Insular

Adventures in Logophilia, Day 192:

insular

dwelling or situated on an island.  This has come to mean narrow-minded, as well as isolated and detached.

a Croatian island by Sphinx

Lately, I've come to realize the value of writing in an island mind set.  This is similar to my ideas in the post on hermetic, writing in an air-tight environment, keeping the door shut and visualizing Schrodinger's cat.  "Island writing" would point not only to keeping things contained, but also separating oneself so nothing can come in.  This is a challenge in the internet age where were swamped with commentary and blurbs and tweets and informational flashes everywhere we turn.  There is also a greater pressure for writers, especially for beginning, unpublished writers such as myself, to "build our platforms" online or create a following on Twitter, as well as visiting blogs, keeping blogs, reading, reading, reading the insights of others out there in the world.  It is confusing and exhausting.  When most of the time, all I want to do is write.

I've noticed that several months on Twitter leave me feeling this way at times.  Don't worry, I'm not about to leave the community, I'm simply taking this network with a grain of salt.  When those I follow tweet about insightful blog posts or articles, I am grateful.  Those things are innocuous, helpful and encouraging.  Some people really have a knack for crafting lovely, funny or intriguing tweets.  Yet... sometimes it amounts to a lot of distracting visual noise.  Too much of a good thing: read me! read this! you should be doing this!  you never should do that!  Ahh!

Much of this might be due to my struggles with anxiety.  When tweets suddenly feel like commentary on my personal writing life, I know it's time to retreat over the moat, pull up the drawbridge and write alone and unbothered in the tower... putting some distance between myself and others until the energy is back.  Just retreat and write.  It's all good!

AIL Day 82: advent

Today is the first day of

Advent.  

Advent is simply the arrival or coming of a notable person, thing or event - from the Latin adventus (arrival) and advenire (to come).  This season of Advent specifically is preparing for the coming of Christ.  Each year, I can hardly my excitement to be able to listen to Christmas music again and think of new creations to give as gifts to my loved ones.  Provided this excitement does not give way to overwhelmed despair, this looks to be a good year. 

***

I have to vent, as a writer just beginning to dip her toe into the waters of social media, that Twitter has been frustrating me.  I know there must be an ebb and flow to how many followers one must have, but the last few days I've seen mine dwindle.  1.) I know building a platform takes time.  I've been at it two months, so I'm imploring myself to chill out.  2.) The ebb and flow and dwindle of followers must happen to everyone.  So... is it just more noticeable because I have so few followers to begin with?  3.)  Am I saying stupid things?  I thought not tweeting if I had nothing to say was the better option.  Perhaps I'm wrong.  4.) I still have followers, and this by no means precludes gaining others.  5.) There must be a way I can use it creatively.  Shall I tell a story?  Shall I do hiakus?  I am studying my options.

What it boils down to is this: putting oneself out there is hard.  Hard for a shy introvert.  Hard for everyone.  I still feel like I'm talking in a room full of people having many brilliant conversations, unheard and hiding in a corner, but I have to tell myself it will change.  As much as I hate advertizing myself and my writing, that's how the game is played these days... but it is by no means something that is "won" or "mastered" in one go, in one tweet, in one word.  It takes practice. 

If the numbers really bother me, I'll keep away for a day or two and then get right back in.

AIL Day 71: echolalia

My apologies to those of you who read Daedalus on Google Reader.  The font sizes don't always cooperate with me.

Today's adventure in logophilia is

echolalia

That's a thing?  Yes, indeed!  Echolalia is the repetition (often pathological) of what is said by other people.  Twitter is a form of societal echolalia, methinks, especially when it comes to the practice of "re-tweeting."  For some reason I have a mental picture of Alpine yodelers when I hear this word.

Adventures in Logophilia Day 15: Quidnunc

Today's word is...

A quidnunc (noun) is a person who seeks to know all the latest gossip or news, in other words a busybody.  In Latin, it is literally "what now?"

I think we all have quidnunc moments (it can be a verb - I've decided), and I don't mean this in a bad way.  Not every is "up" on celebrity gossip, but when events sweep the nation or the world, we can't help but chatter about it - turn around to our neighbor in the next cubicle or inquire of a roommate if they "heard" about that thing the president said or what the weather looks like: "Man, if we don't get rain soon..." It's only human nature to twitter about these things... which is why something like, well, Twitter exists.  We were tweeting long before it required an email address and a password, long before ampersands and hashtags.  We do it everyday, whether it's from a blog like Daedalus or over morning coffee.  News spreads like wildfire, and we've become very good at producing a faster, more intense burn.

I just love how Latin works its way into our era.  See?  Whoever said Latin was dead obviously didn't like words like this gem!

Whimsical Wednesday: From Rowling to Rebecca

Here is the mid-week whimsy report:

• The New York Daily News got hold of a copy of J. K. Rowling's The Casual Vacancy in advance of its release.  They've gone ahead and called it dull, but judging from how the release of this book is a highly anticipated event, I'd imagine others will have their own opinions.
• NPR has an article on a Broadway musical-that-could-be based on Daphne du Maurier's Rebecca.  A Broadway musical of Rebecca?  I'm in. 
• The Telegraph has a lovely article compiling reflections of authors and their first jobs.  It makes me feel like my beginnings, humble as they are, are in good company and not to be regretted.  Among the stories: Hilary Mantel was a social worker in a geriatric hospital; Attica Locke worked in her father's law office; Joe Dunthorne was an incompetant barman. 
• The Emmys were Sunday night.  I was disappointed, of course, that none of the gentlemen from Sherlock (Cumberbatch, Moffat and Freeman) won anything.  I suppose they have a few BAFTAs anyhow, though.  There was a lot of talent in the room, I must say.  And it was a big room.
•  Jillian is now on Twitter.  She still hasn't quite figured out how to use it.  Details to come!