Oh prose most purple, darker than the fresh wet surface of a newly plucked plum or the bright polished skin of a Chinese eggplant, how may I adore thee? Might the mighty gates of the incarnate delight of such Olympian gods as we know be filled by the torrential downpouring flood of words from Mrs. Amanda McKittrick Ros? Surely the scintillating cascade of omnipotent verbiage as it fills our glowing globes of vision will create a lambent shimmer of delight!
Oh, yeah. I just discovered Mrs. Ros. While reading a book on dialog and description (one can never learn their craft to well, so I study daily) she was mentioned in passing as the worlds best bad example, so of COURSE I had to find out more.
Her writing is so mind-numbingly hideous as to be epic. I could only aspire to such heights of lurid overdescription as I have read today! Truly, I am humbled.
Now if I can only stop laughing long enough to eat lunch!