Update on Noveling

I really am writing...guess that's why I haven't been posting much. I'm behind in the word count but not so badly that I won't be able to catch up - I'm pretty sure! :)

Update on Noveling

I really am writing...guess that's why I haven't been posting much. I'm behind in the word count but not so badly that I won't be able to catch up - I'm pretty sure! :)

Gearing up...

It's another novel attempt. I still want to finish the last one. But, since the premise is to write one whole one - I'll start a new one this week. It'll be good practice either way.

Some things I like

Besides glitter and shoes, I have to say I love my new cell phone. It's soooo much better than the old one I had, better reception, easier to carry, and it has a camera. It really does. I resisted for many long days, months, years, about getting another cell phone. It hasn't taken me long to become a cell phone convert.

I am also loving my October copy of Southern Living. It's so fall-ish and homey.

And, I LOVE the fact that my parent's house has sold in Oklahoma and, in three weeks' time, they'll be moving back to North Carolina. THAT is just the best. They'll be in NC for Thanksgiving and for Christmas. The world is a beautiful place all the way around.

Besides which, I'm teaching creative writing AND I get to write another novel-in-a-month. Well, yes, I do need to finish the last one too. There is that. But, I can do that.

October

Oh my..it's October and we're well on our way to NaNoWriMo and another noveling month. It's certainly something to look forward to. :)

It's been a month...

and the manuscript grows a tad cold and a touch distant...but it's been good to get away. School is starting, the first week down, and I get to balance grading papers with writing my own. It's writing season, getting a bit cooler, and the leaves will be falling off the trees soon. I'll be able to see further from the desk in my study. Out the window, I mean. Maybe I'll see further into my manuscript too? Perhaps. Perhaps.

July is over...

And the noveling adventure has just begun... well, not really. Technically, it's over and the goal was 50,000 words. How'd I do? you might ask? well, not bad. I got to, specifically, 47,023 words. Just shy of the target. I wrote a LOT the last couple days. My wrists are definitely feeling it but that's ok. And, some of what I wrote actually makes me laugh. Book's not done, mind you. Story's not done. But I've enjoyed it and I intend to finish it.

So, I guess I'll keep counting...

Thank heavens...

that counter is wrong...I still have through tomorrow to finish...and I'm gonna need it!

One more ... just because of the description of the shoes

One more post as written by Eve...just because I love the description of these shoes:

I'm still staring at my shoes in their paid-retail boxes. They are Steven Luxe, which is the luxury version of Steve Madden. Which means ... supreme quality. I was thinking I'll sleep better if I put them under the covers (in their box) with me. So. Apparently the therapy they are giving me here in retail jail isn't working. I just keep telling the parole board that they are wearing really unattractive shoes, Not. Like. My. Shoes.

Apparently I'm gonna be here awhile.

Or at least til I can go to my shoe guy and have him stretch the shoes at the toe just a smidge so that I will be caused no pain as I break them in.

Ok I'll just admit it.

I bought Barbie's shoes.

THERE. I finally said it!

They are gold and pink and have GLITTER on them! And then the glitter gets all over you. And everyone else. It's like being Barbie AND Tinkerbell, which is all I have ever wanted! I told the SHOE SALESMAN this. And he laughed. Then I think I may have said something like, "I love you shoe guy. Thank you for making my shoe dream come true."

It's all sorta black and then wavy and fuzzy ... I may have fainted? It was like being DRUNK ... on a shoe.

The point is. I have these shoes that I can't even SHOW you because they are so beautiful and so sexy and so amazing and I cannot find a picture of them online. All I know is that ... as I told the Shoe Man ... "Shoe Man, you can't just be all devil may care about these shoes. This is like a shoe that demands a certain ATTITUDE. You know, you gotta really own this shoe. Be ONE with the SHOE. Commit to the SHOE!"

I'm sure he thought I was INSANE.

But people don't care if you are insane if you pay them for the merchandise and you smell good and YOU DON'T HAVE A MOUSTACHE!

