AO3 works tagged 'The Murderbot Diaries - Martha Wells' ([syndicated profile] murderbot_ao3_feed) wrote2025-08-17 12:21 am
AO3 works tagged 'The Murderbot Diaries - Martha Wells' ([syndicated profile] murderbot_ao3_feed) wrote2025-08-16 11:51 pm
kareila: (escherknot)
kareila ([personal profile] kareila) wrote2025-08-16 07:54 pm
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more of the same

Yesterday I drove Connor to campus so that we could scout out all of his classrooms. It was hot as balls out but we paced ourselves, and the buildings themselves were all air conditioned. I also showed him where to find Robby's office (although we couldn't enter the building without him), investigated places to camp out with a laptop in the main campus library, and had him buy me lunch with his meal card.

Today I went to the local used book store for their Penny-a-Page sale. I knowwwwwwwww I don't need more books, but I do need more adventure in my life and it was cheaper than a trip to the beach or IKEA. Besides, the sale limit was 5 books, so I couldn't get into too much trouble. I ended up with about $65 worth of used books for something like $17 plus tax, so it was worth it.

I also put in an online order for some D&D sourcebooks as a birthday treat. I was hoping to get the new Artificer supplement, but it's been delayed from August to December.

Lately I've been rereading the first three Greta Helsing books in order to refresh my memory before catching up on the final installments. My pile of library books is down from 18 to a slightly more manageable 12, although some of them are very large.
Unshelved strip of the day (currently in repeats) ([syndicated profile] unshelved_feed) wrote2025-08-17 12:00 am
dewline: Text - "On the DEWLine" (Default)
On the DEWLine 2.0: Dwight Williams ([personal profile] dewline) wrote2025-08-16 09:04 pm
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Update: 16 August 2025

I got the bins from Canadian Tire.

I'm still recovering from the shopping trip. Considering that I walked half of it in the weather I did, I should have gone directly to bed.

Came downstairs to the office, instead.

Thinking about cleaning the iCan-branded computer-mouse, particularly the scroll-wheel. If I knew where on iFixit to look...
senmut: Drizzt and Guen in front of a faded image of Malice (Forgotten Realms: Drizzt and Guen and Ma)
Asp ([personal profile] senmut) wrote2025-08-16 07:02 pm

Curse of the Faerie King, updated

Curse of the Faerie King (16004 words) by Merfilly
Chapters: 7/7
Fandom: Forgotten Realms, The Legend of Drizzt Series - R. A. Salvatore
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Characters: Vierna Do'Urden, Zaknafein Do'Urden, Drizzt Do'Urden, Nalfein Do'Urden
Additional Tags: Mostly Gen, Eventual Relationships, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Ensemble Cast, but with wide divergence
Summary:

Vierna was startled the first time her sister was a brother. But she wasn't going to let that stop Dreeza growing up strong, no matter what strings she had to pull.



Entire fic linked above, or read just the new chapter at AO3.

Curse of the Faerie King: Chapter 7

Being summoned by the Matron of the House was never a good thing in either wizard's mind. Gromph had more than enough trouble as Arch-Mage of the city. Nalfein, juggling the responsibility of raising Gromph's hidden child against teaching in Sorcere, merely hoped the mind-flayer wasn't present. He enjoyed being free to pursue his studies, teach the bright girl, and have Gromph satisfied with saving his life.

That the meeting was held on a walkway above a holding pit for slaves, full of filthy duergar was almost intriguing enough to offset Gromph's irritation. What was Yvonnel up to now?

"Both of you are to learn all that these wretches know about where they came from," she said without preamble. "All the ways in and out, and what sent them scurrying into our patrols."

Gromph scowled. "Enlighten us as to why duergar would know anything worth your time, Mother?"

Nalfein recognized the strategic familial title as a tactic he had once used against Malice's scheming. It was good to see some things remained the same despite changing Houses.

"Haerinvureem has been killed, and I seek vengeance for old business," Yvonnel told him, more forthcoming than Nalfein had expected. "Dwarves now hold a strategic location that I will possess. See to this task swiftly -- or else!"

"Yes, Matron," and "As you wish," overlapped. Nalfein surveyed the filthy lot in disdain, before the woman left them to it.





