All bookworms have pet peeves. Here are a few of mine:
“So you love me, do you?” said Tom with a smirk.
When a character smirks, I assume that a) they are probably telling an off colour joke or b) they are a villain. You’ll forgive me for getting a little annoyed at a hero who has the downright gall to smirk his line. It is my firm belief that there is nothing attractive about smirking.
There is, however, a great deal of satisfaction to be had imagining a hearty slap to a smirking face.
It was hard on the poor girl. She loved Harry with all of her heart. This was odd, for only last Saturday she had told Jonny the same thing. We were forced to conclude that she was a Time Lord.*
A human being can love more than one person. This is a simple truth. I understand it. What I don’t understand is: a) how a heroine can be selfish enough to keep dithering between who she really, really loves (keeping both unfortunates hanging there, hoping that they will be picked. Gosh, it’s as if this is some literary form of The Bachelorette) and b) the two love interests actually put up with it.
Love conquers all, it seems – including self-respect.
sweet children who are surely born for plot devices
Toni ran up to the tortured stranger. She flung her arms about his knees and declared in a beautiful, innocent voice: “Wuv heals all dos nasty wounds. Wanna marry my mummy?”
You know what I’m talking about. The children who are unnatural in their sweetness, who are always good-tempered, who react to complete strangers (most always the hero/heroine) as if they’ve known them for yonks.
When this happens, I find myself quite puzzled and doubt my experience with all small children. I mean, this isn’t natural behaviour. Is it?
*For those not enamoured with Doctor Who: a Time Lord has two hearts. Personally, I thought the reference was brilliant. *cough* I am, of course, magnificently humble.