Long slow deep breaths. (I'm gonna be fine)

Oh my...lots to write, lots to write...

That's ok...writing away.

In the meantime, a couple posts from a site that I occasional read. The writer, Eve, is an excellent motivator, and the basic point? Live your life to the fullest and do it now. Whatever it is, do it now and stop waiting for ... whatever ....

So, without further ado, here's a reposting.

Choosing to burn down your own life.

Understanding; in a deep and soulful way; This. Is. No. Longer. Working. For. Me.

Not a decision that many people make once in a lifetime. I feel; that this is perhaps the eighth time I have done this in my life time. I just counted. In my head I see versions of me with a simple "Strike Right" box of matches. The life I'm about to burn has become brittle, dry, filled with weeds. There's the threat of wildfires, which is a decision that isn't in your hands. That is a decision made by the Divine and the fire. Of course they say that fire is the Devil's only friend.

Truths are always startling.

You look at the foundation you so carefully rebuilt and you see huge cracks. When did they get there? Suddenly a sidewalk that lined up has split. It's no longer going to let you ride your pink sparkly disco roller skates over the smooth surface. Because the surface changed.

The cracks and shifts; they got there during the Earthquakes. You felt the Earthquakes, remember? But Earthquakes are such a funny thing. You are seated, pretending that you are on solid ground, that everything on your dresser can only be knocked off by your mischievous kitten who has taken to trying to understand the forces of gravity. Cats are baffled by Gravity. They cannot understand it. No matter how many times they see this, their eyes widen in amazement. You see the cat thought, "How could this be!? I don't understand. Isn't that supposed to float?" They cock their heads to the side.

In an earthquake there is a sound before it begins. Car alarms go off first. This gives many old people heart attacks because it startles them so very much. It is an explosion of noise. Like a marching band just exploded while playing "Eye of The Tiger" during a football game ....

Then the rolling motion or a sudden violent jolt. The violent jolt makes everyone who was raised in California, say in a calm voice, "GET INTO THE DOORWAY!"

Then the sounds of breaking glass. And the thought, "You know, I really should have bought that stupid Earthquake putty." Followed by the thought, "Hmmm ... I wonder if the roof will cave in?"

Depending on how large the quake is, it can seem to go on forever. You wonder; am I going to die? Are my loved ones ok? Where are my animals?

And then. As suddenly as it begins, it stops.

Rock and Roll Baby.

Immediately after the quake ... people run into the streets. They want to talk to humans. They want to say, "DID YOU FEEL THAT!? Turn on the news Mainard, I wanna know how high that one was!"

There is electricity in the air.

People discuss the quake in the middle of the street. Sometimes, people leave their houses and gather together, sitting with a radio or a small TV. The near death experience is profound. The fact that the Earth itself just moved EVERYTHING, including say .... your refrigerator which you cannot move by yourself. The quake picked up your house. It picked up your neighbors house. You see chimneys collapse. If you have ever been inside a home that has been retrofitted, meaning the foundation is bolted down, you feel the quake differently.

A wooden house that is older may stand up better than a brand new brick house. Because you see, flexibility is an important part of strength. Without flexibly, strength is too rigid and unyielding. This is why you cultivate not just strength, but flexibility and the ability to balance to both.

A decision to change your life is not entered into lightly. You will need help.

Regardless of the timing, it's important to understand that while it's natural to go back to the status quo after an Earthquake or natural disaster, because human beings cannot hold onto truly knowing how very ... not in control they truly are. What you need to take from this moment is that you do control ONE thing.

You control the very things that you need to get to goal....

Seven - well - Six Short Days

Got some work to do to catch up. BUT, I have every intention of doing it. The stack of filled boxes is getting smaller and the stack of collapsed boxes is much, much bigger now. Very nice.

Keep writing!

Holy Cow

Did you know that it costs approximately $750 to have someone analyze a broken (what exactly is broken is still unknown at this point and for $750 may remain unknown) hard drive and retrieve the information stored therein (and that's for a base price - it could cost more than that)?

