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It All Comes Down to This

  by Therese Anne Fowler

(about 443 pages)
total words
of all the books in our library
of all the books in our library
passive voice
of all the books in our library
all adverbs
of all the books in our library
of all the books in our library
of all the books in our library

clippings from this book

We’ve analyzed hundreds of millions of words, from thousands of different authors, training our linguistic models to recognize the most vivid words in the English language… the words that create the most intense sensory experiences: colors, textures, sounds, flavors, and aromas.

Based on our analysis, we’ve scanned through the pages of this book to find the two pages at the extremes, both the most-passive and the most-vivid pages, so that you can compare them side-by-side and see the difference:

I know there’s more. I know you. Well—maybe I don’t! But I know this. What else? Whatever it is, you have to just say it.” “There’s nothing else.” Her voice softened. “Come on, Paul. You’re lying.” “All right. There is. But I can’t…” “Then why did you bother to come up here? This could have waited until I got home.” “I didn’t know when you’d be coming home. If you’d be coming home.” She went about setting the table. “Sodid you just never find me very attractive?” “Beck. I think you’re beautiful. That has nothing to do with anything.” “Was I difficult to live with?” “Not at all.” “That’s definitely a lie.” “We’ve had a pretty harmonious life together. You aren’t a difficult person.” “What I’m getting at,” Beck said, “is that I’m confused about the sex part. You sometimes seemed … not reluctant, exactly, but tentative. Like you weren’t always sure you wanted to be doing what we were doing.” “I was concerned that you weren’t really enjoying it.” “Why didn’t you say something?” “Why didn’t you say something?” “I didn’t want you to feel judged!” she said. “It wasn’t like we were terrible at it. When you were with the other women, were you tentative?” “Not really. Not after I got over how weird it was.” “So you never got over that with me.” “What? No, it wasn’t like that. I didn’t figure out until later that—” Paul stopped. He’d been about to say that it was mountainous land, in love with the mountains—quite modest by standards like the Rockies and the Alps, but mountains nonetheless. In love with Acadia, its almost-tamed wilderness, its stony, picturesque, well-worn trails. The visiting adults loved to gather for regattas, for clam and lobster bakes, the men freed of suits and hats, the women in sleeveless sundresses, naked shoulders draped with fine cotton sweaters. Those slim cigarettes. Sandaled feet. Alfresco dining. They all wanted to be Italian; more specifically, Roman, or at least in Rome; to be Audrey Hepburns with their Gregory Pecks. Children chasing one another along rocky beaches and clipped lawns, running races, collecting stones, catching frogs, building forts in the woods. Summertime as an ideal realized, delivered to them whole cloth via generous salaries or generous relatives’ trust funds and wills. That was not Marti’s life. On this day, two weeks or so after her eighteenth birthday, she was no longer thinking about cute young men living la bella vita when she encountered a group on the steep trail that would take her down from the Beehive summit to Sand Beach. This being Wednesday, and early (she’d made summit at daybreak), she’d hoped not to encounter any tourists at all, at least not before she was off the mountain and on the beach again. She’d wanted sweeping, soul-cleansing views of granite and fog and trees and water. Wanted solitude. Birdsong. Sun catching the dew on pine needles, glinting off the sapphire water, lighting the shallows turquoise blue

emotional story arc

Click anywhere on the chart to see the most significant emotional words — both positive & negative — from the corresponding section of the text…
This chart visualizes the the shifting emotional balance for the arc of this story, based on the emotional strength of the words in the prose, using techniques pioneered by the UVM Computational Story Lab. To create this story arc, we divided the complete manuscript text into 50 equal-sized chunks, each with 2215.80 words, and then we scored each section by counting the number of strongly-emotional words, both positive and negative. The bars in the chart move downward whenever there’s conflict and sadness, and they move upward when conflicts are resolved, or when the characters are happy and content. The size of each bar represents the positive or negative word-count of that section.

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