Finally there’s a word for it: Fidgital—excessively checking one’s devices. Martyrmony—staying married out of duty. Author of the highly popular “That Should Be a Word” feature in the New York Times Magazine, Lizzie Skurnick delights word lovers with razor-sharp social commentary delivered via clever neologisms. That Should Be a Word is a compendium of 244 of Skurnick’s wittiest wordplays—more than half of them new—arranged in ingenious diagrams detailing their interrelationships. Complete with definitions, pronunciations, usage examples, and illustrations, That Should Be a Word features words on our obsession with food: carbiter—one who asserts that someone else cannot be hungry. On social media, like twiticule—to mock someone in 140 characters. On the modern family, like brattle—to discuss one’s children at great length, which leads to words like spamily—Facebook or Twitter updates about kids—and spawntourage—a group of approaching strollers. From highlighting the profound financial anxiety of a post-recession society (bangst) to mocking the hyper-vain celebrity circle that abstains from anything of import (celebracy), That Should Be a Word delves deep into all the most humorous, and maddening, aspects of life in the 21st century.
Remember that book you read at that time in your life when everything seemed to be going crazy—the one book that brought the world into focus and helped soothe your raging teenage angst?
These empowering essays from leading women writers examine the power of the gendered language that is used to diminish women -- and imagine a more liberated world. Words matter. They wound, they inflate, they define, they demean. They have nuance and power. "Effortless," "Sassy," "Ambitious," "Aggressive": What subtle digs and sneaky implications are conveyed when women are described with words like these? Words are made into weapons, warnings, praise, and blame, bearing an outsized influence on women's lives -- to say nothing of our moods. No one knows this better than Lizzie Skurnick, writer of the New York Times' column "That Should be A Word"and a veritable queen of cultural coinage. And in Pretty Bitches, Skurnick has rounded up a group of powerhouse women writers to take on the hidden meanings of these words, and how they can limit our worlds -- or liberate them. From Laura Lipmann and Meg Wolizer to Jennifer Weiner and Rebecca Traister, each writer uses her word as a vehicle for memoir, cultural commentary, critique, or all three. Spanning the street, the bedroom, the voting booth, and the workplace, these simple words have huge stories behind them -- stories it's time to examine, re-imagine, and change.
From Ebony’s journal: My identical twin sister and I are total opposites. Meaning, I’m way popular and she’s so not. How is this possible? I’m friendly, flirty, and don’t spend every second buried in a textbook. She’s Miss Mathematics (and Miss Headband–hello?–of Hughley High). But here’s what’s really weird: I’m sweating Mr. Mathematics (he’s new). So if I could just borrow her identity and headband for a few days. . . .
Michael Vaughn has some tough shoes to fill when he takes over for his deceased father as an agent in the CIA, but in no way does he expect the difficulties that lie ahead.
Finally there’s a word for it: Fidgital—excessively checking one’s devices. Martyrmony—staying married out of duty. Author of the highly popular “That Should Be a Word” feature in the New York Times Magazine, Lizzie Skurnick delights word lovers with razor-sharp social commentary delivered via clever neologisms. That Should Be a Word is a compendium of 244 of Skurnick’s wittiest wordplays—more than half of them new—arranged in ingenious diagrams detailing their interrelationships. Complete with definitions, pronunciations, usage examples, and illustrations, That Should Be a Word features words on our obsession with food: carbiter—one who asserts that someone else cannot be hungry. On social media, like twiticule—to mock someone in 140 characters. On the modern family, like brattle—to discuss one’s children at great length, which leads to words like spamily—Facebook or Twitter updates about kids—and spawntourage—a group of approaching strollers. From highlighting the profound financial anxiety of a post-recession society (bangst) to mocking the hyper-vain celebrity circle that abstains from anything of import (celebracy), That Should Be a Word delves deep into all the most humorous, and maddening, aspects of life in the 21st century.
These empowering essays from leading women writers examine the power of the gendered language that is used to diminish women -- and imagine a more liberated world. Words matter. They wound, they inflate, they define, they demean. They have nuance and power. "Effortless," "Sassy," "Ambitious," "Aggressive": What subtle digs and sneaky implications are conveyed when women are described with words like these? Words are made into weapons, warnings, praise, and blame, bearing an outsized influence on women's lives -- to say nothing of our moods. No one knows this better than Lizzie Skurnick, writer of the New York Times' column "That Should be A Word"and a veritable queen of cultural coinage. And in Pretty Bitches, Skurnick has rounded up a group of powerhouse women writers to take on the hidden meanings of these words, and how they can limit our worlds -- or liberate them. From Laura Lipmann and Meg Wolizer to Jennifer Weiner and Rebecca Traister, each writer uses her word as a vehicle for memoir, cultural commentary, critique, or all three. Spanning the street, the bedroom, the voting booth, and the workplace, these simple words have huge stories behind them -- stories it's time to examine, re-imagine, and change.
Michael Vaughn has some tough shoes to fill when he takes over for his deceased father as an agent in the CIA, but in no way does he expect the difficulties that lie ahead.
From Ebony’s journal: My identical twin sister and I are total opposites. Meaning, I’m way popular and she’s so not. How is this possible? I’m friendly, flirty, and don’t spend every second buried in a textbook. She’s Miss Mathematics (and Miss Headband–hello?–of Hughley High). But here’s what’s really weird: I’m sweating Mr. Mathematics (he’s new). So if I could just borrow her identity and headband for a few days. . . .
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