The question becomes, at this point, what price knowledge?

Sigh.

I'm thinking that I could get a NEW COMPUTER for that.

I'm also thinking that I am SOOO thankful to the Geek Squad guys for putting a new hard drive in my laptop yesterday. They gave me my defunct drive - it's sadly boxed up in a little foam container. I'm also thankful that I still have SOME stuff backed up (of course, I hadn't gotten around to backing up stuff since August of last year so I'm missing about a year's worth of school stuff). I'm thankful that some of that stuff was on my jump drive. I'm thankful that I emailed Derrick a copy of my novel pages to take a look at. I'm thankful that, even though I'm missing tons of school stuff and all my favorites are gone, I still have a computer to work with. I'm thankful that most of what I have I at least have a hard copy of at school so I can retype if need be.

So...what price knowledge?

I'm also thinking I should look at this as an opportunity to start fresh. I spent most of yesterday putting everything BACK on my computer.

Life IS exciting.

The Plan

Well, since I'm a bit behind, I figured I need a new plan. So, starting tomorrow, if I commit to writing 3,334 words per day (ok...really, starting Monday after I get myself moved but maybe on Sunday once everything is packed) for the rest of the month, I'll STILL be done before the deadline because then I have the luxury of being ahead of my NEW schedule. It's warped, I know, but it IS procrastination logic at it's finest.

Ah, the leisure of summertime.

Moving this weekend

Ok...I'm moving this weekend so writing's kinda taken a back seat this week. BUT I have a plan for catching up beautifully. It's good to have a plan. :)

Rolling on the floor, just laughing...

As provided by a fellow-teacher: Some of these I've seen before but they still make me laugh. A collection of actual analogies and metaphors found in high school essays. These excerpts are published each year (but, I have no idea where) to the amusement of teachers across the country. Here are last year's winners.

1. Her face was a perfect oval, like a circle that had its two sides gently compressed by a Thigh Master.
2. His thoughts tumbled in his head, making and breaking alliances like underpants in a dryer without Cling Free.
3. He spoke with the wisdom that can only come from experience, like a guy who went blind because he looked at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it and now goes around the country speaking at high schools about the dangers of looking at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it.
4. She grew on him like she was a colony of E. coli, and he was room-temperature Canadian beef.
5. She had a deep, throaty, genuine laugh, like that sound a dog makes just before it throws up.
6. Her vocabulary was as bad as, like, whatever.
7. He was as tall as a six-foot, three-inch tree.
8. The revelation that his marriage of 30 years had disintegrated because of his wife's infidelity came as a rude shock, like a surcharge at a formerly surcharge-free ATM machine.
9. The little boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the way a bowling ball wouldn't.
10. McBride fell 12 stories, hitting the pavement like a Hefty bag filled with vegetable soup.
11. From the attic came an unearthly howl. The whole scene had an eerie, surreal quality, like when you're on vacation in another city and Jeopardy comes on at 7:00 p.m. instead of 7:30
12. Her hair glistened in the rain like a nose hair after a sneeze.
13. The hailstones leaped from the pavement, just like maggots when you fry them in hot grease.
14. Long separated by cruel fate, the star-crossed lovers raced across the grassy field toward each other like two freight trains, one having left Cleveland at 6:36 p.m. traveling at 55 mph, the other from Topeka at 4:19 p.m. at a speed of 35 mph.
15. They lived in a typical suburban neighborhood with picket fences that resembled Nancy Kerrigan's teeth.
16. John and Mary had never met. They were like two hummingbirds who had also never met.
17. He fell for her like his heart was a mob informant, and she was the East River.
18. Even in his last years, Granddad had a mind like a steel trap, only one that had been left out so long, it had rusted shut.
19. Shots rang out, as shots are wont to do.
20. The plan was simple, like my brother-in-law Phil. But unlike Phil, this plan just might work.
21. The young fighter had a hungry look, the kind you get from not eating for a while.
22. He was as lame as a duck. Not the metaphorical lame duck, either, but a real duck that was actually lame, maybe from stepping on a land mine or something.
23. The ballerina rose gracefully en Pointe and extended one slender leg behind her, like a dog at a fire hydrant.
24. It was an American tradition, like fathers chasing kids around with power tools.
25. He was deeply in love. When she spoke, he thought he heard bells, as if she were a garbage truck backing up.

