I’m halfway through a bestselling novel — #3 in this week’s NYTimes rankings — and have lost count of the number of times a character “hisses” a line of dialogue with no sibilants. There is no linguistic universe in which “Come here, mama” can be “hissed.”

And while I’m picking on this particular work of fiction: Flames aren’t reflected in the whites of a human’s eyes. They’re reflected in the irises.