Tag Archives: literary crisis

Lost And Found Sentences

So I’ve finally succumbed and joined the Twitter army (@bryanhilson, if you care to follow me). In the spirit of having enough content to throw against the virtual wall–if you don’t tweet several times a day you might as well not exist–I’ve come up with a new service for writers and non-writers alike.

Lost & Found Sentences is just that, a repository of sentences people have lost or purposely left behind, and that I’ve had the good fortune to have found lying in the street, an elevator, a parking lot, on the bottom of my shoe,  and engraved in the stake I used recently to kill a vampire. The point of collecting and sharing these sentences on Twitter is to let people know the words are there if they’ve lost them, or if perhaps they might be in need of a sentence for a project they’re writing or a conversation they’re having. Sometimes the right words strung together escape us in the moments we need them most, and so I think it’s nice to have a place where people can go in moments of literary or linguistic crisis.

The idea is to not only post the sentences on Twitter but to also house them here on the blog for people to search through and take, if any suit their needs. And of course once you’ve taken ownership of a sentence you have the right to modify it as you see fit. However, if you do choose to take a sentence from the collection I ask that you replace it with one that you’ve found. Don’t worry, sentences are everywhere; people can be a bit careless with them and you’ll be surprised where you find them once you start looking.

CURRENT SENTENCES IN THE LOST AND FOUND (Need a sentence-take-a-sentence-take-a-sentence-leave-a-sentence):

She’d let him keep the cat but not the dog; the dog would live and knew too much.

When Mister Bag starts to argue with you, that’s when it’s time to worry.

Your fingers are your own problem, Clarabelle.

We clean our own coats in this house; blood, bone and all.

He had a funny feeling the drool dangling from his lip wasn’t his.

They threw the hindquarters to the silent majority in their cages.