Still catching up...

Didn't get quite as far as I'd planned this weekend but I DID get some done...quite a bit of fun so far. Playing playin playing!

Ketchup Day

Well, it's catch-up day for me! I'll be celebrating all things pertaining to catching up with my word counts. Perhaps I'll even have hamburgers with ketchup for lunch. Writing writing writing...

Whooohoooo!

I'm off to a good start...a writer's high I believe. 6974 words, 24 pages, already. Darn good start to the month of July. The goal is 1,667 words per day so that means I'm about 3 days ahead right now. I'm just happy, happy, happy. And who knows what might happen next?

Of course, I'm leaving out how many times I got up from the desk and how difficult it was for me to just sit still and write for a little bit today. A friend of mine enjoyed pointing out the likelihood that I'might be just a touch ADHD - hmmm, there's an outside likelihood that he's right...maybe, but I prefer to think of it as enthusiastic about life and the things that are going on around me - and I did finally settle down and write so, I think I'll not lay claim to that title. Once I got going, I was smoking.

Don't bother asking what it's about though. I don't have an answer yet. I'll know by August 1 though!

Oh - and complete side note, sunburns and the television can be a wee bit distracting when trying to write. Sigh. Darn, I love summer though.

One day and a bit.

Just one day and a little bit extra before the month of July...novel writing here I come!

Ooo...found a place to write today...

I found a new place to write. Greg's Bagels in Belvedere Square. Today was the first time I've ever been there. I have to say - bagels are ok, not the best, not the worst food - but I LOVED the bagel I had today. Oh, just a plain bagel you say? Not so. THIS was a plain bagel with cream cheese and raspberry jelly. STILL not impressed? All I can say is, ya' gotta' TASTE these bagels. Wow.

And it would be a magnificent place to just go sit, type a while, and eat a magnificent bagel in the morning.

What a plan. Lordy, I love summer.

MC I and II

Magna Carta I
What makes a good novel?

• witty dialogue
• bright and lively, strong and clever characters
• a dash of romance
• mystery
• satisfying ending (not necessarily happy – but right)
• happy endings too
• beautiful description
• background that is clear, easily imagined and defined
• adventure
• sci-fi
• magic
• a thriller
• a point
• beautiful, evocative descriptions
• surprising or unexpected description
• unexpected plot twists
• consistent and effective point of view
• daring symbols
• real people/real characterization
• a story that gives hope, even if it ends badly
• language that inspires
• quotations effectively used
• something that is a minor detail or a poem or line that seems like nothing but turns out to have a powerful impact
• campy and cheesy but witty

Magna Carta II – The Evil Twin
Things that are just horrible in a novel.

• uneven or ineffective use of point of view changes – this drives me NUTS
• depressing or unredeemed endings
• that impending sense of doom, when you just know it’s going to end up in a disaster...and it does
• clunky dialogue
• bad description
• purple prose
• campy and cheesy without the wit so the work is just plain dumb
• dysfunctional families who don’t know they are
• dysfunctional main character with no redeeming value
• being adventurous in prose or plot while having no real reason or need to
• not knowing that, sometimes, simple really is the way to go
• excessively graphic horror
• self-aggrandizing main characters
• a lack of compassion in the main character
• un-wrapped-up plot points

I'm gettin' psyched...

yes...I am!

Scheduling my time...

You know. You'd think that summer would be a great time to write a novel - all that empty time. Yeah, right. I can find SOOOO many things to do.

So - realistically - here's my schedule that I plan to stick to this summer for July.

