spoonerisms

Good morning.

Creative writing seems to include the ability to look at (or listen to) things from a different viewpoint. I don't know if it applies, but at least in my case, listening to words differently seems to spark some creativity. One such source is splassic Coonerism. I clean massic spoonerism. Or lomething sike that.

Spoonerism is, according to wiki, a play on words in which corresponding consonents, vowels, or morphemes are switched. The name comes from the Reverend William Archibald Spooner, who according to legend, was extremely prone to accidently wixing his mords up. Or Mixing his Words up. According to legend, one of his classic spoonerism, recorded by a student in one of his lecture halls, he once raised a toast to our "Queer old Dean" (referring to our dear old Queen.)

Many rev. Spooner quotes are no doubt, post-mortem attributions, setting up a hilarious quote too good to be true. For example, speaking to an audience of young women, he supposedly referred to the painfully hard benches, intending to say 'weary benches' and ended up calling his listeners "Beery Wenches". Cute, and quite probably apocryphal, IMHO. However, let's have fun with this.....

There is a rennaisance faire performer, Terry Foy (under the stage name of Zilch the Tory steller) who bases his act on spoonerisms. He'll take a perfectly normal story and twist the words just so. Without a doubt, he deliberatly selects the phonomes to swap in advance in order to maximize the laughs, but at the rapid rate he tells the tale, one can't tell. He will pause just long enough for you to get the joke, or perhaps try and untangle the words. As a result, you end up with lines such as "'The Prancy Fince', 'Rindercella and her stoo tugly epsisters', or 'Rindercella slopped her dripper right in the piddle of the larking mot". Think about it.

So.... In my next post, I'll see if I can't rewrite a classic tale, spoonerism style. Wish me luck.

PS. For more laugh, see Terry Foy's home page at http://www.torysteller.com/ ,

TTFN,
Jim

Thursday Stuff

Yeesh. Low grade ickyness (technical term) all week finally let go today, though it wasn't until after I left work. In fact, it wasn't until I'd forced myself to get off my duff and go to the YMCA with Irma, about 20 minutes into the stationary bicycle. Suddenly, I noticed, headache gone, no scratchy throat. Veerry Interesting.....

We went to see Stardust at the movies monday. I highly recommend it, a wonderful tale. Similar to Princess Bride in atmosphere. Sorry, kids, no blood or bad words. Some wonderful acting by Robert DeNiro, among others. It's not often Irma and I both say we want to see the movie again, and not just 'when it comes out on DVD'.

Inspiration. The low grade ickyness (technical term) has really sapped my desire to write this week, though I'm feeling more up to it tonight. Looking at Imperfect Hope, one thing I really want to emphasize in the tale is depth of character and setting. Practice exercises will continue to help me hone those skills. (Though Dialogue is another weakness. aww, heck. admit it, everything need work. ((silence, inner critic))) Developing character histories helps with the depth aspect. Setting just takes practice. So here goes.....

Feel free to comment to me. Who knows, I might just learn something.....

TTFN,
Jim

Write Stuff.

Why in the world am I writing this blog anyway?

One reason is to get my writing joices flowing before I start working on a project. The warm-up effect of this seems to be very tangible, I notice that if I spend 15 minutes or so letting thoughts out on the blog, the writing that follows seems to be more concise, rapid, and creative. Probably like a singer who warms up her voice first, or the athelete who stretches his muscles, I'm warming up my writing voice, stretching my style.

It's more than just getting the fingers flowing quickly on the keyboard, though I admit that is a noticeable effect. Changing my left brain/right brain patterns into a more creative mode seems to take 10 minutes or so. Sometimes more, sometimes less, but I can sense when I'm ready. When writing the blog stops being a "write a sentence, pause and think about what to say next" to "write as quickly as my thoughts can be put down". Once I get into that mode, I know I'm ready to fire up the WordPerfect, and...

