A Dog's Eye: clutching at straws

I find myself of late, for a couple of months now actually, without anything much to say. Time has not been the issue. Desire has. In terms of my writing, I have felt uninspired.

Thankfully, I am not troubled by this. Every now and then, I think about opening my WIP file, chasing up all the beta readers who let me down, pushing my published works, beginning something new, banging out a short story, or disseminating some pithy piece of commentary here on Square Pegs. However, these are mere blips on the radar of my life these days.

True, my new job has forced a routine change, but so has more discipline re gym visits, and also the necessity of watching as much cricket as I can.

Waffle. Waffle. One of dad's favourite words. Miss you Dad! Speaking of favourite words...here are three* that have struck me recently. Polar Vortex, Extra** and Banana Freckle. First, an extreme weather event, then a brand of chewing gum which appropriately sponsors cricket umpires, and lastly a fruit disease which has only just been eradicated in the Northern Territory after a five year battle.

And with that overly long previous sentence and this one beginning ungrammatically with "and", I sign off until next time the capricious wind of muse blows.

*five words in fact

** Extra is a brand of chewing gum made by Wrigley, but in cricket is refers to runs awarded to the batting team when the batsman has not hit the ball. For example, wides, no balls and byes.

Celebrate the Small Things: Words

Today's blog is brought to you by the letter 'F'. (Hats off to Sesame Street - what a great show!) In the A-Z Blogging Challenge, each day began with a letter and the opportunity to choose any word beginning with that letter, or any theme, and write about it.

In language, the smallest units are called graphemes, and these combine to make phonemes which in turn unite to form morphemes, and morphemes collaborate to form words. And words, as we know, are put together in such a way as to communicate a meaningful message which we call a sentence. It's beautiful, isn't it?

Most people take words for granted. Not me. I love them. I like playing with them, using them, and discovering new ones. I love putting them together. I get excited when I hear or read others do it well. I feel proud when I do it.

Yesterday I wrote another chapter in the first draft of what will be my fifth novel. Chapter 37 contains these words: Did she love Angus? Did she want him back? Forgiveness. Easy to say, hard to do. Nice word. Potent word. Terrifying word. The last adjective in that triplet did not come to me immediately, but when it did, I stared at it with a big smile on my face. Forgiveness is a terrifying word.

Today I give thanks for words. Do you have any favourites? I still get a thrill when I hear someone say pulchritude.

I'm back in business

A thousand words yesterday afternoon, and another five hundred this morning. The words flow, and I am back in business. Feels good to be moving again. Feels good to be imagining characters and situations, inventing drama, creating conflict. I am a writer.

W.A.S. II

Don't worry. I'm not going to number them all. That would be ridiculous, even though I have been known to behave in a ludicrous fashion. Nothing so preposterous here as to seek to number all my Writing Activity Statements. I simply want to make the point that W.A.S. is a series and apparently series sell. Numerous times during the submissions phase of A Muddy Red River's development was I asked whether it was part of a series.

Readers seem to like to read about the same character, doing the same basic thing in a variety of settings or situations. I might say more about book series another time but this is a W.A.S.

3200 words were added to the first draft of my W.I.P. on Saturday which I was very pleased with considering the circumstances which led me to write yesterday's post about boxes. I'll be attempting to close a few boxes today and store them away. What do you have planned?

Progress

I wrote approximately two thousand words yesterday. Not impressive at all, although I did also do quite a bit of planning and organising. I decided for example, that this book will probably need to be in two parts, so I wrote the last chapter with a teasing end. Furthermore, through much contemplation, I developed a stronger sense of the heart of this book. It will be my best so far.

Add to the above, four stories submitted to writing competitions, a wad of administrative tasks completed, and a little housework, and I'm going to call yesterday a success. How was your day?

H is for Hurt

“I’m sorry I wasn’t enough for you.”

There was no humor in her voice but he hoped she was joking. Surely, she couldn’t be hurt by his hunger. Julia wouldn’t meet his eyes, so he pulled her tight against him. Her rigidity melted quickly in David’s strong embrace.”

-          Loathe Your Neighbor ch. 17

Many years ago, I spent some time with an awesome bunch of people when I did two schools and two tours with YWAM, (Youth With A Mission). My friends and I had an in joke which I won’t attempt to explain. The tag line was ‘that really hurt me dude’. It was said in a mock emotionally injured tone. A joke. As I think about that neat little slice of esotericism, I am reminded of Proverbs 26:18 & 19 which says, ‘Like a maniac who throws firebrands, arrows and death is the man who deceives his neighbor and says “I am only joking.” We say a lot of hurtful things to each other for the sake of a laugh, and most of it is probably water off a duck’s back. If a ‘put down’ culture exists then those within that culture know the rules. However, I think  people tend to underestimate the power of their words to injure people. Even, if only as a result of a misunderstanding, words can be deadly. Those who have been burned by the cruel words of
others are especially vulnerable to the attack of a maniac who throws firebrands. Do your words give life to others?

Wetting the Towel that Dries You

Original sayings are as rare as hen's teeth theses days. It says in Ecclesiastes there is nothing new under the sun, and who can deny it? Words are repackaged and reworked but at the end of the day, the song remains the same. Soon we will all hear the mother of all cliches, the straw that breaks the camel's back in terms of our ability to endure tired old adages.

Many hands make light work but too many cooks can sometimes spoil the broth especially if there are more chiefs than indians, so if a stitch in time saves nine, it is high time this plague of aphorisms was nipped in the bud. Maybe the horse has already bolted and although we may be able to lead it to the freshwater of originality, we may not be able to make it drink.

There is apparently a cute little platitude for every experience and situation, but we've heard it all before. We should all pull up our socks and dig deep to unearth some new maxims with meaning. Maybe we could scrape the bottom of the barrel and see if there is any light at the end of this tunnel of torpid tale telling. At the very least we should tighten our belts and avoid verbal extravagance.

However, what we should not do is wet the towel that dries us, that is to say we should not throw out the baby with the bathwater or bite the hand that feeds us. That would be madness. We need words to communicate. Words have power. The pen is mightier than the sword. James talks about the restless evil that is the tongue and he tells us to be slow to speak and quick to listen. Be wise with your words.

Here is a trustworthy saying which rises above the pack, and deserves full acceptance: 'Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners-of whom I am the worst.' (1 Timothy 1:15)