"I could see the love in his/her eyes."

But you can see sadness, right? Remnants of exhaustion, evasiveness, and indications of sexual readiness (isn't that evocative phrasing) can all be indicated right there from the eyeball on out, without facial muscles being required (although they certainly can contribute).

But you can see sadness, right? Remnants of exhaustion, evasiveness, and indications of sexual readiness (isn't that evocative phrasing) can all be indicated right there from the eyeball on out, without facial muscles being required (although they certainly can contribute).

Yes. But her point is, the eyeballs themselves are not magical receptors or receptacles for love, sadness, etc; what you're seeing is a concerted effect that comes from muscle usage.

Her dislike is aimed squarely at the idea that someone's eyeballs can express love or hate or desire, just by being there.

I disagree on the sexual desire thing, hugely. I've been told that my eyes change colour slightly under those circs; they go from muddy green to very bright green.

Her dislike is aimed squarely at the idea that someone's eyeballs can express love or hate or desire, just by being there.

If someone told me that my eyeballs were showing them emotion, I'd be a little grossed out. But I've never seen that in fiction (good editors? dunno). But the dictionary is happy to have a defintion of eye as "The external, visible portion of this organ together with its associated structures, especially the eyelids, eyelashes, and eyebrows." and I've never placed eye makeup on my eyeball.

So she's striking me as overly and needlessly literal. Campaign for the reassignment of "eye" to the meaning of "eyeball," but you gotta admit -- that horse will need some chasing, since it's well free of the barn.

So she's striking me as overly and needlessly literal. Campaign for the reassignment of "eye" to the meaning of "eyeball," but you gotta admit -- that horse will need some chasing, since it's well free of the barn.

See, I have seen it in fiction. "She looked at him with love in her eyes." "She had an outraged look in her eyes."

I've nowhere seen "Her eyeballs reflected her outrage." So I suspect Ruth figures that, since it's completely writers she's telling about it, said writers will know what she means.

See, I have seen it in fiction. "She looked at him with love in her eyes." "She had an outraged look in her eyes."

I think I'm totally confused -- are you saying that those usages are wrong? I think they may be sloppy or easy, but as long as no one's looking at me with love in their eyeballs, I'm not going to be objecting to it by rote.

Oh, a last-thought kind of thing, on the "typos in first draft" deal: I spell-check the entire novel when it's done. The spell checker in Word is slow and cumbersome; there's also the British usage issue.

So I save it for just before I'm ready to print and submit. If my beta readers pick up a typo when they edit and tell me, I'll fix it then, but I don't worry about it until I'm ready to send to my agent or editor.

Oh, ita, insent. Forgot to say.

are you saying that those usages are wrong?

I'm not. She is. At age 86, she says the human eye is not a magic receptacle or a carnival mirror, and doesn't show anything without at least some portion of the facial muscles kicking in.

How does she explain pupil dilation?

(Y'all have no idea how excited I am that there might actually be a market for my book. I'm dancing, here. Dancing quietly, since Annabel is napping, but dancing all the same.)