It's not a cliche exactly but something that bugged the shit out of me was in Doomsday Book by Connie Willis, a book that won both the Nebula and the Hugo. One character sat by a land-line phone pretty much the entire book because apparently in the future they have time travel but no cell phones. Really Connie? Really?
Small lightning bolt boy,
Voldemort's sworn enemy,
Beats evil with love.
Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, steak in one hand, chocolate in the other, yelling "Holy F***, What a Ride!"
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Please tell me you don't mean all seven books in ONE haiku!
“You have your way. I have my way. As for the right way, the correct way, and the only way, it does not exist.”
And that's why I'm here eating HFLC Primal/Paleo.
If I was writing your book, Gay Panda, the chick would marry the rich dude and arrange to have the stable boy hired on as, well, a stable boy. With "benefits". Who says you can't have it all?
Also: Doomsday Book was awesome. I thought the landline worked. I love Connie Willis.
Edit: Small amendment to the book: she marries the rich guy (who is a jerk, right?) and experiences some mild self-loathing that the stable boy soothes. Within a year, she's had a kid who is proclaimed heir, and arranged for the "accidental" death of the rich dude. She takes control of the estate, stages a near-death experience for herself from which the stable boy saves her, they marry with public approval and live happily ever after. Morally ambiguous, but with a happy ending. What's not to like?
Last edited by spughy; 05-14-2012 at 10:33 PM.