Nalfein itched in his robes the more the tales poured out of the duergar under his and Gromph's interrogation. There could not be two such drow in existence. He wasn't certain, but he also needed to learn for himself. If Matron Baenre was intent on conquest of the dwarf hall, and it was Dreeza, Nalfein had a wish to not face her in combat.

She had been Zaknafein's heir in all ways, after all, and the way she melded magic to her combat had proven deadly to at least one experienced wizard after all. And if she survived, did that mean the other two did? Could Nalfein find a way out of Menzoberranzan by putting his sister in his debt during the invasion?

Or because of it?

A slow, sly smile crossed his lips, enhancing his sinister opinion as he selected his next victim for the questioning, building a more complete picture of the Hall, its fighters, and most especially of the purple-eyed drow with two scimitars.





Gromph settled a plate of seared fungi between he and Nalfein, in the latter's rooms, and set the tangy sauce in its bowl above the plate. Nalfein noted it was his favorite, and had his unseen servant pour liquor from the bottle behind the usual blend.

"You got distracted. Luckily, Vendes doesn't pay close enough attention to men to notice," Gromph said.

"Considering this move to more openly have a resource close to the Surface, pondering the ramifications," Nalfein said idly, taking a bite afterwards to give himself time to think.

"You mean wasting resources on something when we have other means of gathering all we could ever need from above?"

Nalfein's eyes went wide to hear Gromph be so critical, so openly. The Arch-Mage tapped a certain ring he wore, reassuring the younger man that all was hidden, for now.

"It seems this would be more a move for her than to glorify Her," Nalfein said very carefully. "So many things could go wrong, even."

"Hmm, but how to insure the correct things go wrong?" Gromph asked, considering plans and contingencies.

"We make contact with the drow involved." Nalfein knew this was a risk, but had weighed and measured where Gromph stood, was certain Gromph himself had been why Baenre took him in instead of ordering his death when Malice fell.

"A drow who fights by dwarves is no ally to ones like us, my dagger-wand."

Oh, he had Gromph intrigued if the endearments were coming out.

Nalfein smiled, a dangerous one, and nodded. "Except. I believe the drow is Malice's last child, and I did all I could to keep that one friendly with me."

"That one, is it? The daughter that was never schooled?"

"The child," Nalfein corrected, "that could never pass through school because of the Curse of the Faerie King."

Gromph's expression shifted rapidly through several emotions, before he returned the smile. "Nalfein, you keep being useful to me."

"Good. You keep me supplied with books, after all."

They both laughed, tabling the talk of their treachery for now, as it would take some time to work out the angles. One way or another, they were going to twist Yvonnel's desires for the dwarven hall into her downfall.





Nalfein shut his eyes as he slipped into his room for the night, a headache pounding from being under constant low light elsewhere in the city. He'd only just started to remove his outer robes, taxed by teaching Lirael a more advanced potion, stretching her ability yet again. He did not want the knock on the door, or the fact it was a specific rhythm to tell him Gromph was there.

At least the man knocked. In the early days of his assignment under Baenre patronage, the man had often just walked in, to make the point of who Nalfein needed to keep happy. He shrugged the robe back into place, made sure his favorite wand was in place, and let the unseen servant open the door.

Gromph, and the mercenary leader known as Jarlaxle entered and closed the door back.

"Tut, tut, no lights?" that dandified drow asked in a flippant tone.

"Shut it, Jarlaxle. Nalfein has more than earned the relief from them."

"Ahh, a good little pet."

Nalfein refused to bridle, showing nothing but contempt toward the unsettling man.

"What brings you with him, Arch-Mage?" he did ask politely, fixing his main attention on his superior.

"We have the beginning of a plan, to see about threads we may pull," Gromph said. "Jarlaxle, stop needling Nalfein; I assure you he works far more efficiently on a peer to peer level than being reminded of the past."

Jarlaxle swept his hat off, dipping in a bow with it over his chest to Nalfein. "Apologies, good saer. It's so rare that I get to meet the ones Gromph squirrels away, as if he fears I would poach your services for my own small pursuits."

