This is my attempt at a series where I use random excerpts from the Age of Scorpius to identify incorrect word use and, more importantly, explain why they are incorrect.
The flaws in AoS's world-building, plot construction, characters etc., are glaring and need to be fixed, but what elevates AoS from "bad BookTok pick" to "unreadable" is its grammar and lexicon. It's not just the words that are used incorrectly: it's also the commonly known words and phrases that are NOT used. Instead, Milo crafts these strange, over-prepositioned fragments that blur the line between bad word choices and bad grammar.
The thing is, it's really hard to explain exactly why these words are misused. For example, Milo uses the phrase "a dim throb" several times. The word "dim" is used to describe light; it is not used to describe pain. The correct phrase is "a dull throb". But if you try to explain why, the reason is just "Because that's how it goes: you use dim for light and dull for pain."
(There are writers who use adjectives in unusual pairings like this - GNU Sir Terry - but let's walk before we run, eh?)
This series is my attempt at articulating what is normally subconscious or instinctive when it comes to understanding how to use words.
Disclaimer: these explanations are based on my personal experience as a native English language speaker from the US who believes that explaining a joke can make it funnier (that's the kind of nerd you're dealing with here). Connotations and associated imagery will vary from region to region and differ even more among people who know English but don't conduct their lives in that language.
I am very much a person who acquired most of their vocabulary via reading: mostly traditionally published fiction until I went to college, at which point my reading material became more non-fiction and social science theory.
I will not be using grammatical terms more advanced than "subject/object" and "noun/verb/adjective" etc. I was not an English major, and I don't feel like looking up whether or not I'm accurately using the word "participle".
There will be instances where the words I've identified as "wrong" can be used that way in really specific circumstances. I think we can all agree that this author does not have the skill to do that.
With that being said, let's start with the opening to Chapter 11:
Chapter 11, opening paragraphs
I've highlighted the words/phrases I am addressing here (yes, I know there are more examples on this page. Please have mercy: I've already written 1600 words on six mistakes).
Example 1: "browned"
The grassy plains were never ending, an up and down of browned hills for as long as I could see, speckled with fresh snowfall.
[I just noticed the phrase "as long as I could see". The correct phrase is "as far as I could see". "Long" is used to describe dimension, not distance. Isn't that the same thing? Nope! Length describes the size (both physical and temporal) of an object; distance is the space between objects.]
"Brown" as a verb means a process of heating/cooking something until it turns brown, AND it implies the existence of an actor that is performing this. In this sentence, I see the phrase "browned hills" and think "Browned by what? What browned these hills?"
I understand what Milo meant here: it's winter, and the plant cover on these hills is brown instead of green. That's just not the right word. In fact, if he just said "brown hills", that would be perfectly fine!
Hey! But we know what made the hills brown: it's the natural life cycle of plants. Doesn't that count?
It could. But "brown" as a verb specifically indicates heat. Even when talking about, say, bagged lettuce, I would say "that lettuce is going brown", using "brown" as a pure adjective. Not "that lettuce is browning" (though that is something I have heard ESL speakers say).
Example 2: "spur"
I let it sit in the back of my head, pondering on why the simple interaction as a kid felt like it meant more, why it caused a spur of light to fiercely activate in my veins.
I would appreciate it if Rieka never talked about her veins ever again. Dear god. You know there are other things in your body? Bones, nerves, skin? Ffs she doesn't even mention blood unless it's "hued" her clothes.
That’s not how you use the word “spur”. Spur (when it’s not referring to the thing on the heels of cowboy boots) means a growth or a protrusion - usually spiky or prickly in some way - that branches off a central trunk or limb. So if there is a "spur of light", that would mean there's some kind of larger narrow light object from which a piece has become a spur.
I actually have no clue what Milo is trying to say here. If he meant to describe that the memory was sticking in his mind, he probably meant "burr". But then we come to the phrase that the light was "activating fiercely" in Rieka's veins, and I'm back to being entirely lost. Especially because nothing happens in the following sentences: nothing is activated.
Example 3: "Societal's township"
I'd heard rumors about Societal's township...
This is such a weird way to mention Lyra without using its name again. It's like if I got sick of saying San Francisco and said "the Bay Area's City". You can just say "the township" or "the town". In fact, because Lyra is named in the previous sentence, the whole phrase can be replaced with the pronoun "it". If using the word "it" feels like Rieka is downplaying what she's heard about Lyra, you could also use other phrases: "this place", "this town", etc. Using "Societal's township" implies that a) there is only one township in Societal and b) Societal is quite small because it only has one township.
