Saturday, October 12, 2013

Save-a-Word Saturday

Welcome to Save-a-Word Saturday!
Join us as we spread our love of old and unusual words by sharing them with other bloggers and thereby saving them from the oldest, least-visited vaults of the Word Bank.

<a href="" target="_self"><img src="" alt="Save-a-Word Saturday" width="251" height="251" /></a>

The rules run thusly:

1. Create a lovely blog post that links back to this one. The easiest way to do that would be to grab the code under our pretty Save-a-Word Saturday button. Just copy and paste it into the HTML part of your blog.

2. Pick an old word you want to save from extinction to feature in your blog post. It really must be an old word, not just a big one. We are trying to save lovely archaisms, not ugly giants (for example, "Dihydrogen Monoxide" is not an acceptable choice). Luciferous Logolepsy is a great database of lovely words if you're having trouble coming up with something on your own.

3. Provide a definition of your word. Use your word in a sentence (or even a short paragraph) vaguely related to the theme we have chosen this week. You may also add visual or musical interpretations of your word or your sentence. In fact, add anything that moves your creative spirit.

4. Add your post to the linky list below (it's down there somewhere). Then hop to as many other blogs as you can in search of as many wonderful words as possible!

5. Be a hero by using the words in your everyday life--that is how they will really be saved!  Do leave us a note or add something to your own post to let us all know what wonderful old word you whipped out to befuddle your friends and relations.


This week's theme is:  fall leaves.  

Our word:

victless, adj.
lacking food; hungry; starved

And our sentences, which may or may not be based upon real life: 

        "Look at the poor, victless squirrels," said Tyler-Rose, watching the animals take flying leaps at a bird feeder covered in fall leaves.
        "They're not starving; look how fat they are.  Also, I think I just spoke a semicolon."  Susan peered out the window, watching brown leaves fall like dry words composed late on a Friday.  "Even if this were the conversation we had in reality once, and it was winter, they would still probably be doing alright." 


And that, my friends, is, I fear, the worst thing that has ever been done with the autumn leaves metaphor.  Please see Homer, Vergil, Dante, and Milton for some considerably more profound instances of its use. 

Next week's theme is . . . chandeliers

1 comment:

  1. That, I gasp through spasms of internal laughter, was most entertaining. Trust a story's comic self-awareness to leave me tickled. XD