#language targeting

[meirimerens]

it is so funny to me how i started learning english on my own age 10 because the manga i was reading was turning so so so bad i went to fan content to cope with how shit it was. and 15 years later this pays off as my boss tells me i'm an essential asset in the team as the only fluent english-speaker.

[xpulchritudinousx]

something you'd never expect

Summary: You’re Bakugo’s wife and he’s finally introducing you to his friends… But things take a turn. Disclaimer: This might be a sensitive subject to some people, there’s nothing NFSW, but it briefly talks about fertility issues. If this triggers you at all, please don’t read, I don’t want anyone to be uncomfortable when reading my content.

The doorbell of your home rang, with Bakugo looking exhausted already at the idea of having to deal with his friends. Opening the door to see everyone. He was just about to tell them to come in when you shove your head over his shoulder to see them. “Are these guys your friends?” You ask him in English, looking them all over before shoving your hand up to take a sip out of your milkshake as you look at them all. Katsuki just sighs, giving you a forced glare, trying to get you to behave for once. “They’re not my… Forget it, just move so I can let them in.” His words rang half hearted, not really having the energy to do anything. Pausing when he sees you move and give him an apologetic look, his expression morphing to be fond as he pats your head before walking you over to the couches. Everyone looked shocked to see him actually let you eat somewhere other than the dining table. What happened to their high strung Bakugo that they know and love? “Katsuki, could you get me some fries?” “You just put them in the fridge?” “I know but I changed my mind and don’t wanna get up.” “...Fine.” That’s how he ended up getting up and going to reheat your leftovers while you sat with his friends. At times like this, they wished Mina had more free time for them, they still didn't know how to talk to girls, even at their grown age. “So how’d you meet Bakugo?” Sero asked you in English, trying not to be insensitive to the fact that you were clearly only communicating in it. “Oh he was in America when he was working on Izuku’s suit and-” Katsuki gives you a panicked look from the kitchen, looking over the counter as he waved his hand cut-throat style to tell you to stop talking about it. Not wanting the details of your unsteady citizenship in the country be discussed until his lawyers figured everything out. “We got along cuz we both like food and kinda fell in love I guess.” Katsuki’s expression fell to an unimpressed one hearing how much of the story you skipped over. He knew you were trying not to go into the details, but damn… He forgot how bad you were at reading social cues. “Of course that’s what it was.” Denki says, making everyone else just smile awkwardly. It was laughable how much of a softie their friend actually was, finally coming back after microwaving your fries and adding some more salt to it. Bringing you the little paper cup they were kept in and wiping some whipped cream you got on your cheek. His action had you beaming at him, moving to press a kiss to his as thanks, not noticing how red his ears turned at the action. He sighed a bit, fiddling with the little ring on your finger quietly, wait no correction that thing was huge, what the hell? Bakugo definitely wasn’t cheap, that much is becoming more and more apparent. The way you were dressed finally settled into their brains, pale colors and lace trimming. The group’s jaws just drop, not expecting his wife to genuinely be his polar opposite. Beaming widely, wearing pale white accents with your clothes looking more dressed up next to him wearing all black and dressed in track pants. What’s he doing with a princess? That’s when they saw you munch down on your fries with a blissful look on your face, reaching for the little bag of goldfish you had and some cheese sticks. You were eating a lot actually, they didn’t notice until now. Watching you finish up and start gulping down at that giant milkshake in a size they didn’t even know restaurants served.

They all pause, faces pulled into awkward little smiles or looks of complete shock. Of course he married someone who eats just as much as him. The sight of you happily sipping on your milkshake as you hug his side was an interesting one, with his face expressionless as he rubs his hand up and down on your shoulder. He was letting you be affectionate with him?! No, he was the one being affectionate… Did you have him for ransom or something? Actually, he looked pretty happy, or as happy as he could really show? 

