"It's been really unbearable to go through," she wailed from the Four Seasons hotel in Georgetown, where she had arrived nearly two hours earlier so people could put on her perfect makeup and dress her spectacular hair.
"Our lives have been destroyed," she added blondly.
This reminds of one of my favorite bits of fiction writing, by New Yorker writer Ring Lardner, who wrote of a young man with his father, who obviously didn't know where he was going:
Are you lost daddy, I asked ten-
derly.
Shut up, he explained.
1 comment:
I thought I commented on this. I was delighted by the device! It's like Tom Swifty put through 'enry 'iggins finishing school and made to be not only more sophisticated, but of far more use to the real work of prose.
I don't recall what I said about it. But I've already toyed with the idea of incorporating it into my fiction and possibly, my minutes of various meetings.
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