She: Finally. I’ve posted.

He: Great work as usual, love. But, you know, since you’re always insisting on celebrating 19th-century writers …

She: Huh?

He: … wouldn’t it be simple fairness, every once in awhile, to say that you’ve melvilled? Or hawthorned? Or even that you’ve done something austentatious?

She: What are you talking about?!?

He: Instead of always saying that you’ve Poe-sted? Not that he wasn’t a great writer, mind you, but his range was a bit limited. All macabre, all the time. And a fat lot of good it did him; he hardly ever made enough money with his writing to buy dinner. An early Victorian blogger, he was. And you know what they called a hungry Poe, don’t you?

She: No, and I …

He: Raven-ous.

She: And do you know what they call punny amoebae?

He: No, and I …

She: Extirpated!