Small rant on fantasy, more of how does this crap get past an editor and a bonus post from M. D. Lachlan via Io9

I've never been a fan of fantasy novels. Dragons, magic stones, castles, dungeons, quests, Chosen Ones, magical creatures, rinse, repeat--much of it expressed in phony poetic diction and phony pseudo-archaic language.  Come up with weird names for your people and places with extra vowels and lots of apostrophes, invent some compound words like ravenmaple or granitethorn and spell color and clamor the way the English do, as colour and clamour, and suddenly you are writing with poeticality and eloquentness.

But that was before I was diagnosed with cancer three years ago.  Suddenly my beloved literary/realistic fiction was too realistic and to my dismay I found myself reluctantly gravitating toward more escapist literature. I read all the Harry Potter books, and as for adult fantasy, I began with Carol Berg and made it through Song of the Beast and her Rai-Kirah and Bridge of D'Arnath trilogies, and I was forced to admit to myself that not all fantasy is formulaic crap.

How does this crap get past an editor?

Part the first, of what I hope will be many more, because snark is what I do: 

“[insert character name] nodded silently” –Brandon Sanderson, about a thousand times throughout the Mistborn series.

Unless your characters belong to an alien race with rattlely things in their heads, “silently” is completely unnecessary.

EDIT 11/11/11:  Just saw it in Scott Westerfeld's Goliath.  NOOOOOO!  Why, Scott?  Whyyyyyy?

“He shook his head numerously.” –Leon Uris, Trinity.

 Inventing new adverbs was definitely not Uris’s forte.

[insert character name]’s eyes tightened. . .” Stephenie Meyer, Breaking Dawn

If you’re looking for a new way to say “narrowed,” this isn’t it.  I’m picturing a drawstring or something “tightening” the eyelids.  Ew.

“In a hellish blur. . .” James Patterson, Don’t Blink

Okay, it’s an action scene, but I’d like to know just exactly what make a “blur” “hellish”?

“saccharine” used in numerous novels of all genres and from all time periods, sometimes correctly, most of the time not, judging from how many times I’ve seen this used incorrectly.  Saccharine is a late-20^th-century artificial sweetener that was created in a laboratory.  If you’re using it to describe something that is phony-sweet (the coworker who acts like they like you but who says nasty things about you behind your back), then you’re doing it right. “I was able to see right through Cora’s saccharine behavior.”  It shouldn’t be used as a metaphor for something that is truly sweet “his saccharine breath filled her senses as he moved closer.” unless, of course, the guy's a creeper.  If you’re portraying genuine sweetness, go with something that wasn't taken off the market for causing bladder cancer in rats.

A few commonly confused words

Part the first of what will probably be several posts.  Remember, the English language is messy.

affect/effect:  The simple answer is affect is a verb and effect is a noun. To keep them straight, watch your pronunciation and eventually you'll hear them correctly in your head. But when you're Word Nerdy like me, there's not a simple answer.  Stop reading if the simple answer is enough for you.  Effect, however, can also be used as a verb meaning "to put into effect" such as:  "In order to effect a change in civil rights laws, the people of a nation must overcome fears and prejudices."

uninterested/disinterested:  These had opposite meanings until sometime in the 19th century, but now the preferred use of uninterested is to show apathy or indifference, as in "She didn't like mystery novels and so was uninterested in attending the launch party for Vic Masters's latest Ace Gumshoe novel." Disinterested means unbiased, as in "It will be difficult to find a disinterested group of jurors in Crowley County because of the viciousness of the defendant's alleged crime."  You don't want a sports referee to be uninterested in the game, but you do want him or her to be disinterested in the outcome. Several online dictionaries say the two are synonymous and interchangeable because contextual use will make the intent obvious, but this Word Nerd prefers the distinction left intact.

lie/lay:  I get crap from people all the time about being something of a terminology nut, but the difference between these two is simple if you know the difference between a transitive verb and an intransitive one, and it becomes a sort of shorthand any time similar verbs show up.  Lie is intransitive, meaning it doesn't require a direct object.  "I need to lie down and try to get rid of my headache before company comes over tonight."  But:  "Lay the book on the table" because lay is transitive, meaning it takes a direct object.  In other words, "lie" is what you do, "lay" is what you do to something else.  Usually at this point, my ninth-grade English students will either snicker or one of the bolder spirits in the classroom will pipe up with, "or what is done to you." Or they'll ask, "so, 'getting laid" is proper usage because there's an object?" "Yes," I reply, "and this conversation never happened."

Simple past tense of lie is lay, as in "The shoes lay all winter under the snow, and were ruined by the time we found them in March."
Past participle is lain.  As with all participles, it requires an auxiliary verb:  "The book had lain on the shelf untouched for more than ten years."

Simple past tense of lay is laid, as in "He laid the flowers on the table and went to the pantry to look for a vase."
And its past participle is laid as well:  "She had laid her book on her nightstand and turned out the light when the phone rang.
Direct objects of both verbs are in yellow.

To clear your palate, enjoy a quote from Terry Pratchett:
"A European says, 'I can't understand this, what's wrong with me?' An American says, 'I can't understand this, what's wrong with him?'"