We should accidently slip in a copy of the book in people's bags, use subliminal messages, do anything you can!
SPREAD THE WORD!
[This message has been edited by Human (edited February 24, 2003).]
You can't make people like the books you like.
Just my opinion, sorry if I offended anyone.
[This message has been edited by Hydralisk5284 (edited February 24, 2003).]
Throw in some snide superiority and a batch of grits. . . yum!
It's just I like the combo, simply because I had to memorize it for my IM name. Numbers always seem to spruce up words.
The missionary terminology used about 'evangelizing' people to read OSC is just a metaphor, not an indication of literal discipleship. (afaik...) For myself, when I direct people to good books, I refer to it as 'proselytizing' or, alternatively, 'dealing.'
Don't give up posting because you're young or people argue with you. The induction process is rigorous but you typically come out a better person for it.
I don't know...I've gotten a few friends to read Ender's Game, and they've loved it. But....I did have one tell me that she thought the language was too juvenile. The book just didn't use big enough words for her. Oh, well.
-pH
ph: *laugh* but it used 'peripatetic'! Is that not a big enough word? Though actually that may have been Speaker for the Dead - I just remember the second time I read whichever book it was, these long years ago, I saw the word and thought, "I've never seen that word before. But I've read this book, this very copy, before... Has it been here the whole time?? *panic*"
What do you mean, I panic at stupid things?
[This message has been edited by Lissande (edited February 24, 2003).]
Checked -- it's Speaker, near the beginning of chapter 5.
--Pop
ph: Tell your friend to read William Styron to get it out of her system (specifically Sophie's Choice; not sure if all his work is like that). Have her make an honest list of all the words she doesn't know. I think it would be cool for a bunch of people to do that and compare lists. Like a contest!
OK, but seriously, all of you need to read Sophie's Choice. I've never read another writer ever who used the language as beautifully - and thoroughly - as Styron.
edit: Don't think it's escaped me that I'm using an OSC-spreading thread to spread another author. I scoff at your silly on-topic comments!
[This message has been edited by Lissande (edited February 24, 2003).]
Edit to add that I'll probably release Wild Seed by Octavia Butler. I've read it three times already and loved it each time.
[This message has been edited by KarlEd (edited February 24, 2003).]
Hydralisk, you could use Book Crossing to release some work by C.S. Lewis or some of the new Christian writers. There's a very interesting allegory called Arena I've finished recently that is excellent.
For the love of God, please don't send out any of the Left Behind tripe!
quote:Sorta answered your own question there, no?
I got bored so I stopped.
The worst things to happen to Christian-based fiction is Left Behind and those ridiculous romances where "atheist boy meets Christian girl, she rejects him, then prays for him, he converts, they live happily ever after"
Gosh Lewis and Tolkien are missed.
Just don't tell anyone...
Dirk knew he should resist Lissande. She was not right for him - she was the daughter of the only man he had sworn to kill, the spawn of his enemy. But after saving her from a fate worse than death, drowning in the Atlantic like so much kelp, and being forced to live with each other the on same ship - Dirk's ship, his first love - he could not stop thinking about her long brown hair and melting eyes. If only he could stop. If only she would not appear before him every time he close his eyelids at night. If only the very thought of her soft skin and full breasts did not cause him to break out in a cold sweat. If only...
But some cruel twist of Fate had brought her here. He could not deny it. Standing on the bow of the ship, his rough hands caressing the ship's wheel while his bulging muscles almost unconsciously tamed the wildness of the ocean, his eyes followed her as she walked across the wooden boards, seeming like an ethereal creature. He had to know, once and for all. He had to know.
"Smitty!" Dirk snarled, and handed the wheel over to his first mate. Smitty didn't need to ask what Dirk was up to. He already knew.
Following Lissande into the cabin, Dirk waited for the right opportunity to have her alone. Lissande crossed the dining area and then went into the hall. As soon as she almost to her room a hand caught her upper arm and swung her around. Then two, well-toned arms pinned her against the wall. Feeling like a trapped bird, she gathered her courage and looked straight into the eyes of her captor. Straight into the eyes of her father's nemesis. Straight into the eyes of Dirk...