8:00 am Get up. Get ready for the day and eat breakfast.
9:30 am Gym. Oh yes, you read that one right. Gym.
11:00 am Journal and writing.
1:00 pm Lunch and pool or whatever else strikes my fancy for the rest of the day.

Sounds good. Sounds doable. I just have to ACTUALLY GET UP BY 8 AM TO MAKE IT WORK!!! But that's part of the deal too. It means I'll be going to bed BEFORE 3 am. Also sounds doable, doesn't it? YEAH, IF YOU'RE NOT A NIGHT PERSON!!!

Still I am determined not to spend my entire summer having breakfast at noon as I have in so many previous summers. I like the plan. I think it's possible.

I am committed.

Yipee.

Finished The Mermaid Chair

I finished The Mermaid Chair in what was record time, even for me. The story was satisfying in its culmination - very appropriate and ironic in the character twists; the various psyches were well deliniated and the clues were all there, well-placed and well-paced throughout.

But what really got me was the prose. What magnificent language, what great story-telling. It was - it was what a book should be. I could see it so clearly in my head. South Carolina was well rendered and the paintings were described with such clarity that it is still as if I am looking at them in my mind right now. The women were described with their own quirks but they were real people.

To tell more, to get into an analysis of what happens and of the way the book is constructed is really what I want to do here - but I don't want to give away the story by doing so. Perhaps later. So many threads to trace - so many colors used to effect. Oh, it is a rich book.

threads to trace:
diving
use of green in its different colors/different parts of the story
character/clothing and apparel evolution
nervousness
discussion of psychological habits or tendencies as reflected in the character actions
Hugh's role as psych and as husband
limits of psychology
the wildlife
religion versus (or tied to) mythology
belief
release/desire to be released from pain or beliefs
growth
size/type of art (including the chair itself)
trips to/from island
role of water/food
role of ceremony
art and intuition and religion versus science and medicine and psychology and fact
fact verus the stories people tell
male/female, mother/daughter, father/daughter relationships
motive/intention and resultant event (cause & effect)
physical versus mental and how that ties to religious belief and myth
perception



"I did not fall from grace, I dove."

The Month-Long Novelist Agreement and Statementof Understanding (Form: #A30/31/50K)

I hereby pledge my intent to write a 50,000-word novel in one month's time. By invoking an absurd, month-long deadline on such an enormous undertaking, I understand that notions of "craft," "brilliance," and "competency" are to be chucked right out the window, where they will remain, ignored, until they are retrieved for the editing process. I understand that I am a talented person, capable of heroic acts of creativity, and I will give myself enough time over the course of the next month to allow my innate gifts to come to the surface, unmolested by self-doubt, self-criticism, and other acts of self-bullying.

During the month ahead, I realize I will produce clunky dialogue, clichéd characters, and deeply flawed plots. I agree that all of these things will be left in my rough draft, to be corrected and/or excised at a later point. I understand my right to withhold my manuscript from all readers until I deem it completed. I also acknowledge my right as author to substantially inflate both the quality of the rough draft and the rigors of the writing process should such inflation prove useful in garnering me respect and attention, or freedom from participation in onerous household chores.

I acknowledge that the month-long, 50,000-word deadline I set for myself is absolute and unchangeable, and that any failure to meet the deadline, or any effort on my part to move the deadline once the adventure has begun, will invite well-deserved mockery from friends and family. I also acknowledge that, upon successful completion of the stated noveling objective, I am entitled to a period of gleeful celebration and revelry, the duration and intensity of which may preclude me from participating fully in workplace activities for days, if not weeks, afterward.

Glenna, 6/15/06

Novel Start Date 7/1/06
Novel Deadline 7/31/06

The Mermaid Chair

You know, I'm only 20 pages in, I haven't even really gotten to the driving action but oh, do I love this prose. What magnificent description. The very first paragraph drives the plot. It seems so weak to call it only a hook...it's much more. It is the definition.

