Nora wants to help YOU

I received this email today from someone named Nora Silva, with "Nora wants to catch up" as the subject. I don't know any Nora Silvas, much less any Noras, but out of curiosity, I opened the email. Here's what I read, in its original form (i.e., no edits):

Hello, how are you? I'm about to tell you something that you absolutely need to hear. I will not beat around the bush, I will hurry up and get straight to the point. Less than 33% of females can achieve climax by having intercourse alone. That means that most women are left unsatisfied. You may believe that you rock her bedroom world but truth be told, you probably don't! It's OK though because we have a product you will love. [And then she had a link here, which I refuse to open.]
Nora

Whatever she's selling, I'm not buying. But as a wannabe writer, I would like to take this opportunity to critique Nora's writing, sentence by sentence.

1. Nora first asks me how I am doing. Very polite, that one, but it's obvious that she's just trying to be nice. She doesn't really care how I'm doing because she doesn't even know me, so instantly, she comes off as disingenuous. Lesson to take away: Be genuine when you write and when you speak.

2. Nora then tells me that she's about to tell me something very important. This is a useless and unnecessary sentence. Lesson to takeaway: Don't tell me you're about to tell me. Just tell me.

3. Nora then goes on to say she won't "beat around the bush," assuring me that she's going to get "straight to the point." Anyone else see the irony here? Lesson to takeaway: If you're wasting time saying that you'll get to the point, then you're wasting time saying that you'll get to the point. (Profound, I know.)

4. Nora then divulges a depressing statistic. That is all I will say about Nora's fourth sentence.

5. Nora's fifth sentence is absolutely useless and unnecessary as well, simply because it states what is now obvious to the reader. If fewer than 33% are left satisfied (as stated in the previous sentence), then clearly the remaining 67+% (which, by definition, constitutes "most") will be left unsatisfied. I'm offended that Nora feels the need to call my ability to do simple arithmetic into question. Lesson to take away: Nora sucks.

6. Lastly, Nora goes on to assume that I am a man attempting to rock a woman's bedroom world. Wrong on two counts, Nora! I am neither a man nor a lesbian. Lesson to take away: Shivnit is neither a man nor a lesbian.

7. Nora then goes on to assume that I am failing miserably in the sack and will find salvation by trying out her product. Lesson to take away: Don't be presumptuous like Nora. You'll never be able to sell anything and you'll make nice people cry.

Here's how I would've written it:

Hello. If you are a heterosexual and sexually-active male, then you must keep reading. Fewer than 33% of females can achieve climax through intercourse alone, so if you really want to rock her bedroom world, we have a product you will love. [Link here.] Good luck!
Nora

Ah, much better.

Say What?!

Ever been caught making a V-line for the buffet table, wishing someone a Happy Valentime's Day, cruising the waters of the Specific Ocean, or singing Christmas carols about Jeff's nuts roasting on an open fire? Then you, my friend, have been the victim of a verbal accident more formally known as a malapropism or a mondegreen.

A mondegreen is defined as a word or phrase that results from a mishearing of a similar-sounding word or phrase, often in such a way that the mishearing acquires its own meaning. The word mondegreen came into being in the 1950s, when freelance writer and lecturer Sylvia Wright wrote that as a young girl, she had heard a Scottish ballad that included the lines

They had slain the Earl of Moray
And laid 'im on the green.

But what she heard was

They had slain the Earl of Moray
And Lady Mondegreen.

Her misinterpretation gave the poem a new (and more vicious) meaning, but a meaning that made perfect sense nonetheless. Writing about her unintentional blunder, Wright coined the word mondegreen and used it to describe all such mishearings. (Incidentally, doesn't this make the word mondegreen itself a mondegreen?)

Closely related to the mondegreen is the malapropism. Whereas mondegreens are mishearings of words, malapropisms are mispronunciations of words, usually with comic effect. Books and media are rife with examples of these. Remember when Mike Tyson expressed his fear of "fading into bolivian"? Or when Tony Soprano was "miffled" by his son's manic-depressive behavior towards the end of the acclaimed TV series? Or your rude third cousin twice-removed who "requested your presents at the celebration of her wedding" last month? Sure, we all know what they meant to say, which is why what they actually said is both amusing and malapropistic.

In conclusion, I leave you with the following advice:
1. Never misunderestimate the president.
2. Take nothing for granite.
3. On second thought, go ahead and misunderestimate the president.
4. Please be careful with your near-homophones. Poor Jeff really hates having his nuts scorched every December.

Best Website Ever: Shivnit's Glowing Review

As much as I love to read, I have always made it a point to avoid joining book clubs. For quite some time, I've had this perception, however misinformed, of book clubs being cultish and exclusive, run by some dictator who chooses what to read and what themes to discuss based on personal preferences, with little regard to other club members. I'm not sure exactly what gave rise to this belief, but I have a distinct feeling that Oprah had something to do with it.

Recently, however, a good friend of mine introduced me to the ultimate book lover's website. GoodReads is every bibliophile's fantasy, a place that offers one-stop shopping for readers and writers alike. It works a little bit like Friendster and MySpace, except the focus is on sharing your literary interests rather than on finding out who's doing what to whom and then looking for photos of it. (Don't lie, you know you do it too.)

In a non-cultish, non-exclusive, non-dictatorial way, GoodReads offers a forum for bookworms to rate and review books they've read, share lists of books they intend to read, and even post some of their own writing. You can even create groups to unite members having common literary interests. On a basic level, it's just a nice, convenient way to keep track of what books you've read and what you thought of them -- a service that any avid reader can appreciate. The best part is that GoodReads is free and easy to join, which leaves me no choice but to highly recommend this website to all my fellow book-lovers. Happy reading!

Worst Book Ever: Shivnit's Scathing Review

I've read more of James Patterson's novels than I care to admit, and from what I've observed, their general pattern is a little bit of exposition followed by some drama and suspense, which is mostly boring or unbelievably contrived (or both), followed by some sappy, overly-sentimental, unimaginative, and highly predictable denouement.

Suzanne's Diary for Nicholas is a deviation from Patterson's mode of operation in the following respect: it isn't suspenseful or even remotely thrilling. Not even if you stand on your head, squint your eyes, and read it backwards. While preparing to jump out of an airplane. Flying over the Marianas Trench. It's just plain cheesy, in a vomit-inducing kind of way. And that's a bold statement, coming from a cheese-lover.

On principle, I like to finish anything I start, but I couldn't even get through this one. This book is the sappiest, corniest, lamest, most boring and unromantic piece of crap since... well, probably since the Patterson novel that immediately preceded it. Love story? Please. Do yourself a favor and watch "The Notebook" instead.