Katsuki looks at you, expression held calm as he brings a hand to the top of your head, sighing a bit at how sweet you looked in the moment. As silent as he tried to keep it he was weak to you, so weak that he could barely hide it. “You said if I took you to get something unhealthy you’d only have a little bit of the food today, you finished the whole bag.” He chides as he gently runs his thumb over your cheek. Kirishima being ever the gentleman comes to your defense, furrowing his eyebrows in concern. “Hey man, let her eat what she wants.” The defense just left Katsuki slightly miffed, looking over to his friend tiredly. “It’s not like that, I just-” Katsuki pauses when he notices you going over to the kitchen, eyes shooting wide before turning on the couch and looking over it to you. “Hey! What did I say about snacks?” Your shoulders slump cartoonishly, looking at him with a frown.  “To eat fruit or to ask you to make me something…” Katsuki gives you a stern look, watching you stop yourself from opening the pantry where all your favorite snacks were. Sighing in disappointment with himself for even letting you convince him to buy all of that. “Right, and what are you doing right now?” Your expression looks more ashamed at his words, looking down as you kicked your foot to the tile of the floor a bit. “I’m not doing either of them.” With that you mope and walk back over to him, snuggling to his side quietly, leaving him to feel the tiniest twinge of guilt. Sighing as he pets your head with a look of concern, muttering into your hair as he brings you closer. “I’m sorry, you know I’m not trying to upset you. But you know what the doctor said, we’ve gotta eat healthy for everything to work…” 

The small intimate moment just had his friends sitting there nearly the color of ghosts, looking at him with their jaws nearly hitting the floor. Finally, one of them spoke up, the four of them doing their best to not go speechless every time they saw him interacting with you as if it was a crazy phenomenon.  “What exactly do you need to work?” Sero asked, giving Katsuki a slightly sceptical look, unsure how he was going to react to the question.

Everyone’s mouths went from wide open to snapped shut when Katsuki sighs, looking at you quietly before letting himself admit it. “We’ve been going to the doctor a lot lately… We’ve been trying for a baby and things have been… Hopeless.” He admits, bringing his hand down from your cheek to your shoulder, squeezing it in reassurance when he feels your mood shift.  Your eyes downcast as you lean into him, fighting the urge to bring your hand to your tummy. Fingers clutching into your skirt, words quiet as you speak in English; still struggling with Japanese even after the months went on, catching onto what he was telling his friends. “I’m the reason we can’t and I wanted it…” You whisper out, quickly being shushed by Katsuki, his hand running over your hair as he pressed a chaste kiss to your head.  “It doesn’t matter, we’re doing it no matter what.” He promised, sighing a bit when you nod but head off your room. His eyes glued to the floor, expression ridden in nothing but guilt, looking back over to his friends tiredly. “Not a word.” He threatened, getting up and following behind you.  The four just sat there, looking at one another with furrowed eyebrows, Kirishima, Sero and Kaminari speaking to each other about it. Concern written all over their expressions as they let their thoughts run wild. “Man, that’s tough. I never would’ve thought Bakugo would even want to be a dad, but this? This is just…”

“Depressing?” Kaminari fills in, looking less sad and more concerned. “I hate to say it, but maybe it’s a blessing in disguise. I mean he just bought a Porsche, that’s not exactly a baby safe car. Not to be the bearer of bad news, but Bakugo isn’t exactly the most nurturing guy around.”  Kirishima furrowed his eyebrows at Sero’s words, fidgeting a bit as he adjusted himself in his seat, sighing a bit as he conceded to it. “I mean yeah, he couldn’t have been with her for that long if we never knew about them, plus she can barely even get a sentence in Japanese out. But still… That’s gotta be rough.”

Izuku finally spoke up, having been quiet as he processed his thoughts with his eyes to the ground. “Kachan’s a lot more capable than you guys are giving him credit for. He never does anything without thinking. This makes sense though, he’s been a lot less angry and more just sad. We should be more supportive, he probably won’t say it, but he wants to know he has hope, especially when he has to be the one to give it to her right now.” Like usual whenever Izuku speaks up, everyone goes quiet for a minute, contemplating the way he sees things more clearly than them. Always analyzing the little details until they come together for him to fully understand the situation.

