I loved the emotion in The Seven Year Slip. Ashley Poston knows how to grab your heart and keep you reading. This rom-com was fun, yet it involved a story of loss. The main character has lost her beloved aunt but truly finds her person, her best friend, her true love in the process I’m not always a fan of time travel stories, but this one had me turning the pages. I previously wrote about The Dead Romantics. I can’t decide which one I like better, but will be looking for more from Poston.
In this blog I offer a different type of book review—one that’s combined with vocabulary building. In The Seven Year Slip I found a few interesting words, as follows:
From The Seven Year Slip:
Every touch, every brush of his fingertips across my skin, had a weight to it. A reverence.
reverence: noun, deep respect for someone or something / archaic – a gesture indicative of respect; a bow or curtsy / (His/Your Reverence) a title given to a member of the clergy, or used in addressing them
verb, regard or treat with deep respect
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From The Seven Year Slip:
“You’re a sight for sore eyes. And you’re right on time for dinner,” he said into my hair. “I hope you like japchae.”
japchae: noun, (in Korean cuisine) a dish consisting of noodles made from sweet potato starch, stir-fried with vegetables and other ingredients, and typically seasoned with soy sauce and sesame oil.
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From The Seven Year Slip:
On the ride over, I imagined what his restaurant would look like—maybe it looked like the one he talked about over cold noodles. Long family-style tables and crimson-red walls, comfy and warm, the leather chairs broken in. Local artists would be on the walls, the chandeliers this amalgamation of scones and candelabras.
amalgamation: noun, the action, process, or result of combining or uniting
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From The Seven Year Slip:
Sometimes the people you loved left you halfway through a story.
Sometimes they left you without a goodbye.
And, sometimes they stayed around in little ways. In the memory of a musical. In the smell of their perfume. In the sound of the rain, and the itch for adventure, and the yearning for that liminal space between one airport terminal and the next.
liminal: adjective, 1. Occupying a position at, or on both sides of, a boundary or threshold 2. Relating to a transitional or initial stage of a process
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From The Seven Year Slip:
Then he left for the next table, and my friends began to talk about the dishes on the menu—almost all of them were iterations of recipes in his proposal but heightened to fit this elevated space.
iteration: noun, the repetition of a process or utterance / repetition of mathematical or computational procedure applied to the result of a previous application, typically as a means of obtaining successively closer approximations to the solution of a problem / a new version of a piece of computer hardware or software
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From The Seven Year Slip:
Even though my parents were paragons of a successful romance—they fit each other’s quirks and hang-ups like puzzle pieces—my aunt had lived alone almost her entire life, and it wasn’t all that bad.
paragon: noun, a person or thing regarded as a perfect example of a particular quality / a person or thing viewed as a model of excellence / a perfect diamond of 100 carats or more
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From The Seven Year Slip:
He shook his head. “I’m not talking about that. A restaurant doesn’t have to be fancy, with artfully plated smears of coulis and beurre blanc—”
coulis: noun, a thin fruit or vegetable puree, used as a sauce
Beurre blanc: noun, a creamy sauce made with butter, onions or shallots, and vinegar or lemon juice, usually served with seafood dishes
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What interesting words or terms have you found in your recent reading?
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To connect or learn more about Ashley Poston and her books, find her at https://www.ashposton.com/.
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Definitions are typically from the dictionary that comes with my Mac or The New Oxford American Dictionary.
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“The word is only a representation of the meaning; even at its best, writing almost always falls short of full meaning. Given that, why in God’s name would you want to make things worse by choosing a word which is only cousin to the one you really wanted to use?” ― Stephen King, On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft
