TIL that BOLO stands for “Be On the Look Out.”
(and it’s not implausible that someone else learned that “TIL” stands for “Today I Learned”)
You’d think The Catcher in the Rye wouldn’t be that difficult a read; but Salinger’s consistent use of “crumby” (as though Holden’s objection was to something being characterized by its contamination by or resemblance to something infested with crumbs) made it a real slog for me.
It’s crummy, J.D. CRUMMY.
The Warrior Cat books are like this. The cats don’t “say” anything, they mew, meow, growl, hiss, or purr it. These are kids books written by a committee, so I’m not exactly expecting graceful prose, but something other than “said” for every utterance in dialog heavy books is very jarring.
“Puissance” is the French equivalent to “Dominion”:
“Dominion of Canada” = “Puissance du Canada”
I first encountered it in Clive Barker\s Weaveworld.
I read Pat Conroy’s “The Prince of Tides” decades ago.
My only memory of it is how frequently he used the word “feckless”.
mmm
I loaned a Sue Grafton book to someone and they mentioned the frequent use of “tucked”. Now when I read her books I can’t read it without noticing all of uses of the word.
I can never see “congeries” without a momentary conflation with “conures”, a type of small parrot.
It’s always a congerie of conures.
You’re welcome. 
Donaldson must have heard the criticism about his use of rare and exotic words, as in his most recent series, The Great God’s War, he appears to have cut back on this habit by over 90%.
I’m actually a bit saddened. It was fun for me to expand my vocabulary by looking up all those words on my Kindle dictionary.
R. L. Stine’s Goosebumps chapter books are probably the only works in children’s literature where readers will encounter the strong past tense form of “stride”. Stine’s characters apparently “strode” all over the place.
“Strode” is either a pet word or some kind of inside joke with his editors.
I hadn’t realized it until I listened to his books on audio, but Robert Heinlein was very fond of having characters begin a line with “So?” It doesn’t sound like much, but when you hear it repeatedly, rather than reading it, it begins to grate on the ears.
He’s using it as a sort of abbreviation for “So what?” or “Is that so?” or other common phrase. I realize that he’s trying to give the dialogue a feel of verisimilitude, but people don’t use it as often as he has them doing it. It comes off as snide, rather than colloquial.
Did he maybe get a ‘co-writer’, who actually writes his entire novels these days, the way James Patterson is able to crank out 1000 books a year with his army of co-writers?
Co-writers are usually credited, though. Maybe a ghostwriter…?
I rather doubt it, there’s no mention of a co-author. And otherwise it’s pretty much his style.
I wonder how much that’s a matter of changing tastes over time? A lot of his stuff dates from the 70s and before, if not the 1950s. Which is, wow, 50-70(!) years ago now. I can hear my parents using “So?” non-snidely when I was young.
Nowadays I agree 100% that it definitely carries a lot more snide than it does colloquial.
Regarding the Thomas Covenant books, the annoying repetition for me was “Don’t touch me. I’m a leper.” YES WE GET IT! JESUS!
Leper! Outcast unclean!
IIRC, Alistair Maclean was quite fond of the expressions safe as houses and a mere bagatelle.
In the entire Harry Potter series, did Rowling once mention Crookshanks (Hermione’s cat) without also describing its bottlebrush tail?
Bosch nodded, even though he knew _____ couldn’t see him. Seems like Connelly did that once in every novel, but I’m probably exaggerating.
In Harry Turtledove novels, tanks don’t explode, they “brew up.” Like it’s a giant armored pot of coffee.
The sudden overuse of the word ‘gross’ to describe anything you don’t like.
“That die roll was gross.”
“Our defense is playing gross.”
I remember that, from the 2 Donaldson books I trudged through. Unlike Qadgop and others, I loathed, loathed, LOATHED the Donaldson books. But the crazy vocabulary (most of which I understood, I think… it’s been 40 years…) was pretty memorable.
There is a series of books by Drew Hayes, centered around a group of college students with superpowers (in a formal Heroes Certification major). The storytelling is good - if a bit long-winded - but the man needs an editor.
“blah blah”, John said.
“Blah blah blah?” Jane questioned.
“Blah blah” George surmised.
“Surmised” was a favorite, and was rarely even appropriate. But in general, the text follows the form “dialog” person verb, as shown above.
His “Fred the Vampire Accountant” stories do not suffer from this. I don’t know if it’s an artifact of them being told in the first person, or he got an editor, or simply that he’d learned a bit more of the craft.