Gromph did not actually growl, but there was an impression of it — and Nalfein relaxed further. This strange man was someone his friend was comfortable with, to a degree, and that meant it was safer to show ease in the situation.

"How may I assist in pulling threads then?"

"How's your penmanship?" Jarlaxle asked in a jaunty tone. "I may be able to have a letter delivered, to your unusual contact through a third party."

Nalfein looked at Gromph, who nodded. "Such a letter would add one more step of plausible escape for myself, after all," Gromph said. "And Jarlaxle knows how to keep his balancing act in place."

"I've managed so far," the man cheerfully said.

Nalfein acquired his writing materials, made himself remember which version of the longhand writing Dreeza had been taught, and nodded, hastily writing the letter that was needed. He was a little surprised when Jarlaxle added a few details in his idle conversation with Gromph, ones that had not been known to either of them, and he wondered just who the mercenary actually was in the scheme of things.





Nalfein was surprised to learn that the svirfnebli were to be the messengers. He listened to the threat and dismissal exchange, as clearly choreographed as if it were a performance, but obviously built from long association, as he sized up the shaman with the other deep gnome. He could not recall ever seeing them this close before, not even in his youth as a common fighter for House Do'Urden.

"Any betrayal!"

"Of course, dear Firble, of course." Jarlaxle then walked away, looking purposefully away from the other three. Nalfein was still uncertain as to the extent of the mercenary's involvement in House Baenre, but Gromph had been specific. Nothing said at this meeting could be heard by the mercenary, once Nalfein was the speaker.

"I will need to provide a hush over us, so that my ally can remain free and clear of what is said, as it deals with drow of a House that no longer exists," Nalfein told the pair.

"We are watching you, and you will die if you use trickery to foul us," Firble promised him.

"I can almost respect your tenacious hold on those threats," Nalfein told the smaller gray man.

"Go ahead, drow," the shaman said, and Nalfein pulled up his particular version of silence, coupled with a non-detection that obscured them from sound or sight. He'd kept this spell for himself ever since an accidental casting of it, finding it useful against clerics.

"I have a letter. It is for a drow who allies to the dwarves in the Hall above, the one Jarlaxle gave you a map to. The letter must go to this drow, to avert certain plans that could damage all of us in this section of the Underdark."

"How can we trust you to not be setting the dwarves up for betrayal?" Firble demanded.

"Because that drow was — is — my sibling, and once my student. I am of House Do'Urden, and so is the drow. I have interests in making sure my student stays alive, safe, and not mad at me."

He could not admit to wanting to be out of Baenre's House, to wanting a measure of vengeance for the fall of his own, but that much might appeal to their sense of family ethics.

"Give us the letter," the shaman said. "We will renew our ties with the dwarves, now that the Living Shadow is dead. And if the drow chooses to listen, it is done."

Nalfein pulled the letter out, passing it over, and inclined his head. "Until we meet again, some day perhaps. Peacefully, even."

Firble made a rude noise, but then Nalfein dispersed the magic, and both parties went their own way.





"ELF!"

Drizzt had been told the king wanted him right away, and he had come as soon as he could, canceling a holiday with Alustriel. That was often their lives; one or the other would be needed elsewhere.

"I apologize for how long it took me; none of the Tall Ones were in the city, and I did not want to bother a wizard," he said as he came over.

Bruenor counted on his fingers, then glared at his friend. "S'posed tae be five days 'twixt here and there, not three!"

Drizzt laughed, then they clasped hands in true greeting.

"So what has happened?"

"Deep gnomes, asking for the drow named Do'Urden," Bruenor said. "Been getting by, but hard tae speak proper with nae words in common."

Drizzt frowned, then gestured for Bruenor to guide him to the guests. "I cannot imagine why deep gnomes would wish to speak with me, but at least they usually have some Undercommon." No message would come all this way from his father or sister via gnomes; they had more direct means. Vierna had insisted that her little sister always have the sending stone on her, and could ask for the spell from her god anyway. Zak would send messages through Vierna… so Drizzt was at a loss.

"Do'Urden?" one of the three deep gnomes asked even as Bruenor led him into the guest suite that had been hastily made in the Undercity.