And What. That's where the modes vary. Sometimes I go straight into writing, open up the chapter I'm working on and just go. Sometimes I reread what I've done so far, and let my mind wrap around if for a while. I"m not sure which method works better for me, but I suspect in time I'll start to favor one over the other. Then I'll know.....

Anyway. Tonight, I'm working on chapter 2. First scene, Introduce the main Antagonist, Min. He's a schemer, a spy, an assassin, and, he works for the emperor. (chorus of boo's and Hisses!) He's the one who has begun putting the pieces of the Emperor's plot into motion.

His character is complex, if it weren't for who he works for, it might be possible to like him. Oh, and he's manipulative. He stays behind the scenes, pulling strings and pushing buttons, and right now, he's got it all in front of him, everything is coming together just as he planned. (Evil laughter). But.... Fate, and Elorna's hand, will place our heroes across his path, and the battle of wits shall begin.....

(Okay, a bit melodramatic. But, the muse is ready... Wish me luck.....)

TTFN,
Jim

Musings

Imperfect Hope, chapter 1 first draft is done. For now. It felt like a milestone to put it behind me, though. Today, I'll start drafting another section of the novel, and I'll probably allow that inner critic loose for a little while on what I've done so far with chapter one. It's screaming to be let loose.

One issue that I've already identified is a bit of confusion as to the viewpoint character. Scene one was easy enough, but scene's 2 and 3 are a bit mixed up, I mostly kept to protagonist #1's viewpoint, but when I reread it lately, I noticed that occasionally I included observations that crept in from protagonist #2. Unless P#1 can read minds, there's no place for swaps like that. So inconsistancies like that will be a priority during rewrites, as well as a focus for ongoing first draft work.

Chapter 2 will start with a different viewpoint again, then switch back to P#1 and P#2. Practice Practice Practice.....

Speaking of practice. My writing exercise from last week. An exercise in Description and Setting. Maybe a bit of mood.....

I leaned against the palm tree and swirled the drink in my hand. The ice sounded dull in the cheap plastic cup, a clatter rather than the melodic clink that sounded when you swirled your scotch in a crystalline glass. At least the scotch was good, even if it wasn't your traditional oceanside tropical drink. The bartender had been scandalized when I insisted a plastic drink umbrella be placed in the scotch. In the last minutes of light from the setting sun, the drink caught the rays, liquid gold and brown and red, all blended together in an autumn colored abstract within the throwaway cup. I smiled, it was a beautiful evening on the gulf-coast beach.

A few dozen yards down the beach, a woman was putting the finishing touches on a sand sculpture. She had been scrambling about in the sand since long before I'd arrived, taking time out only to stand back and study her masterwork. Flurries of frantic digging would follow, dignity forgotten as she crawled around the sculpture, packing and scraping. Children nearby pointed and laughed. From my vantage point, I couldn't tell what she had formed from the sand, but one of the boys suddenly shouted, "An Alligator! Mom, it's an alligator." Further up the beach, one of the watching adults waved in acknowledgement. Finally, the artist stood back, satisfied. One gritty hand swept a loose strand of hair away from her face. I turned my attention back to my task.

Offshore, a yacht bobbed silently at anchor, the crew had taken in sail and dropped anchor shortly after I had taken up my watch over the beach. Nobody moved on deck, though a light showed in the cabin windows, a shadow crossed occasionally. Sea Gulls wheeled over the stern of the yacht, I could hear their high pitched squalling in between the low rumbles of the waves on the beach as the gulls fought over some scraps that had been tossed overboard earlier. I imagined the galley cook had tossed them overboard while readying the dinner, perhaps the catch of the day. Perhaps my contact was on board.

