This week we chat with Susan Dorsey, author of A Discriminating Death.
From the back cover of A Discriminating Death:
The future is looking bright for Jane, a hairdresser in Knoxville, Tennessee. She and her best friend Rodney are opening a new salon in a few short weeks. Their plans begin to unravel when a favorite client suddenly disappears after giving a genealogy lecture about the Melungeons. According to legend, this mysterious group of dark-skinned people had already settled in East Tennessee before the English arrived in the late 1700’s. Although history has hidden the facts about the Melungeons, Jane knows that the key to finding a killer lies buried somewhere in their past. She must discover the truth if she is going to have any future at all.
Click for an excerpt from Susan’s book –> [ANYTHING-POPUP:2]
Fan Fiction. Write up a couple paragraphs that feature your favorite fictional character, give their story a different ending. Write a story giving the background to a secondary character (like March by Geraldine Brooks) Tell a popular story from another point of view – many novels have been written and published using that approach.
- “For example, the creation of the Greek gods were created to explain how the earth was made and how the elements of nature work because they were not able to understand what was truly going on.” So the creation was created to explain how things were created. Got it.
- “Institutional spheres are the outer coating of individuals that nations use to give color to their ideals.” Why do I suddenly have a craving for a bag of M&M candies?
Word of the Week:
You may use this, if you’re unafraid of employing an unusual word, to refer to a person who rarely or never laughs (the related noun is agelast, a person who never laughs).
The Oxford English Dictionary not only marks this as obsolete, but finds only two examples, from seventeenth and eighteenth century dictionaries. Searching the literature proves the word’s not that rare, though most of its modern appearances are in scholarly or literary contexts.
Umberto Eco’s novel The Name of the Rose (“spaghetti structuralism” according to Slavoj Ciuek, but fun all the same) dramatised the disappearance of the last surviving copy: literally eaten as a subversive tract by a gloomy “agelastic” monk, before his whole monastery goes up in flames.
Guardian, 25 Sep. 2010.
Its modern recrudescence may have been provoked through its use by George Meredith in An Essay on Comedy of 1877: “It is but one step from being agelastic to misogelastic” (miso- means hatred of something, as in misogyny, the hatred of women), though nearly all the examples that I can find are in works of the 1990s onwards. Walter Redfern uses it in his book French Laughter: Literary Humour from Diderot to Tournier (2008): “Is not sex spasmodically but regularly comic, for everyone except the most mechanical, brutal, and agelastic performers?”
Its opposite, gelastic, is more common and hasn’t suffered the vicissitudes of fortune of its negative partner. You will come across this most often in medical terminology, principally in gelastic seizure, a form of epilepsy in which bursts of pathological laughter are a symptom. Somebody hypergelastic laughs a lot.
All three words derive ultimately from Greek gelos, laughter.
Dionne Lister: Tenterhooks. Greever Williams http://www.worldwidewords.org/qa/qa-ont1.htm
The Christian in trouble for using the word ‘vagina’