"Yes, and I promise I am not like other drow," Drizzt said swiftly in Undercommon, noting the stiffened postures. "May I bring up faerie fire? Bruenor is not able to see in this low a light, and I have lived under lights more than not."

"Polite," the shaman said, all three relaxing, before the first one nodded at Drizzt's request. The purple faerie fire settled above them, centered, and Bruenor relaxed some as well, not having liked being in the dark so fully.

"Need the light, anyway," the third one told him. "We have a letter, from one of your House."

Dinin, maybe? Which opened new worries, as Dinin might know of a threat to his family, given Jarlaxle and Zaknafein being so obviously fond of one another.

The first pulled out the letter, and Drizzt immediately forgot about Dinin. The way it had been puzzle-folded was Nalfein's doing, completely.

House Baenre. That was where Drizzt's wizard-brother had wound up. Which made him hold his hand over the letter for a longer moment, seeking if it held magic.

Once he determined it wasn't a magical trap, he did take it, and moved to lean against the wall, carefully unfolding it to avoid damaging the writing within.

After deciphering the words, he closed his eyes, and looked at the svirfnebli. "My gratitude for being the messengers, and I offer a warning. Pull your people in, until Menzoberranzan retreats." He then looked at Bruenor and switched languages. "We need to ready for war, my friend."

"Thought as much, me elf. Well, so be it."





The only reason Vhaeraun allowed His cleric to go aid dwarves was because those dwarves had killed a drow nemesis in the form of Shimmergloom. Zaknafein had not been certain at first, but knew ways to defuse whatever part Bregan D'aerthe was forced to play in the invasion.

With the warning, the Hall was prepared for the invasion, and Menzoberranzan was going to be licking its wounds for some time. All drow captives who surrendered were turned over to Vierna to be sifted out to her Lord's cities for new lives.

Except one.

Nalfein woke with a headache, stripped to his skin save a rough long tunic, and his sibling sitting across from him. Her — their? his? — face was still swollen from a whip-bite, and one arm was in a cast, but Dreeza looked at peace.

"Sorry we had to strip you down," Dreeza told him. "We didn't want anything you were carrying to be a 'return to sender' charm, and Vierna wanted to be sure you had a choice."

"So our sister does live, and I thought I glimpsed the Weapon Master," Nalfein said, nonchalant about his current state, even as he shifted on the cot he had been laid out on. "Thank you for listening to the letter. Care to tell me the end result?"

"One Matron escaped the party of them with the enslaved dwarf king. He, his descendant, myself, and father accounted for the rest, their attending junior clerics, the mind-flayer, and a handful of other drow that stupidly got in the way."

Nalfein was betting it had been Oblodra, but didn't ask. Dreeza would have said in Baenre herself had been the escapee. "What now, little sibling?"

Dreeza lit up at that casual acceptance of being different. "I mostly go by Drizzt these days, and have more control over the change. Vierna will always call me Dreeza; she's a possessive wean-mother/big sister."

Nalfein chuckled. "She had her peculiar ways."

"As to you? You can either 'escape' us and flee to Menzoberranzan, if that is where you wish to be, or you can take up an offer to go very far away, with a letter of reference from Vierna, to attach yourself to a temple of Vhaeraun as a wizard."

Nalfein's eyebrow arched at that, and things clicked further into place. "Is she there to help me figure out the ways of it?"

Dreeza nodded. "And father, who has grudgingly said you were tolerable all the years he knew you."

"Abyssal stones, but I remember how jealous every fighter was that he got the spot for Melee Magthere that year," Nalfein mused. "I wasn't yet officially an apprentice to the House Wizard of the time, but I was just as glad to not be dodging that many murder attempts."

"Oh you'll have to tell Vierna stories about what you remember!" Dreeza said in delight. "If — "

"Oh I intend to take her offer. Gromph is a comfortable associate, but he is still very drow and I could become useless or a liability to him at any time." Nalfein shrugged. "Never cared for Lloth, probably won't care for her god, but if I can keep learning the arts, I will go."

"Good." Dreeza stood up, still graceful even with the aftermath of the battle stamped on them. When his sibling sat beside him, Nalfein decided to keep currying favor, having noted the value of clothing and armor alike marking Dreeza — Drizzt — as still high-ranked in their new life. He slung an arm up over the shoulders, careful not to jar the broken arm, and looked over at Drizzt.