“I guess I never thought of it like that.” Kirishima admitted, with Kaminari chiming in to agree.  Katsuki finally came back without you after a bit, not saying a word with his eyes puffy and slightly reddened. Keeping his responses short and offering up some tea, not responding when Kaminari asks about where you went. Simply saying goodbye to everyone without you when they took the hint that now wasn’t a good time for him to have company.

Even with all of them walking out together in silence, Izuku hoped the next time they came by, things would be different… The next time they’d come over would be a couple months later when Katsuki called them over to help with some housing adjustments. You opened up the door for them with a wide smile and noticeable change in your figure. Walking in to see him working on building a pink playpen and watching you rush over to him to hug his side, the blond letting out a little huff as he brings his hand to your head, leaning it closer as he rested his own to it. The four of them watched for a second. Kirishima smiling, with Kaminari and Sero processing it for a second, looking halfway to tears, but Izuku was beaming. Looks like you guys are going to have a girl.

thank you for reading, kind words and comments r always welcome!

[pngblog]

[starry-songs-canvas]

All Plans Fly Out the Window

There’ve been quite a few long lost twins Damian and Danny meeting at galas, right? All very cute, happy, relaxed, etc.. Well what if we add a little twist?

——————————————————

Vlad Masters.

A very suspicious figure that only in the last few years rose to wealth and power from almost thin air. Companies that were doing decent simply handing over the keys. No court has ever been able to prove foul play, all judges siding with Masters even when counter mind control measures were in place.

Any evidence or stories implicating Masters were either retracted or removed with great speed.

Bruce did not want another Lex Luther to deal with, and yet he first needs evidence. All of his computers were tightly secured with little connection to the Internet, and the ones that were refusing to be hacked. (“It’s almost as if it’s… alive, B.”)

Therefore, while risky, a more hands-on approach was needed.

Tim and Bruce were to stay in the spotlight, keep Masters eyes on them. While Damian would sneak away and snoop under the pretense of, “being bored”.

However, all of this went out the window when Masters introduced his godson, Daniel Fenton who when shaking their hands said in the League of Assassins dialect in a pleasant tone,

“What the **** are you doing here?”

[yuechicake]

ace vc: wow the two of you are freaks. i hope you never ever break up and involve anyone else in your relationship

(commissioned from revelia)

[perplexingly]

woah look at this kcd merch* I got

*I am deeply sorry about the kind of person i have become

[blindbisexualgoose]

That moment when you’ve stayed up until 3 am and just read the most earth shattering, heartbreaking, sob worthy chapter of a fanfic and have to wake up in a few hours and do things and carry on like your entire fucking worldview hasn’t been reshaped by a stranger’s writing about two fictional gay people

[primal-con]

Wanted to draw robots again so I’m going back to my roots

[meichenxi]

Language learning: slow learning versus toxic productivity

Or: the process in crisis

Five years ago, all of the productivity advice I read (and gave out) as a successful self-learner of many different languages had one basic premise: that I was not doing enough, and that I could always be doing more.

Several burnouts later, running headlong from one mental illness into another, I'd like to invite you to entertain the exact opposite idea: there is a limit to what you can do. I have run face-first into mine on multiple occasions, and burnt out. At many points I've stopped learning the language at all. Most importantly, I've learnt to be distrustful of the very premise that all of the so-called productivity or optimisation advice is based on.

More is not always more.

Listen to a podcast in the target language whilst you exercise. Exercise to give yourself more energy to learn your target language. Talk to yourself in the shower in your target language. Do Anki whilst eating breakfast. Listen to Glossika whilst walking to work. Change your phone settings to your target language. Bullet journal. Manage your time. Make friends in your target language. Control your time. Write a diary. There's always enough time. These are all things I have done myself and recommended others do, to increase exposure to the language, to increase productivity.

