Read the worst sentence today, revealed to me by my coworker Stan, from Pat Conroy's new book, South of Broad. (Note: Have not read the rest of the book; it may be a literary success...)
It is on the first page of the novel and the narrator is discussing his loyalty to Charleston, South Carolina. Here is the sentence:
"I carry the delicate porcelain beauty of Charleston like the hinged shell of some soft-tissued mollusk. My soul is peninsula-shaped and sun-hardened and river-swollen."
I have many questions about the aptness of comparing the love of place to "soft-tissued mollusks". My soul is probably Mesa-shaped or Rainforest-hardened. Yours is probably Butte-shaped.