Trusted by 500+ fans to find the fun in the funereal, the absurd in the macabre, and delight in the darkness. Join fiction author Morgan Delaney three times a week for genre-bending stories of cozy horror, dark fantasy and a brain with mind of its own...
how can you say that :(
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Hey Reader, Time for another peek in the typo dictionary. And it finally occurred to me that a pronunciation guide for these brand new words might be helpful! So, without further colloquial English term for having a stylist arrange one’s hair, three letters,* here are the ten hottest new words on the planet this October: bluck, n. (“bluk“) A whale’s underwater sneeze. bouguest, n. (“boo-gest”) An unpleasant feeling of intimacy caused by a casual acquaintance removing their glasses for the first time, revealing their naked, smaller-than-expected eyes. despearte, adj. (“dez-pert”) Keen to enjoy a wonky-shaped apple. Didease, n. (“di-dees“) The final stage of a non-fatal disease. expode, v. (“ekspode“) To finally accept a missing sock has escaped for good and remove the remaining singleton from one’s sock drawer. mopuseman, n. med. (“moe-poos-man”) A man with one or more hollow fingers. meagles, n. (“mee-gals“) The scientific unit of measurement for earwax. nuch, n. (“nutch“) A child’s bouquet, made of grass and pretty weeds snile, v. archaic, of steam train drivers. (“snyle“) Once the furnace has been stoked, to sit out “side-saddle” on the engine. tonly, adv. (“tone-lee”) To give the impression of wearing leather racing gloves. Once I get enough of these, I’m hoping to add some illustrations and publish them as a book, like The Meaning of Liff, from which I obviously got the idea. So if you really like - or hate - them, let me know! *without further ado. “a do,” you see? |
Dark, Strange and Fantastic Fiction
Trusted by 500+ fans to find the fun in the funereal, the absurd in the macabre, and delight in the darkness. Join fiction author Morgan Delaney three times a week for genre-bending stories of cozy horror, dark fantasy and a brain with mind of its own...
it’s been all bloody go here at the HQ of the Official Hawkinge-By-Hythe Historical Society. First, I had those man sniffles, then a sudden change in weather gave me a migraine. And then I got lumbago. Look, I hate making a fuss, but I’m putting my foot down – carefully, because of the lumbago – whoever has the Morgan voodoo doll, could you stop now, please? The internet tells me “lumbago” is an “outdated term for lower back pain”, and I agree. We should all be using the more evocative German...
Made you look, you dirty duck. Made you look for nothing. That’s the version we sang as children after tricking someone into looking at nothing. Or “gnaw-tin” with the proper Irish accent. Different places around the world have different versions of the song. Perhaps you were a dirty crook rather than a duck. Or at risk of being turned into turtle soup. But the game is best played in Germany, where they don’t seem to know it. When we moved to Heidelberg, our flatmate Anne loved to suddenly...
Listen. Do you hear that? Numbers, floating in the air around us. Trying to tell me something. Listen. It can’t be a coincidence because in my next book, The Cat Wore Black, radios come to Hawkinge-By-Hythe. People love them. Radio gives them all sorts of things. Music, news, entertainment. And when the station stops broadcasting at night, the radios transmit strange random numbers. Which gives them the willies. Then I read in Wired that plastic surgeons use the formula of the Fibonacci...