Productivity? What productivity? What, exactly, is it that we are producing? I am producing sentences and words but - for who? Who is listening? Nobody's here, in my room, at 7am on a Sunday. If productivity were just speaking or writing, I'd be productive in my native language too, by virtue of speaking out loud. Or conversely, in language learning circles, should we measure it in terms of input? How many hours did you spend listening to Chinese yesterday? What about today? Is there anything you do in your life, in your daily life, that you could optimise? You're wasting time. There's time here, for those that want it. If you want to get ahead, to be successful, to be a good language learner, you have to know how to use that time. Go online, and debate over which tools are the best; watch your videos. What exactly is it that is being produced?

Productivity is a measuring tool for concrete output: the productivity of a field means how much crop it can yield per harvest. The productivity of a factory is how many mobile phone chargers it can bring to market per year. There are direct and measurable ways to increase this sort of productivity. But what is productivity when it comes to knowledge work? Cal Newport's work, The Minimalists, Essentialism: they all run into the same problem, which is that nobody seems to know what 'productivity' for knowledge workers means at all. You can look at a factory line and see which parts need greasing up, figuratively or literally: it is very difficult, on the other hand, to look at the work of a self-contained writer and tell her where she is going 'wrong'. (And by 'wrong', I mean - slow.) And language learning is an even more particular subset of that particular subset of work.

You could judge a novelists' productivity two ways: by the 'busyness' of her daily writing routine, or the amount of novels she produces. But what exactly is being produced when we learn a language? What is the end product?

In some ways, language learning as a hobby is even more playful than traditionally thought of arts and crafts. (By 'play' I mean something which is done for its own sake, and which is pleasurable, and which may yield next to no monetary reward.) We might think of the poet as sitting on a tree and dangling his feet in the river, a vision of artful indolence, but at the end of the day there is output - a poem. A knitter has a jumper. A potter has a pot. But language learning doesn't follow this [work] + [time] = [tangible output] structure. We can't even use the second metric of 'productivity' to measure it at all. Something is being done, of course - I can learn to speak Greek, and speak it markedly better after two months than one - but my point is you can't look at a day's work and say, this is exactly how much I learnt. Learning is not memorisation in the short term - it's receiving input, and practicing how to wield and use a structure. It doesn't happen over the course of a ten-minute podcast.

Learning happens - encoding happens - when the brain is doing other things. In other words, much like every creative process, you need downtime. You need rest, and sleep, and fun, and brightness and joy in your life. You might 'remember' a bunch of words on Anki, but you need to sleep before you can review them again: that's the whole point.

There is a much wider problem here, a culture of goals and optimising your life and glowing up, and to be honest, I find it disturbing. I think that for a very long time my language learning metrics were a stand-in, a relic, for the kinds of unhealthy and obsessively perfectionist thinking that gave me an eating disorder. How many of us truly believe - genuinely, with every inch of our heart - that we are better people if we 'better' ourselves? Learn more. Exercise more. Study more. How do you feel about yourself at the end of a day, exhausted, because you've completed day 75/100? Do you feel better about yourself because you've achieved? I'm guessing that you do.

For many people - including for myself - this wider culture has spilled over into their hobbies. Hobbies like language learning in particular are a target for this because they are so easily quantifiable - and we are encouraged, if we want to succeed, to quantify them. How else will we know how to improve?

Over the last few years, after burning out, after living off grid and without wifi and doing extreme minimalism and a lot of other lifestyle experiments to try and understand why modern life is so fucking hard, it's become clear that most systems of 'productivity' measure 'optimisation' by getting the most done in a day, but they don't stop to question whether you should be doing those things at all.

They don't stop to ask: what matters? They don't stop to ask: why am I trying to write a novel, finish my dissertation, pursue a romantic relationship, get healthy, learn ice-skating, learn to cook, look after my aging parents, and learn guitar at the same time? They don't ask: how do I prioritise, and where do I find silence? They ask: how do I cram more time in the day? They don't ask: how do I slow time down? They don't ask: how can I know what matters, if I never give myself space to think?