"Is starting over hard?" he asked.

"Not when you choose it. Not when you want freedom that much."

"Glad to hear it, little sib." He squeezed a little. "If I tell you which items I know were mine and untouched, can I have them back?"

"Describe them, and I will sort through. The rest of them will have to be checked over by a stronger wizard — wait, you said Gromph. I might have to ask my Lady to visit, then, so it is another Arch-Mage checking them over."

Nalfein threw his head back and laughed, hearing his strange sibling admit that level of a relationship.

"Dreeza, no, Drizzt. I am so damn glad Vierna managed to save you, and that Mother listened to me and her about how best to use your presence in the family."

"I am too, Nalfein, and I'm actually glad you survived," Drizzt admitted, leaning into him. "House Do'Urden, ancient house of Daermon N'a'shezbaernon, represented by a Vhaeraunite cleric, best swordsman ever, a canny wizard, a fair enough lizard riding fighter, and me! Pretty sure some cosmic entity is laughing over the change of fortunes."

"Yeah I guess… wait, Dinin?!"

Drizzt settled in to fill in the gaps, about their other brother, and life since the city for them all.

marycatelli: (Default)
marycatelli ([personal profile] marycatelli) wrote in [community profile] girlgenius_lair2025-08-16 08:02 pm

It arrives!

My volume 21 arrived in the mail! They are coming!
flamingsword: “in my defense, I was left unsupervised” (Default)
flamingsword ([personal profile] flamingsword) wrote2025-08-16 07:39 pm
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(no subject)

School is still kicking my ass; I haven’t had a day off in two weeks; I still miss you all dearly. I got an A average for the first semester, then promptly got a B- on the first Pathology quiz. Let’s hope that I catch on faster from here on out.

I just finished the 122nd hexipuff, so I am about 2/5ths of the way to the eventual size. I’m moving along at a decent clip for someone with no brain space left most days for anything that even slightly smells like productivity. Could be worse, I guess - it could smell like teen spirit.

Ugh. I’m going to go back to doing nothing in particular. My brain is so tired.
torachan: a kitten looking out the window (chloe in window)
Travis ([personal profile] torachan) wrote2025-08-16 04:43 pm
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Weekly Reading

Currently Reading
How to Survive a Horror Story
16%. A group of people are invited to the reading of a will for a famous horror author at his family mansion, only to find it's haunted. Interesting so far.

Newcomer
52%. Second (in the English translation order) Detective Kaga mystery. This is told in an interesting manner, not with the detective as the POV character, but with each section being from the POV of a possible suspect, but with each section wrapping up by clearing that person. I liked the first book better, but I'm enjoying this one, too.

Shady Hollow
74%. A typical small village murder mystery, but they're all woodland creatures. I got this on an audible sale when I was looking for a second book to buy on a buy one get one free sale, so I took a chance on something I was not wholly sold on and without having finished this book I can say I definitely will not be continuing the series. I have often struggled to figure out what makes something a "cozy mystery", and it seems that a lot of times things are declared to be cozies just because the person solving the mystery is a woman, or they're not a professional, but then I started this book and I'm like, that's definitely a cozy mystery. Way more time is spent on describing in detail the various animals and their town and all that than on the mystery, especially in the first third of the book. It's not what I'm interested in, and for me this would have worked much better as a comic, where you can just show all the cute animals and stuff through illustration, without going on and on about it forever. The mystery is fine, though, so it's not a bad book, just not a good fit for me.

The War on Alcohol: Prohibition and the Rise of the American State
13%.

Recently Finished
Isle of Ever
I was not expecting this book to end without wrapping anything up. There is a sequel, and this really feels like what should be one book split into two, which is not my preference.

A Death at the Dionysus Club
I guess these books are from a small publisher, but that doesn't excuse the lack of professionalism in the audiobooks. The first one had a narrator with a lozenge in his mouth the whole time, and this second one has a different narrator who did the whole first chapter in a wildly different voice than he did the rest of the book, like he was trying it out and decided not to continue with it, but rather than rerecord the first chapter, just left it at that. The voice used for the first chapter was terrible, so I'm glad he switched, but why on earth leave it like that?