Example 4: "compare"
I'd heard the rumors about Societal's township, but nothing would compare to my first look of a new world with vibrant colors and chiming voices.
After a second look, I think I'd categorize this as a grammar mistake instead of a word choice error. Actually, it's more like a dozen grammar and word choice mistakes in a trench coat. Explaining any one issue would require explaining three other issues, so I'll just include how I would write this sentence (with minimal changes to its contents):
I'd heard rumors about this place, but nothing could have prepared me for how vibrant it was, especially compared to The Hub.
Example 5: "circumventing"
The sidewalks were made of colorful stone bricks circumventing in various directions, spirals of weaving hues mimicking the flow of magic.
This sentence makes me want to throw up.
I know what Milo is trying to describe: the sidewalks are colorful, and the colors are arranged in a spiraling pattern.
What Milo has actually described: the sidewalks are colorful and spiraling in random directions
(me, the reader: If the sidewalk is made from colorful bricks, and the colors are spirals, does that mean the sidewalks are spirals? Where do these sidewalks go? I don’t even know which way the Quizno’s is!)
But to return to my original point:
That’s not what circumventing means. It’s just not.
Well, if you look it up in a dictionary you’ll see-
Yes, “to circumvent” literally means “to go around”. But a) by “go around”, it doesn’t mean “wander”: it means “divert from the original path due to an obstacle in the way” and b) “circumvent” almost always refers to getting around an abstract obstacle, like rules or regulations. And it always implies that there is an object that needs to be circumventED.
Example 6: "lumbering" (specifically in context)
In the distance was a lumbering castle, seemingly tiny from where we stood.
I've seen people criticize this specific sentence elsewhere because "castles don't move, so castles can't lumber". I'm actually fine with that. In fact, I think lumbering is a great word to use to describe a castle that looms over the landscape, imposing a heavy presence over all of its surroundings. It doesn't have to move; the characters can feel it watching them, like it's following them around the town.
"Lumbering" means to walk in a heavy and unsteady manner. Giants lumber. Bears lumber. People without proficiency in heavy armor lumber. The heaviness is a key component of lumbering. If you want to use it to describe something that is NOT moving, it needs to be big. It needs to be so big that it feels like it's moving even when it isn't.
If the castle is "seemingly tiny", then it's not lumbering.
Also, we never talk about this castle again. Are there castles in Gardian? Wouldn't the Hub have a castle?
Now I'm thinking about how this book would be 50% better if there were just more castles. Castles everywhere.
Conclusion:
Do you see how fucking long this post is? Do you remember how when people told him "the word is uninhabitable, not inhabitable", Milo pointed to an archaic dictionary definition to argue? Can you imagine having to break down every single one of these errors like this to convince him to accept edits?
These are problems that can only be solved by improving his internal lexicon (or by only writing with words that he actually uses in his everyday life, but then how would we know he's a master of his craft?!). The only way to gain an instinctual understanding of connotations, sentence structure, and other components of how to communicate via the written word is to READ. And not just anything! You need to read works that are a) written in complete paragraphs and b) reviewed and edited by someone who is NOT the author.
Yes, unconventional author styles exist. Yes, using words in unexpected contexts can create great images and moments. But you've got to know that that's what you're doing. You can't word vomit on a page and call it abstract art.
oh i love an amnesia fic if you wanna talk about that one !
yayyy joemarr amnesia!!!!
list of wips
ok so you know how there's like febuwhump & kinktober? i was like. okay...what about angst august? i think that could be a fun thing, and i'm sure that it's probably is a thing but anyway!! i don't really write angst so i thought i would write something for angst august....
and joemarr is fated and has all this history so i figured i would be able to cook something up. but totally blanked on the plot and didn't really know what to write about honestly. and then (thank you spotify shuffle) this came along and well. the whole song basically. but these lyrics specifically:
i think you buried me
with every memory
under the ground
so BANG! amnesia.
and roughly this is what i kinda had in my head (a bit fragmented):
Ja’Marr wakes to pain. His head feels like it's full of static — dull pressure at the base of his skull, a muted ache every time his heart beats. The light above is too bright, even through his eyelids, and his mouth feels dry.
He’s still trying to make sense of the noise when a hand slides over his wrist — warm, steady.