In other words: 'productivity' in language learning is measured by 'busy-work', by how much you can see from the surface.

You can't measure how well the learning is going, exactly, but you can measure how many hours a day you show up and grind. Whether or not that struggle is the best use of your time, or whether you're spending the time on things that will truly bring you value and quality, is a different question altogether.

And it's not one most 'productivity culture' will ever ask.

There will be things in your language learning journey that, to borrow from self-help terminology, no longer serve you. Habits and relics and resources and mindsets that worked for you once, or no longer did. Those books that are too advanced that you feel like you 'should' be able to read. That textbook that's been sitting beside your bed for a year. That habit of scrolling social media in your target language that was helpful when you were at a more intermediate level, but does little for you now that you're advanced.

Take stock of these. Simplify. Do less, but do it better. Productivity culture never stops to ask: what can I do without? It always asks, instead: how can I do more? But maybe - just maybe - the way to do more is to focus on fewer things, but do them well.

Multi-tasking isn't multi-tasking, but switching quickly between different focuses of attention. The average American owns 300,000 things, and watches television for 4-5 hours a day. On average, if you are distracted, it takes you 20 minutes to reach the same level of deep focus: but the average American office worker opens an email within six seconds of receiving it. Are you any better with your phone? How much time do you spend there? If you meditate, that's wonderful, but do you have any time to let yourself think? To walk and to understand how to feel? I don't want to sound like a boomer, but: can you name the birds? Do you live in a place, not just a room?

Stop trying to be 'productive'. Do less. Do it well.

I am now facing a wall in my learning of Chinese, and I'm still not sure how to get around it. The reason for this is because so much of the advice I gave others around language learning, and so much of the advice I found online, is focused on this sort of optimisation. But I no longer want to be listening to something, to be watching something, every second of every day. I have a partner to love and a house to appreciate and I want to spend time, humming and pleasant, alone with my thoughts, and it's summer, dear diary, and I don't want to stay indoors. Routines can keep you afloat, but they can also drown you. Do something different. Do something new. Do something that is not productive, that produces nothing, idle away, walk to work without music and perhaps when you sit down to your language learning that evening, you'll be filled with a renewed vigour and love for it. Do it because you love it, not because you scheduled it in your calendar.

A lesson, related, from my martial arts teacher. He said:

If you are tired, do not train. If you do not train, rest. 'Rest' does not mean go on your phone.

The same principle applies here. If you are tired of learning, which you may well be, rest. Not going on your phone, not watching Netflix. I mean taking a walk and sitting under the tree and looking at the patterning of the sky. I mean lying with your dog and absently scratching his tummy. If you're tired, and you have the luxury to stop - stop. Let yourself be tired. Don't drink caffeine. Sleep.

Last year, I was able to write 340,000 words of fiction because I focused on one thing: writing my book. Apart from things that I literally needed to do to survive and maintain my health and relationships around me, I didn't set a single other to-do. My daily list looked like: write for three hours. Not a word limit. Not exercise, though I ended up doing that, not learning a language. I imagine that if I had tried to focus on Chinese at the same time that I wouldn't have achieved anywhere near half the result. I still learnt Chinese, a very decent amount - I went to China and Taiwan for three months in total! - but I did it because I wanted to, of a whim, on a Sunday, something fun. It wasn't a must, or anything I was forcing myself to do. Many days I didn't do any Chinese at all. It was so immensely freeing to be able to think, at 11am: I'm finished for today. Even when I was at work, because I knew I was just there to pay the rent, I felt serene. Stressed on a day-to-day level, certainly, because all work is stressful, but - there wasn't any striving. I just did the best I could. And that was enough.

I am writing this, now, as I come out of my first ever information-overload burnout. I've burnt out, but I've never experienced one of these before: even looking at a book, at a phone, physically hurt my eyes. I couldn't bear to listen to people speak and would lock myself away in my room. I physically felt I could not talk, and had to take extensive time off work. Even looking at a pen and a blank page was too much; listening to podcasts was too much; reading the instructions for dinner was too much too. The only way I could heal was by doing absolutely nothing at all. That period shocked me deeply, because it showed me how absolutely dependent I was on having some input of information all of the time. No wonder I was tired.

