Writers let themselves be enticed by the language.
I like to believe that if you pay close attention to the sentences as they unfold, they will draw you in rather than pushing you away.
I used to go through the dictionary looking for unusual but nontechnical words. At one time, I thought the greatest word was 'jejune' and I would throw it into every piece because something about it appealed to me.
Balthazar was the kind of guy who used totally correct spelling and punctuation even when he was texting, which was sort of bizarrely hot. She was in serious trouble if commas could get her going.
I would pay good money for a British accent.
It is curious and interesting to notice what an attraction a fussy, mincing, nickel-plated word has for you.
The Pivot Questionnaire that I ask other people, when I have on rare occasion answered it, the answer to the question, "What turns you on?" Is words. Not mine, other people's. Words, words, words, that's what turns me on.
The most appealing side-effect of Sri Lankan cricket from where I stand, shuffling words, has been linguistic.