Drop Dead Sisters
This was fun. Not sure if I will read the sequel or not, though.

Abscond
Coming of age short story set in the 1960s about an Indian American boy dealing with his father's sudden death. I enjoyed it.
kenjari: (illuminated border)
kenjari ([personal profile] kenjari) wrote2025-08-16 07:15 pm
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Book Review

A Great and Terrible Beauty
by Libba Bray

This gaslamp, mildly gothic fantasy novel is set in the 1890s, largely at a girls' boarding school outside of London. Gemma Doyle grew up in India, but after her mother's tragic and mysterious death, she and her devastated father return to England where her father descends into laudanum addiction and Gemma is sent to the Spence School. There she must navigate a rather catty social scene and come to terms with her nascent magical powers. Gemma can travel to the realms, a sort of faeland where she can do magic and potentially bring that magic back into the real world. Such power is also a dangerous temptation and Gemma and her friends find themselves in over their heads.
I very much enjoyed this book. The portrayal of adolescent girls was spot on, such that I both loved the characters and found myself exasperated with them from time to time. I really liked the way Gemma threads the needle between the popular mean girls and the outcast scholarship student and manages to bind them all into a cohesive friend group. I also really liked the exploration of how patriarchal societies seek to control and diminish girls just stepping into womanhood.
AO3 works tagged 'The Murderbot Diaries - Martha Wells' ([syndicated profile] murderbot_ao3_feed) wrote2025-08-16 06:37 pm

No, you won't.

Posted by tiredsn0w

by

They’d been going in circles with this for the past cycle; a back-and-forth that barely constituted a spat between humans and their organic limitations, but an eternity for two beings mostly comprised of computer parts.
Exposure is an important part of recovery.
I’m not going! It’s a hospital, ART, it’s a fucking–
SecUnit's chest heaved, almost desperate for breath despite its highly efficient lungs taking in more than enough oxygen in the environmentally-controlled atmosphere.
Please talk to me.
Shut up.

Words: 965, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

loganberrybunny: Drawing of my lapine character's face by Eliki (Default)
loganberrybunny ([personal profile] loganberrybunny) wrote2025-08-16 11:37 pm
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A bit gobby tonight

Public

The Gob, Bewdley, 16th August 2025
197/365: The Gob, Bewdley
Click for a larger, sharper image

Okay, Gobby. I was a bit stuck for subjects for today's 365 photo, so I ended up taking this just outside Bewdley town centre. It's not a very interesting alleyway -- it's just a minor shortcut that I hardly ever bother using -- but it does have a fun name. Slightly disappointingly, the name "The Gob" doesn't seem to have any kind of historical or scandalous origin; "gob" simply used to mean an alleyway around here centuries ago. I assume there's some link with the still-used term "gob" for "mouth", but I don't actually know.
Language Log ([syndicated profile] languagelog_feed) wrote2025-08-16 10:05 pm

Reading Instruction in the mid 19th century

Posted by Mark Liberman

The McGuffey Readers are a series of elementary-school texts first published in 1836, and widely used in the United States during the late 19th and early 20th centuries. I'm not quite old enough to have to have experienced McGuffey in school, but I've been interested for a long time in the problems of early reading instruction, and so I did skim some dog-eared copies of McGuffey many years ago.

My involvement with the "Using Generative Artificial Intelligence for Reading R&D Center" (U-GAIN) has now involved me directly in relevant research, in collaboration with others at Penn, at Digital Promise, at mdrc, and at Amira Learning.  Wikipedia tells us that "The Science of Reading (SOR) is the discipline that studies the objective investigation and accumulation of reliable evidence about how humans learn to read and how reading should be taught". And the methods that have emerged from that process are similar in many ways to McGuffey's intuitively-derived methods — minus one interesting feature, namely McGuffey's emphasis on training students to produce a rhetorically effective performance of the passages that are given to them to read.