I know, now, that there are lots of movements built around this same idea, by frustrated learners all over the world: the growing realisation that metrics and Excel and polylogger and tracking tracking tracking can't be the only way to learn. That a list of the number of books you've read in one year is hardly indicative of how well you understood those books, and what you learned from them. You've read 20 books this year already - good job. When do you think about them? What time do you spend on reflection? Why did you choose those books? Which chapters, and which characters, hit you the hardest? Why?

Minimalism, deep work, 'monk mode', essentialism, every writer's dream to run away and write in a cabin in the woods, slow learning, Buddhism, Stoicism, Marie Kondo-ism, the art of less, project 333, my no-buy-year, slow fashion, slow food, slow travel:

What all of these philosophies have in common is the idea that doing things deliberately ('mindfully') means 1) doing things slowly, 2) doing things well, and 3) doing things one at a time.

I am now at a place in my life where I understand the value of time alone with my thoughts. I don't want to listen to podcasts every minute of the waking day, because I need time to think about them. I need time to let the ideas for my novel grow in the dark. Nothing can be heard in noise; so make space for silence. I am a member of the real, living, breathing world, and that means I cannot devote 8 hours a day to Chinese television shows like I could when I was 20. I have to call my father. I have to do the dishes. I want to flex my creative muscles in other ways. Alternatively - I no longer believe that my worth is tied up inherently with how well I do my hobbies.

You're just some guy. There's freedom in that. You, my friend - you suck <3

Let yourself be bad. Let yourself be mediocre. Let yourself 'slide backwards' or regress, because all that means is that you're putting focus somewhere else. It'll come back. It always does.

I'm no longer comfortable, therefore, with the way that the language learning community tackles productivity. Please don't misunderstand; a lot of us have time spare that we could use to do things 'better' for us. I know. But I just believe now that getting rid of things, like the time you spend on your phone, is going to be more helpful in the long run than trying to force yourself into some gruelling, achievement-centric regime that collapses from within after two months of struggle and self-flagellation.

The other realisation I have had is just how much happier I am spending more time being alive, really alive, and less time in front of a screen. For a language like German or Gaelic that's much easier, because you can study with books, but with Chinese you always have to study to some extent with audios, flashcards, computers. Especially if - like me - you can read novels without a dictionary, but cannot handwrite even your Chinese name. So where next?

I don't have any answers. I'm not sure how to pair the two things together, to be honest, because almost all of my language learning has traditionally made use of technology. It's all been goal-orientated, systems-orientated, and despite the fact that I've failed at using these systems every day for years, despite the fact that Anki has NEVER worked for me, despite the fact that I have spent hundreds if not thousands of pounds on courses here, there, a wealth of overwhelm and five thousand words saved on Pleco, did I read that right? Five thousand. No wonder I'm stressed.

Regardless of happiness, it's much easier to achieve a state of deep focus and work when you're not online. After my period of information burnout, I feel actual physical pain from the weight of choices online. It's exhausting. I'm watching a Chinese show, but I want to go on tumblr. I'm on tumblr, but I feel guilty for not watching the Chinese show. I'm constantly torn between doing this and that, never fully committing to anything, seeing a post by Lindie Botes and thinking, damn, she's good. I should be better. But I don't want to compare myself to her. Do you know what? She is good. I admire her immensely. But I don't want to judge my self-worth by some imagined scale of productivity anymore - and, the more time passes, the more I'm not sure what 'productivity' in the context of language learning even means.

Try slow, focused, deep learning. You might just find it works.

There's something refreshing, almost counter-cultural, anti-capitalist, anti-consumerist, anti-rat-race, about this thought. Slow learning. I think there's an answer here, somewhere. It's a problem I've been dancing around for a while; and do you remember how you learnt your first foreign language? For me, it was on the floor, absolutely absorbed in German comic books, flicking through the dictionary furiously and scribbling things down in a notebook. I only had one book, and one dictionary, and one grammar book. I want to go back to that sort of simplicity. There was joy in that.

