I am currently reading All the Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr. I'm a little more than a hundred pages into it. As its central characters, the novel has a blind girl living in France and an orphan boy living in Germany. The boy is being groomed by the Nazis because of his genius when it comes to radios and anything else his mind grasps. Somehow the two are going to connect... I'm not sure how.
It's slow reading because I'm savoring the lines. Doerr writes prose like a poet. The images, the lines--they're so well crafted, and if the reader rushes, some gems will be overlooked.
Ray Bradbury's Dandelion Wine is like that as well. I could just imagine Bradbury--like a diamond cutter--turning each phrase this way and that way, chipping away bits until the brilliance of his words was allowed to shine. Don't we all want that as writers and what we all hope for as readers? Don't we all love when the words just drip off the page and flash their brilliance?
What is a fine line or phrase you've encountered (or crafted) recently? A writerly mind wants to know...