Here's a quote from Section I, Preliminary Remarks, of the 1853 edition of McGuffey's Newly Revised Eclectic Fourth Reader :

The great object to be accomplished in reading as a rhetorical exercise is, to convey to the hearer, fully and clearly, the ideas and feelings of the writer. In order to do this, it is necessary that the reader should himself thoroughly understand those sentiments and feelings. This is an essential point. It is true, he may pronounce the words as traced upon the page, and, if they are audibly and distinctly uttered, they will be heard, and in some degree understood, and, in this way, a general and feeble idea of the author's meaning may be obtained.

Ideas received in this manner, however, bear the same resemblance to the reality, that the dead body does to the living spirit . There is no soul in them. The author is stripped of all the grace and beauty of life, of all the expression and feeling which constitute the soul of his subject, and it may admit of a doubt, whether this fashion of reading is superior to the ancient symbolic or hieroglyphic style of communicating ideas.

At all events, it is very certain, that such readers, with every conceivable grace of manner, with the most perfect melody of voice, and with all other advantages combined, can never attain the true standard of excellence in this accomplishment. The golden rule here is, that the reader must be in earnest. The sentiments and feelings of the author whose language he is reading, must be infused into his own breast, and then, and not till then, is he qualified to express them.

Unfairness to hieroglyphics aside, this strikes me as a somewhat florid version of an obviously valid idea, namely that a reader's prosody gives evidence of their understanding, or lack of it. In U-GAIN discussions, Ran Liu of Amira Learning has suggested that a computational analysis of prosodic features could be an effective way to evaluate how well grade-school students understand what they're reading.

In the service of teaching effective expression of a text's intent, the various McGuffey readers add exercises on topics like emphasis, melody, pausing, and so on, to their exercises on phonic decoding and sentential word combination. Thus the section "Suggestions to Teachers" in the Fourth Reader starts this way:

To read with an appropriate tone, to pronounce every syllable properly and distinctly, and to observe the pauses, are the three most difficult points to be gained in making good readers. These points will require constant attention throughout the whole course of instruction upon this subject. Such other directions for reading, and such general rules as are considered of practical utility, will be found in the Introductory Article, and preceding the several lessons.

The section on Emphasis in the Third Reader starts like this:

If the pupil has received proper oral instruction, he has been taught to understand what he has read, and has already acquired the habit of emphasizing words. He is now prepared for a more formal introduction to the SUBJECT of emphasis, and for more particular attention to its first PRINCIPLES. This lesson, and the examples given, should be repeatedly practiced.

In reading and in talking, we always speak some words with more force than others. We do this, because the meaning of what we say depends most upon these words.

If I wish to know whether it is George or his brother who is sick, I speak the words George and brother with more force than the other words. I say, Is it George or his brother who is sick?

This greater force with which we speak the words is called EMPHASIS.

The words upon which emphasis is put, are sometimes printed in slanting letters, called Italics, and sometimes in CAPITALS.

The words printed in Italics in the following questions and answers, should be read with more force than the other words, that is, with emphasis.

Did you ride to town yesterday? No, my brother did.

Did you ride to town yesterday? No, I walked.

I don't know to what extent this level of attention to elocutionary rhetoric will help students learn to read with understanding. At a minimum, it suggests a route towards Ran's idea of a way to evaluate their understanding — but it might also develop into lessons aimed at helping them learn to express themselves more effectively.

rachelmanija: (Books: old)
rachelmanija ([personal profile] rachelmanija) wrote2025-08-16 03:31 pm

Tiny House, Big Fix, by Gail Anderson-Dargatz



Of the MANY bait-and-switch books I've been tricked into reading, this takes the prize for the biggest switch. The back cover says it's about a single mom carpenter who builds a tiny house for herself and her daughters to live in. The title is about tiny houses. There is a tiny house on the cover. I read the book because I thought it would be about building a tiny house.

The book is actually about the events leading up to her building the tiny house. She doesn't build the tiny house until the LAST CHAPTER. It takes up about four pages.
kaberett: Trans symbol with Swiss Army knife tools at other positions around the central circle. (Default)
kaberett ([personal profile] kaberett) wrote2025-08-16 11:14 pm
Entry tags:

[books, embodiment] further grousing

Just, you know, For My Own Reference: a list of the exercises included in Hypermobility Without Tears. I am going to come back through and add links to Pilates and physio explainers for all of these.

Read more... )