I hadn't been told how my contact was to arrive, perhaps he was waiting for darkness. I listened to the surf sounds more intently, wondering. Was he to swim? Or would he arrive by inflatable zodiac raft. Was he even on the boat? All I had was the note, sent by email the night before. "Arrive Ungers Beach, sunset. Info on Solid Shot. Put an umbrella in your drink, I'll ask if it is 'The Balvenie'. Anyone but you and I'll disappear forever." No name, all attempts to trace the origin of the message ended in failure. Oh. Solid Shot is the codename for the project I'm overseeing for the Navy. So secret, even congress doesn't know what it's about.

So..... Writing fragment turned into practice, turned into..... What.... A story? Who knows.....

TTFN,
Jim

Thursday

Writing is a job. All I have to do is show up for work and do it. Never mind that I may have to wait years for the paycheck. Heh.

Sounds cynical. Sounds too simple. Sounds... Like real life. If all I'm doing is chasing the paycheck, though, why should I change careers. Because it's something I enjoy doing. As opposed to the FAA, which grows onerous at times. Don't get me wrong, most of the time I enjoy my job. I even like a few of the people I work with. Unfortunately, there are quite a few emotional vampires there, people who whine and complain, those who feel the best way to show themselves as great controllers is to show up others, those who put down others who do things correctly. But.... They're in every field, so. Stop whining, Jim.

Writing. The image is that of the solitary type, hunched over the typewriter (keyboard), cigarette in one hand, scotch on the desk in front of him. Exploding into action when something hits him, staring mindlessly at the work most of the rest of the time. Ssshhh. Don't bother the writer, he's busy. Be very very quiet.....

It doesn't work that way for me. For one, the act of trying to be quiet actually draws my attention more than just being around me. I guess a part of me senses someone trying to be "sneaky", and wonders, Why? That pulls me away from what I'm working on. And, I don't smoke, and I won't touch a drink while I'm working, I do admit to keeping my owl mug at my side, filled with ice water or sometimes tea. I do occasionally explode into action, but usually I just grind away. Typing, reading, retyping. Turn to my notes, dig up something... Etc. When I do get into the zone, it may take a small riot to get my attention.

Writing practice... My 2 paragraph exercise over the weekend came out interesting. Non-sci-fi or fantasy genre, it feels more like the opening scene of a spy novel or mystery. More polish down the road.....

Clear skies.

Jim

Writing progress

Time for my weekly(ish) progress report.



Piper on the Hill remains in stasis while I mull over ways to liven up the plot. I still like the overall concept (who didn't like the game version?), but the weakness in the way I was telling the story needs to be addressed.



Imperfect Hope is beginning to pick up steam, I'm finding my voice and have a better sense of who's telling the story, point of view, and twists. Still, I need to pick up the pace of my first draft grinding, and stop letting the inner critic attack my work before I finish the first draft. I'm just about done with the first chapter, with 3 1/4 scenes drafted out. One thing I'm probably going to do is jump around, since I've a pretty well mapped out outline, I can jump ahead to write whatever scene interests me. I'm planning on finishing scene 4,chapter 1 tonight and then I'll pick something fun.....



I"ve done a fair amount of at-work brainstorming on Light House, Light Home. Still looks like a short story project, but one that could easily be expanded into a novel later if the idea proves out. For now, though, the story line is pretty rough.



Writing practice last week, besides this blog, included a paragraph on setting using some semi-random ideas. I'm going to practice rewriting it, as a way of practicing for my rewrites of chapters and novels in the future. I need to work on dialogue and description, I'll probably dig up some work book ideas to practice while on break at the FAA. Let's see if 30 minutes is enough time to turn off the air traffic control mind, be creative for a few paragraphs, and then turn on that atc brain again. progress reports to follow.



The thought for the day:

To fulfill a dream, to be allowed to sweat over lonely labor, to be given the chance to create, is the meat and potatoes of life. The money is the gravy. As everyone else, I love to dunk my crust in it. But alone, it is not a diet designed to keep body and soul together.
Bette Davis (1908 - 1989), The Lonely Life, 1962

This needs some thought.....