"Lissande," Dirk whispered into her ear, his mouth mere inches from her own. "Where were you going?"
"That is none of your concern!" she said, all of her passion manifesting itself into anger.
"I think I know," he responded with a devilish grin. He then grabbed her shoulders and, after handling her roughly while opening her cabin door, forced her in with him.
"Unhand me, you ruffian!" she nearly shreiked. "Unhand me! I..." but Lissande could not finish for sobbing.
Dirk then gently gathered to him. He then knew how hard it was for her. Living on the ship of her father's enemy, never knowing what was to become of her, feeling the same tension he had been experiencing...
"Lissa, Lissa," Dirk whispered, again and again. "I just need to know. I need to know what you would do if I did this..."
And then Lissa looked up into his eyes. His eyes like fire, smoldering and piercing her. Paralyzing her were she stood.
Dirk looked down and saw the sweet swell of her breasts pushed up again his chest. He knew he could never let her go, even if he tried. His lips descended and all at once found hers...
[This message has been edited by Ralphie (edited February 24, 2003).]
The "steering wheel" as you call it is typically in the after section of a boat. Kelp cannot drown, I think, unless it's in underoxygenated water. How is drowning a fate worse than death?
And the big question on everyone's minds...
Can I play the role of Dirk?
The reason the Left Behind series isn't that great is because it sacrifices the story in favor of the message. Oh, and as far as I can tell, it suffers from a severe case of red-shirt syndrome. The main characters don't die, but everyone else does. It's rather contrived.
Ahem. Having had time to compose myself, ! I think you did a good job capturing the heroine's keen intelligence and sparkling wit , but I'm not sure her vibrant sensuality quite came through as strongly as it might have. *laugh*
And Rakeesh: I'll be holding unofficial auditions later tonight behind the bleachers in the gym. Finding the right leading man is so important!
Talk about derailing threads.
One so far has gotten to an airport in Germany, other is somewhere in Virginia.
I will be releasing some more books very soon. I haven't caught any yet. I am trying though.
quote:
He had to know, once and for all. He had to know."Smitty!"
I'm sorry, but when I read "Smitty!" I spit my peach tea all over the keyboard. It was all so dramatic...and then came Smitty.
Belle: We should TOTALLY have a contest like that -- we don't have nearly enough contests here! Especially *writing* contests!
She looked over the rolling hills of her beloved Scotland, knowing it was the last time she'd see her homeland. How does a woman endure something like this, Belle asked herself. How does a woman leave something like the love of her land to marry the cold and unyielding form of the English?
She thought of the man she was to marry. As cold as his culture, as refined as his station. Tall and devilish and hard. But she thought she had seen a bit of softness...
Belle allowed her mind to float back to the night of the masquerade ball. The night she let herself slip out of her small station and into the life of nobility. That was the night that everything came crashing down. But it was also the night she met her raven...
Tall, like her new husband, with jet-black hair and a similar devilish grin. Belle remembered how he had led her out of the ballroom into an antechamber. With the music still flowing the background he had take her to him. He had pinned her to the wall, letting his mouth search her's out. Letting his tongue plummet to the depths of her soul. And she had let him. Oh, had she let him! He had only said one thing that night, after the torrid moment where his mouth had sucked her will to live without anything but him, after his hand had wantonly explored the mounds of flesh flowing from her bodice. "Bella..." he had whispered in her ear. Had he known who she was? Was it simply a term of endearment in an unknown language? Or, was it the words of a man who would one day come for her? A man who would be her's...
Suddenly, it hit her. The same height, the same hair, the same devilish grin. Could this be the same man as her soon-to-be-husband? Had the man she could not know as anything but harsh and unyielding be the same man that had melted her own iron steel into the rippling pools of desire upon the antechamber's floor?
Could he be the man that Belle knew she could love? She thought once more of that kiss, and the familiar stirring in her loins flared up once more...
(Leonide - You're next)
*swoons*
Ralphie - MUST move this to a new thread!
so...funny...can't...breathe...HAHAHAHAHA