Round 1
At the height of the long wet summer of the Seventy-seventh Year of Sendovani, the Thiefmaker of Camorr paid a sudden and unannounced visit to the Eyeless Priest at the Temple of Perelandro, desperately hoping to sell him the Lamora boy.
-The Lies of Locke Lamora, Scott Lynch
Today he would become a god. His mother had told him so.
-Black Sun, Rebecca Roanhorse
“Rejoice, Wei Wuxian is dead!”
-The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation/Mo Dao Zu Shi, Mo Xiang Tong Xiu
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"At the height of the long wet summer of the Seventy-seventh Year of Sendovani, the Thiefmaker of Camorr paid a sudden and unannounced visit to the Eyeless Priest at the Temple of Perelandro, desperately hoping to sell him the Lamora boy"--The Lies of Locke Lamora, Scott Lynch
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this is my headcanon for the heights of the gentleman bastards & co. enjoy!
Locke Lamora: 5’10”. He’s neither remarkably tall nor remarkably short
Jean Tannen: 6’6” BIG OLE BOY
Calo + Galdo Sanza: 6’1”
Sabetha Belacoros: 5’2”. Short queen
Nazca Barsavi: 6’0”. Tall queen
Bug: 5’0”. Littol laddie
Father Chains: 5’9”
Capa Barsavi: 6’3”
Ezri Delmastro: 5’0”. Her and Jean’s height difference is RIDICULOUS but adorable
Zamira Drakasha: 5’9”
The Thiefmaker: 5’5”
The Falconer: 5’7”
Lorenzo Salvara: 6’1”
Sofia Salvara: 5’6”
Patience: 5’8”
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“You’ll pardon me,” he finally said, “if the suggestion that the minuscule black turnip you call a heart is suddenly overflowing with generosity toward me leaves me wanting to arm myself and put my back against a wall.”
Scott Lynch, The Lies of Locke Lamora
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Locke: Some people are like slinkies.
Jean: ...? Explain?
Locke: Relatively useless, but they make you smile when you push them down the stairs.
Jean: Please don’t push the Thiefmaker down the stairs.
Locke: You’re not the garrista.
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The Lies of Locke Lamora by Scott Lynch
Gentleman Bastard 1
Locke Lamora was only five or six years old when he followed a group of recently orphaned plague survivors to the Thiefmaker's graveyard warren of tunnels and caverns where he was taught the skills of thievery beyond his own cutpurse talents. But soon the boy's over-the-top actions have him sold to Father Chains, the Eyeless Priest. Under Chain's tutelage, Locke's larceny is refined and expanded as he grows into manhood, turning into con artistry.
This book has been languishing on my Sony eReader since its 2006 publication, a freebie at the time. I rediscovered it thanks to Booktubers Daniel Greene and Merphy Napier, both of whom raved about it. I yanked it out of my endless TBR list, bringing it back to the top.
The first section, aka the Prologue, enthralled me at first. I soon was disappointed that the detailed descriptions soon were muted and sped through to get to Locke being sold by the Thiefmaker to Father Chains with just a few lines about why. Perhaps that was a hint of things to come. By the next section, Locke is an adult and the narration is beyond slow. Detailed descriptions are back of the surrounding environment, the kind of details that remind me of space fillers for people who are paid by the word. It took me four days to read 39 pages!
I put the book aside for more than a month, hoping it was just the stress of isolation causing the issues. I mean, I've read and enjoyed Dumas and Dickens, I'm a huge fan of most 17th and 18th century books where description is bread and butter to the authors. It'll be okay. I'll come back refreshed and ready to go. Sadly it wasn't and I didn't. During this break, I read other books, fanfiction, delved into documentaries and films, enjoying them all. But the moment I pulled up page 40, I was yearning for relief. I skipped around a bit, hoping to find something that made me go back to where I originally left off, ready to go. Nope.
I gave up. I have too many books on both eReaders and my shelves to force myself to struggle through Locke's story. For those who enjoyed this book, bravo! I'm so pleased you enjoyed it. I can recognize decent writing when I see it, even if it doesn't suit me. Lynch is a decent writer, just not my cup of tea. Maybe the blurb by George R. R. Martin should've been a clue as I dislike Martin's works for the same failing...over descriptive. Anyhoo, this is a DNF.
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for my own reference
If a sentence or description jumps out at me while I’m reading, I like to take note of it if I remember to. This is my first time compiling it in the same place. Updated regularly.
I think these were from Carrie by Stephen King:
- He said with controlled anger.
- Smiled with a kind of vacuous surprise.
- She gives a short, chopping laugh.
- “Wait, whoa.” He was unoffended, grinning.
- This surprises a smile onto her face.
These are from fics or creepypastas I read somewhere:
- Drawing out memories like a vulture pulling guts from a corpse. Chewing on them, ripping at them.
- His name is Balton or something like that; it doesn’t matter.
“Sir,” might-as-well-be-Balton says.
- Something powerfully akin to a flight instinct snags in his chest.
Strange the Dreamer by Laini Taylor:
- That was the year Zosma sank to its knees and bled great bouts of men into a war about nothing.
- And there it would remain — the mystery, in his mind — exhaling enigma for years to come.
- Certainly, they distracted from spiritual contemplations, but in the same way that the sight of a shooting star distracts from the ache of an empty belly.
- It was so unexpected, it was like sudden immersion in ice water.
- as out of place in the dingy little room as a sunbeam in a cellar.
- Lazlo’s pulse stammered
- The room felt hollow and dead, like a body with its hearts cut out.
- He had a trio of fears that sat in his gut like swallowed teeth, and when he was too quiet with his own thoughts, they’d grind together to gnaw at him from within.
- It was his manner — the warmth of him, like steam rising from tea
- Just a feeling, growing inside her, and not a good one. At first, it had felt a little like holding in cruel words instead of speaking them — how they sit burning on the back of your tongue like a secret poison, ready to spew into the world.
The Silver Eyes (the first fnaf book):
- The memories of that time were unsafe, there were traps and snares wrought into their very substance, but there were precious things among them.
- the mundane reflection drifting unbidden into her head
- Dave made a thin curve of a smile
- His face was canine
- The door squealed like an injured animal
The Lies of Locke Lamora:
- The priest’s richer, deeper voice chased the Thiefmaker’s objection right back down his throat.
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