One again: I don't have any answers. I don't know exactly what direction this blog is going to go in, as I wrestle with these sorts of meta-problems. I'd love to hear your thoughts. And for now, if there's one thing I'd like you to take away from this long and frankly absurdly rambling post (thank you for bearing with me!) it's an alternative answer for the question I get so often, about what you can do to learn the language when you're tired, because:

Yes, you could watch reality TV shows in Chinese, or you could give yourself permission to be human. You could rest.

Thanks guys. Meichenxi out <3

[aroaceleovaldez]

Hiii! I hope this ask doesn’t come off as rude or pushy but I just have some questions about your opinion on Rick Riordan since I’m new the space of author critiquing.

I guess I’ll add I’m pretty young and a bit sensitive when it comes to things I like, so I automatically assumed since you post so much PJO content you liked his writing. But based on some of your posts, was I wrong? Again, I don’t want to sound pushy, I’m just new to being critical and honest when it comes to authors I like and would like to know your opinion on Rick Riordan specifically. Is he a bad writer? I just got wrath of the triple goddess and I’m not sure if I want to read it based on some of your posts.

Entirely focusing on writing itself and not the content within: I like Rick's old writing. His style when writing first series is dramatically different from his newer material, which I feel has significantly dropped in quality. A lot of the newer stuff feels very unpolished and gratuitous (towards the audience for marketing purposes, not his own interests) and he has a serious bathos problem that stunts the majority of the humor and sincerity that once existed in the franchise - and often severely gets in the way of a lot of attempts at inclusion and representation, to its detriment. Not to mention how condescending it feels towards the reader/presumed audience. It's also very clear he's trying to riff off of his previous success, including directly lifting previous sections and minorly rewriting them to try and achieve the same effect (not in a call-back manner, but just copying his own work).

I won't say his old writing is like, my 100% favorite or the end-all-be-all of literature. I have plenty of authors whose writing is more something that I think is structurally admirable. But Rick's original series writing is good! It became a pop culture staple for a reason! But the quality has dipped so severely as the series progress that it's hard to ignore and it's becoming increasingly difficult to enjoy the books for me because of this. Particularly very recent books like TSATS to me are so excessively full of simple structural errors and similar that it's baffling to me how it even got published or how we got here.

I think out of his post-first series writing, his works I've enjoyed the most are MCGA and Demigods of Olympus - particularly leaning towards the latter. It's simple but very enjoyable to me. TKC to me is mostly fine and enjoyable, and HoO is Just Okay. TOA is tolerable. TSATS and the marketing trilogy though are kind of unbearable for me.

I do love the franchise as a whole and it means a lot to me, which is exactly why I feel so strongly about the drop-off in quality recently. It feels like an insult to something I love and know can be better and has been better in the past - not from a personal perspective, but from as much of an unbiased perspective I can give as someone who has studied writing. So if he's a "bad writer" in general is kind of up to discretion i suppose.

[aftg-and-random-things]

I can accept mafia cult teams, cracker dust, whatever, but I swear I draw the line at Jeremy reaching anywhere near B1 level French by the end of the series. A1 great. A2 is pushing it but I’ll be fine. But if he can have full fluent conversations or something I’ll probably cry.

[polyglotinthegreenwood]

I feel like finding editions of books in your target languages should be easier than it is.

Recently found a few German editions of contemporary books I love in order to help with my reading comprehension and vocabulary skills… but I am challenged to find French editions.

And getting ahold of a physical copy of the books, without having to travel to France or Germany, seems even harder.

[ryllen]

[aliusfrater]

i was originally gonna make a joke about how 'even crowley's quote unquote intervention is less violent that sam's (x2). he gets company at least <3' but the differences and similarities within these two dynamics is actually super interesting to watch back to back

[tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang]

It's a miracle if the house doesn't end up collapsing here