On loving the words of others, at random.

or, as they say in AA, Fake it ’till you Make it.

I’m not writing much of my own stuff lately, but I feel the urge building. As usual, it makes me want to read more, like stretching before you exercise. And recently, in a space where I spout off my opinions, as do others, a friend put forth this interesting little game:

“Okay so I found this somewhere else and brought it here, sue me.*

Rules:
* Grab the book nearest you. Right now.
* Turn to page 56.
* Find the fifth sentence.
* Post that sentence here.

*don’t really sue me.”

It took me a bit, but I have loads of great sentences lying around the house, and so I got into it. Here are some faves:

“ANYONE would have been better than this noncer with his objective correlatives and his Earl Grey and his sorry ass bank balance, and on that bank balance – two words : Oh dear.” Page 56, sentence 5, spoken by our narrator, Lucifer, on his unfortunate physical possesion of a young man named Declan Gunn.

Now I’m just grabbing books off the desk,

“Also present was a nurse with the head of a great brown rat.” King is a wierdo.

“When he was little planes were so rare he and his brothers used to run outside on the lawn and point up when an airplane went by.” This book is actually way sexier than that sentence, I took a shot.

“Even the Tooks (with few exceptions) thought Bilbo’s behavior was absurd.” Wonder where that came from? Geeks never stray far from their teachers.

“He gained strength through familiarity with the thought that the emergency exit stood always open, and became curious, too, to taste his suffering to the dregs.” Man, what a great sentence. Hess was crazy as shit, but that guy could write.

“She valued the considerate neglect she had at some cost taught them after years” Frost is a depressing fuck.

“The gin and the vermouth were both dry in taste, and the orange bitters had been an ingredient in the Martini up until the 1950’s.” From “Classic Cocktails”, by Salvatore Calabrese. Yes, I keep that by my bed.

“From the gate of the beloved ISHTAR, the sphere of LIBAT, I call to Thee!” From, really, The Necronomicon, allegedly written in the 8th century by an Arabian madman named Abdul Alhazred. It is said that to read too long from this cursed book of evil magic is to risk madness yourself. I have a $2.99 paperback copy, it’s pretty fuckin’ funny.

OK, time to come up with some doozies of my own…