"Joe?"
And he’s there, leaning over him, pale eyes cutting through the blur. He’s close enough that Ja’Marr can see the fine tension in his jaw, the bruised hollows under his eyes. His hair is longer for some reason — unruly and curling over his forehead. The bridge of his nose is tinged pink, the kind of sun-warmed flush that comes from too many hours under an open sky, skin kissed red by heat and carelessness.
Relief hits Joe’s face so hard it almost hurts to look at — his shoulders sag, breath hitching like it’s the first time he’s let himself breathe in hours. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s me.” Joe’s hand slides from Ja’Marr’s wrist up to his palm, his thumb tracing along the inside like he’s checking Ja’Marr’s pulse. His other hand rests on Ja’Marr’s shoulder. Close — too close.
Ja’Marr’s head throbs. He shifts beneath Joe’s touch, trying to sit up, and Joe’s hand slides to the back of his neck, steadying him. “Take it easy,” Joe says.
Ja’Marr frowns. Looks around — white walls, a window letting in dull gray light. The quiet hum of medical equipment in the background. “Hospital?”
“Yeah.”
Joe’s knee starts bouncing — small, rapid movements — and his free hand curls toward his thigh, fingers flexing in and out, in and out. His eyes don’t leave Ja’Marr’s face.
"You got hit," Joe says finally, his voice low. His thumb sweeps over Ja’Marr’s pulse again, grounding. "Hard. You’ve been out for a while."
Ja’Marr’s mouth opens, but the words don’t come. Hit hard? Joe’s knee is still bouncing, his fingers flexing and curling, flexing and curling, and Ja’Marr doesn’t think about it — his hand just moves to press his fingers over the back of Joe’s hand, settling the restless motion beneath his palm.
Joe’s knee stops immediately.
His skin is warm beneath his hand. Ja’Marr twitches, and he pulls away like he’s been burned. Joe’s face stays impassive, but he’s watching Ja’Marr too closely now — eyes too wide, too sharp.
"Ja’Marr?" His voice is soft. Careful.
A pulse of pain blooms sharp behind his eyes, leaving his chest hollow and light in a way that makes his breath thin out. His gaze slips downward, the shape of a tattoo curling along his inner forearm catching at the edge of his vision. The ink is dark and crisp, fresh enough that the edges of it still look sharp beneath the surface of his skin. He knows his tattoos — knows the map of them like the back of his hand — but this is wrong.
New.
He stares at it, mouth dry. The ache behind his eyes sharpens.
His gaze drags back toward Joe. His face is still too tense, too carefully still.
"What…" Ja’Marr’s throat works. "What year is it?"
Joe goes still, the tension in his body shifting as his hand eases back—not far, just enough to leave a gap between them. His knee starts bouncing again, and his mouth opens slightly, like he’s weighing the shape of whatever answer might come next.
"What year do you think it is?" he asks, finally. His voice is soft, but there’s something brittle beneath it.
Ja’Marr’s eyes drift over Joe’s face. He knows Joe. Knows the planes of his jaw, the color of his eyes, the curve of his mouth when he smiles. But there’s an empty feeling where understanding should be.
"Two…" Ja’Marr’s eyes narrow. His tongue feels clumsy in his mouth. "Two thousand…twenty-four?"
Joe’s breath hitches. Squeezes his eyes shut. "Okay," Joe says. His voice is strained but even. Says again, "Okay."
He shifts forward slightly like he’s about to stand, probably to get a doctor or something — and then Ja’Marr catches the glint of something.
A ring.
It catches the light when Joe’s hand flexes toward the side of his thigh. He notices Ja’Marr looking and tucks his hand toward his lap, but Ja’Marr’s already reaching forward, fingers curling around Joe’s wrist.
"Joe."
Joe’s mouth tightens. His hand is still beneath Ja’Marr’s fingers.
"You got married?" Ja’Marr’s voice falters, the words coming out ragged.
"Yeah," Joe says quietly. His voice is shaky. "Yeah, I did."
Ja’Marr’s heart drops. His pulse spikes beneath his skin, a sharp and frantic pressure. His chest feels too small.
"Oh," Ja’Marr says. "That’s…" His mouth twists up. "That’s great."
It’s not.
He feels like he's been scooped hollow. Like someone’s taken a crowbar to the soft parts of him and left the edges raw. His eyes flick down toward Joe’s hand, the band sitting snug against his skin, bright under the light. Married.