I've got pen in hand and am already marking up the text. Poetry yes, but prose? I am not usually moved to highlight and mark as I read the first time through on a prose piece. It is beautiful, very beautiful.


"I did not fall from grace, I dove."

It's that time of year... Archiving Fall/Winter Reading

Since we finished exams today (mine anyway) it's time to archive the Fall/Winter Reading list and start putting up the summer list. Really, I suppose, what I'm archiving is the Fall/Winter/Spring list, because it's June now. Still feels like spring though.

Well - here it is - or here it was - a representation of all that is novelicious!

Fall/Winter Reading for 2005-2006

I Burn for You

Dark Challenge

Haunted

Even Vampires Get the Blues

GhostWalk (excellent beach read)

Dark Magic

Dark Gold

Alice in Wonderland

The Creative Habit

Dark Prince

Dark Demon

Crimson Rogue (good series)

Dime Store Magic

Good Poems (again!)

Three

Erotic Tales of Texas Vampires (pretty darn good)

Someday My Prince

The Corset Diaries

Bitten & Smitten

The Music of the Night

Something Wicked

Jude's Law

The Immortal Highlander

The Sedgwick Curse

Shaking Her Assets

Dragonfly

Wild Ducks Flying Backwards

Perks of Being a Wallflower (wow!)

Go Tell It on the Mountain

Siddartha

Jonathan Livingston Seagull

Illusions

The Fountainhead

Walden Two

Walden

A Midsummer Night's Dream

Sex, Lies, and Online Dating

Good Girls Do

Shadow Touch

Undead and Unappreciated

Awaiting the Moon

Macbeth

The Right to Write

The Pocket Muse

The Writer's Book of Matches

The Girl's Guide to Vampires

Sex and the Single Vampire

Through a Crimson Veil

A Darker Crimson

Fondling Your Muse

The Crucible

Private Demon

The Scarlet Letter

The Canterbury Tales

Care of the Soul

Practicing the Presence

Science of Mind

Living the Science of Mind

No Plot? No Problem

knitscene

The Vampire Tapestry

Little Black Book of Stories

The Fairy Godmother

La Morte du Artur

A Taste of Crimson

Every Which Way But Dead

The Good, the Bad, the Undead

Dead Witch Walking

Really Unusual Bad Boys

The 3 a.m. Epiphany

Beowulf

Simply the Best Home Decorating Book

Vogue Knitting, Fall 2005

Sir Gawain and the Green Knight

Things Fall Apart

Room with a View

The Collected Works of Eudora Welty

It's all in the words...

As sent by a friend...

One day, there was a blind man sitting on the steps of a building with a hat by his feet and a sign that read: "I am blind, please help." A creative publicist was walking by and stopped to observe. He saw that the blind man had only a few coins in his hat. He dropped in more coins and, without asking for permission, took the sign and rewrote it.He returned the sign to the blind man and left.

That afternoon the publicist returned to the blind man and noticed that his hat was full of bills and coins.The blind man recognized his footsteps and asked if it was he who had rewritten his sign and wanted to know what he had written on it. The publicist responded: "Nothing that was not true. I just wrote the message a little differently." He smiled and went on his way. The new sign read:

"Today is Spring and I cannot see it."

-------------------------------------------------

Sometimes we need to change our strategy. If we always do what we've always done, we'll always get what we've always gotten. And remember too, sometimes it's not WHAT we say, it's HOW we say it!!

Hurt Magnificent

HURT (Johnny Cash)

Video Code provided by VideoCodeZone.Com

Sompin' New

Spring is waving its floweredey hand goodbye as Summer grows in with the thickening, darkening grass and the damp heat of a city that sits on the bay.

Okeydokey...needs some work there as I mix my metaphors - sorta - but it is starting to get warmer. Street festival is tomorrow and I'm looking forward to the booths of faux art and fashion craft and the rock music played by country bands and the barking of dogs inexplicability trailing about with tongue hanging out among thousands of people (why would that be fun for a dog?) and the milling about of ages and the inevitable crying child who had misplaced his parents for the afternoon.