TTFN,
Jim

Writing Exercise

I think that sometimes it is a good thing to step away from the ongoing project and let my mind work on other subjects. A writing exercise in one way, write on something unrelated to what I've been grinding away at for the last few days. And grind it has seemed, for a few days, I was stuck on how unpolished my work seemed, I wrote and rewrote the same scene (#2) 3 times this week, and still wasn't satisfied. However, I went back through some notes I"d written over the winter, and reminded myself that I need to turn off the inner critic while writing a first draft. So... I got to it tonight, and put 1k words down, finished the second scene and started the third. Once I got going, it went smoothly.

So on to the "step-away". A writing exercise. Tomorrow, I'm going to write about something different. Practice, if you will. I'll combine elements into a scene unrelated to Imperfect Hope. In the back of my mind, a part of me realizes that it may end up in a tale somewhere, that's kind of how Imperfect Hope started, with a scene written for practice.

What do I want to do? I feel like I need to work on scene setting, as well as characterization. So my little tale will start with three elements and a setting, far different from the northern winterland I'm writing about in Imperfect hope. Then, if it feels right, I'll add a character. What will happen.....

TTFN,
Jim

I know the answer!

Quotes are a fun source of writing inspiration. Or at least, mental exercise. Today, I'm quoting Charles M. Schultz, of Peanuts fame. I'll then try to pick it apart and see what I come up with. Good luck, contestant number one.....

"I know the answer! The answer lies within the heart of all mankind! The answer is twelve? I think I'm in the wrong building."

Yeesh. I didn't listen to the question again!. I heard the professor start to ask a question, and in my excitement of recently reading his magnus opus, formulated a complex answer to a really simple question. In writing, the equivalent would be to plot out a story from start to finish, write the novel, only to have it rejected because... Because, for one, you didn't allow the characters you're writing about to ask you, the writer, the questions that he or she would logically ask. Why am I here? What am I doing? Why does that person hate me? How am I going to cross that river without a bridge now? Simplify the answers, you don't need to formulate a long narrative to answer everything.

So, in my active project, Imperfect Hope, I'm letting the main characters ask me those questions tonight. I think the answers will surprise me, I'm hoping they'll surprise the readers.

TTFN,
Jim

An encounter

Storms. Drifting sheets of rain slant down across the plains of Kansas and Nebraska, the sun slashes through the clouds to create a patchwork of shadow and sunlight. That's what I imagined the airspace looked like last night and tonight as I wove air traffic around and through the storms that filled my sector. Or at least, what I imagined after I'd had a chance to wind down. Somehow, during the rush, I was a bit focused.

However, afterwards. Last night, for example, I managed a walk around the facility at around eight pm. Dusk, just enough light to see, peaceful. Storms out east and west, but here at Denver Center the clouds formed a dark barrier to the west, with the sun peeking underneath the thunderstorms over Longs Peak. This in one way to unwind. Sometimes, of course, I listen for the owl that inhabits the huge cottonwood to the east of the parking lot, but last night I was distracted. Then I saw the fox.

I've known a fox family was living near the abandoned barn adjacent to the facility, but I'd never seen them. But as I walked around the perimeter of the parking lot, I noticed it. Him, or her. (ever notice how hard it is to refer to a fox as he?) Sitting at the fence line, watching me pass by perhaps 30 feet away. I slowed down, and stopped, and just watched back. And let my imaginations loose for a while.

I suspect, in the wild, a fox would never be so open about it's presence, but here, it was obviously comfortable with us hanging around. I imagined being in the wilderness, though. Watching a fox hunting while unaware of my presence. Stalking a mouse, or perhaps a rabbit (there are rabbits all around the FAA facility, so that's likely one source of food). I noticed it's tail held high as it watched me and wondered. In dogs, a high tail indicates happiness, or comfort, or other (humanly labeled) positive attitudes. WHy was the fox happy...

There's a story in it. Put it in my file for things to write about. Why was the fox happy.

Clear skies,
Jim