And he knows — logically, he knows — that he’s missing something huge here, whole swaths of memory burned out of his brain like dead air. It’s not Joe’s fault. Not like Joe did anything wrong.
"You sure she’s good enough for you?" Ja’Marr keeps going, trying to make light of it, because stopping feels worse, feels too quiet, feels like acknowledging that his chest is pulling tight and that it’s a ridiculous question anyway because of course she’s good enough, Joe wouldn’t have married her if she wasn’t. "Because—"
Joe’s mouth pulls tight — and then he lets out this sharp, thin sound, almost a laugh but not really, not a happy one, more like disbelief bleeding out of him. His head dips for half a second, and Ja’Marr’s ribs pull even tighter because it feels like he’s missing something important, like there’s a joke here he doesn’t get, and Joe’s the only one in on it.
Joe’s hand curls against Ja’Marr’s palm, the tension sharp beneath his skin. "Ja’Marr," he says, voice tight, almost strained.
His head throbs.
It’s sharp this time — deep and splintering, pressing hard behind his eyes until his vision wobbles at the edges. The overhead light feels brighter suddenly, too bright, the edges of the room bleeding into a soft white blur. He breathes in — shallow and fast — and it doesn’t catch deep enough. His hand twitches beneath Joe’s.
"Hey," Joe says, voice tight, shaky, his eyes wider now, scanning Ja’Marr’s face like he’s searching for something. His hand moves up toward Ja’Marr’s forearm, fingers brushing lightly, the touch almost desperate. "Ja’Marr. Breathe."
"I’m —" Ja’Marr’s breath stumbles. The ache behind his eyes spikes, bright and needling. His vision pulls thin at the edges, black creeping inward. "I don’t —"
The monitor spikes.
"Hey," Joe says again, his voice cutting through the noise, sharper now. His hand slides gently to the side of Ja'Marr’s face, cupping it with a tenderness that contrasts with the panic flickering in his eyes, and the other reaches toward the call button. "Ja'Marr, look at me."
Ja'Marr’s eyelids flutter, his eyes slipping shut, the pressure in his chest tightening, almost crushing. It feels like something’s pressing down on his sternum, the air too thick, too heavy to pull in deep enough. His vision blurs, the edges of the room folding in on themselves. The edges of the room are already darkening, the blackness creeping in from every side, smothering him, and he feels himself slipping, like the world is being erased from his mind.
The last thing he registers is Joe’s voice, but it’s too far, too quiet, before the dark finally pulls him under.
ahaha aha so you see what i did there. you see. i guess this is my first marriage fic!! i will say that i'm still iffy on the timeline though to be honest so take everything with a grain of salt. i'm not sure what year this takes place in. and like...i'm not saying they're newlyweds but it's also not like they've been married 20 years. they're not crazy old either (but older), still playing football and for the hell of it i'm saying they've won a superbowl.
also the plot as a whole sort of? still working out the kinks. obviously their relationship (the wedding?? the proposal?? 😵💫😵💫😵💫 dating??) all that jazz that ja'marr does not remember....will be sooooo fun to write. i'm getting ahead of myself considering there's not really anything concrete yet but it makes me sick thinking about them deciding to spending the rest of their lives together....
but definitely a happy ending!!! probably pretty shitty getting there though. being honest i think he would probably get his memories back or most of ‘em rather than it being like 'ohhh he never does but falls in love w him all over again.' idk. i mean either way it's like you kind of do fall in love with him all over again....
ALSO! because i started writing poetry along with my fics for some odd reason. i have these:
these sound so dramatic for no reason 😭😭😭. Anyway.
i did go ahead and add fix you by coldplay (when you lose something you can't replace / when you love someone, but it goes to waste) and the man who can't be moved by the script ('cause if one day you wake up and find that you're missing me / and your heart starts to wonder where on this earth i could be) to the playlist lmfaooo. and also all night by beyonce in a way. sorta kinda. if you guys have any other songs that match the vibe pls do share.
what else what else this probably won’t even be done by august who knowsss 😔
sorry this was very longwinded 😭😭 ty for the ask carmen!! 💖
God I wish my college set up more comfortable waiting benches…. I’m grateful for them being here in the first place, but at the same time my ass is falling asleep and there’s nothing I can do about it.
I have decided to fixate on the fact that N gets defensive when they're at Tina's for dinner and I will be making it a huge deal by making Liz and Nate fight :)