Frankly, I probably just need to write more since I've still got February's postings still up.

Well, looks like I've got another group of student writers all psyched to try the 'novel-in-a-month' thing this July. That is good - no, really, it is. Sigh. I'll be giving it a shot. Yup. And this time, it's gotta' get finished because frankly, I can't live it down this time.

For my birthday I was given a book called Anyone Can Write. It's a good book and a delightful joke, a pointed joke. And the jokester is the same individual who keeps quoting Stewie at me, "So, how's that novel coming. Got a protagonist yet? Someone to drive the story? Hmm? Maybe a plot or a setting to add?" It is an extremely funny clip which I would have linked to but, unfortunately, it appears that the clip has been removed due to copywrite infringement. Well - won't touch that then. Write. Yup. This time... Actually, it should be fun and I have been writing, just not quite as consistently as one might expect.

Spring Break

Ah...the glories of spring break! Nicey nice. So many things and so many days...and all those research papers to grade too. Ah, the wonders of spring.

Bad romance and good challenges

A few highlights come to mind when I look over the types of things I've been reading lately:

• sonnets
• Alice in Wonderland
• Pride and Prejudice
• chick lit
• vampires
• werewolves

and you know what? I love a campy, witty romance. I HATE bad romance. Elizabeth Bennet - good. Perky, shallow vampiress who will remain nameless to avoid offending anyone - bad. I cannot believe how much bad chick lit there is out there. I mean - vapid, pointless, groundless, nothingness. It's awful and I seem to have had a bad run of it lately.

So - I went to the book store. Bought some really good scifi (Patricia McKillip), a bit of murder (PD James and Umberto Eco), a touch of philosophy (Anne Lamont), and washing it all down with some good ole fantistical horror (Clive Barker). After that, I think I'll tackle Anna Karenina for a change of pace. Something - anything - but bad romance. Maybe I'll just read some more good poetry.

Reading of The Perks of Being a Wallflower

Wow. I'm working on processing it. But, for right now, wow.

Wow. Amazingly complex letter format. The clues and the psychological exploration was all there for the unveiling. Wow. Not a single noticed break in point of view and SO well told that when the narrator couldn't give an interpretation of another character's reactions, the narrator gave enough detail because of his uncertainty about the situation that it gave the reader the clues for inference.

Wow. Nicely done. I like Charlie better than Holden too. So, I'll let it ferment for now.

The wistfulness and dissolution...

Elvis Kissed Me

T. S. Kerrigan

"Elvis kissed me once," she swears,
sitting in a neon dive
ordering her drinks in pairs.

Two stools down you nurse a beer,
sensing easy pickings here.

"Back in sixty-eight," she sighs,
smoothing back her yellow hair.
Teared mascara smears her eyes.

Drawing near, you claim you've met,
offer her a cigarette.

"Call me cheap," she sobs, "or bad,
say that decent men dismissed me,
say I've lost my looks, but add,
Elvis kissed me."

The humor of it all...

This is Just to Say

William Carlos Williams

I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox

and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast

Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold


This Is Just to Say

Erica-Lynn Gambino

(for William Carlos Williams)

I have just
asked you to
get out of my
apartment

even though
you never
thought
I would

Forgive me
you were
driving
me insane

Ah...the love of my life

Words, language, poetry - the ability to turn a phrase - the joy of an idea compressed into ink. I LOVE poetry. What do you mean, you don't read? You don't write? What DO you do with your time? I don't understand. But, Billy Collins does it so well.

Nightclub

You are so beautiful and I am a fool
to be in love with you
is a theme that keeps coming up
in songs and poems.
There seems to be no room for variation.
I have never heard anyone sing
I am so beautiful
and you are a fool to be in love with me,
even though this notion has surely
crossed the minds of women and men alike.
You are so beautiful, too bad you are a fool
is another one you don't hear.
Or, you are a fool to consider me beautiful.
That one you will never hear, guaranteed.

For no particular reason this afternoon
I am listening to Johnny Hartman
whose dark voice can curl around
the concepts of love, beauty, and foolishness
like no one else's can.
It feels like smoke curling up from a cigarette
someone left burning on a baby grand piano
around three o'clock in the morning;
smoke that billows up into the bright lights
while out there in the darkness
some of the beautiful fools have gathered
around little tables to listen,
some with their eyes closed,
others leaning forward into the music
as if it were holding them up,
or twirling the loose ice in a glass,
slipping by degrees into a rhythmic dream.

Yes, there is all this foolish beauty,
borne beyond midnight,
that has no desire to go home,
especially now when everyone in the room
is watching the large man with the tenor sax
that hangs from his neck like a golden fish.
He moves forward to the edge of the stage
and hands the instrument down to me
and nods that I should play.
So I put the mouth piece to my lips
and blow into it with all my living breath.
We are all so foolish,
my long bebop solo begins by saying,
so damn foolish
we have become beautiful without even knowing it.

Snow, snow, snow

We got snow...looks like about a foot. Of course it was on Saturday night, so I'm not sure how much school we'll get off, but I'm thinking we've got at least Monday, possibly Tuesday and Wednesday if the snow melts and kicks up lots of ice at night. Ah...the possibilities...

A REAL winter, please...

Ok...it's February and last night we had a thunderstorm on top of a day of grey, dreary rain. I love the rain, don't get me wrong. And it was delightfully cozy and the fog is magnificently eerie. But it's February, as I've already pointed out for any who have missed that fact. It's supposed to be cold and dreary AND SNOWY! What the heck?

Now I'm hearing that it is to be a rough February. Bring it on!

But so far, this spitting and hissing that the sky is doing...it's just not right. I want a good solid blizzard here.

And that restlessness of January? I don't think it was just January.

A delightful surprise...

Well, it all started this morning, as mornings are wont to start when the sun rises. Ok, technically I was up and showered BEFORE the sun rose, but that's ok. The story starts better this way. Anyway, I was up and showered and all set for school when I noticed the little red blinking light on my phone receiver.

Lo, is that a blinking light I see before me? A message in the early morning dawn?

It was in fact. A message waiting for me, I mean. A friend was calling to let me know that the county was on a two-hour delay schedule. REALLY? It was bright and sunny out; looked just fine from the window. I ran to the television. Sure enough - it was not a hoax - we were on a two-hour delay. Yippee!

"But why?" you might ask. "You just said it looked good." Yes, I did, didn't I? It did look good, but we had had a storm the night before and, apparently, there was lots of black ice on the road. Good enough for me.

I went back to bed for a couple hours. Ahhh.

Restlessness

I think it must come with January...restlessness...the desire to fling everything and go off to tropical climes and have adventures and stare magical jaguars in the eye and listen to brightly colored, 100-year old parrots and macaws up in the trees and find treasure or at least a long-abandoned stone temple. It's either that or I've been watching too many adventure movies over the last month or so.

Reading: The Creative Habit by Twyla Tharp. I like it. Interesting perspective on art from a dancer/choreographer. She talks about living in New York City. That may be just as exciting as the tropics in it's own dreary, pulsing, neon and taxi yellow type of way.

Ah well, I could just walk around by myself in Baltimore City in the middle of the night. That could be adventurous. After all, I read the newspaper (sometimes); I see what happens. Ok - maybe that would just be stupid actually. But it's probably no worse than my last post - running off to join the Peace Corps. Six of one, half-dozen of the other.

If wishes were fishes... perhaps they are though?

If I ran away and joined the peace corps, what would I do with my cats? I suppose that's not an option then. They're not staying in little kennel boxes for six months in quarentine. Huh. Another strategy is in order then. Clearly.

Merriest of New Years!

May your year be prosperous, your heart generous, and your days filled with joy.

I resolve to be fit, enjoy life, travel, plan and follow through on things, and generally just be happy this year.

Happy 2006 to all!