gloaming
Gloaming (a noun) is another word for twilight or dusk. I first happened upon it in Jane Eyre and many more contemporary places since.
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
Adventures in Logophilia Day 42: gloaming (j)
Today's word is...
Gloaming (a noun) is another word for twilight or dusk. I first happened upon it in Jane Eyre and many more contemporary places since.
Gloaming (a noun) is another word for twilight or dusk. I first happened upon it in Jane Eyre and many more contemporary places since.
Retellings: Sherlock vs Elementary (jillian)
'Tis the season of retellings... particularly on terms of television. I've been trying to wrap my head around the new CBS series Elementary, which sees Jonny Lee Miller as Sherlock Holmes in contemporary New York with Lucy Liu as his sidekick Joan Watson. The Telegraph has a nice article on it, today. I've not seen it because television in general tends to eat time, but I have to admit I am curious now to see if it works or if it flops.
As a devotee of BBC's Sherlock, I came to this as a bit of a biased snob. "What? Making Watson a woman? Taking Sherlock out of London?" Etcetera, etcetera. But, of course, people probably said the same when Sherlock came out in 2010: "How can Benedict Cumberbatch possibly be better than Jeremy Brett? The idea!" But... while these misgivings are valid in their own way, I've come to realize or remember with humility that these are all retellings, not the original story.
Like my argument about viewing a book and its subequent film or films as different animals (i.e. Pride and Prejudice), I think we need to look at the different versions of the stories as equally legitimate renderings. There cannot be one "true" film or television verson of a story. Each will be different. Elementary chooses to emphasize Sherlock as a brilliant drug addict with tattoos, and Watson as a woman and the doctor assigned to keep him sober. In Sherlock, he labels himself a "high functioning sociopath" and texts compulsively, as Watson is the roommate who keeps him in line and keeps him human. One show is American, the other is British. One is slated as a regular series, the other is a miniseries. The comparisons continue, but neither is wrong. Both are a celebration of the original seed of the Sherlock Holmes stories that Sir Arthur Conan Doyle wrote in the late 19th century. To nitpick about Watson's gender or Sherlock's hair color is to totally miss the point. The details are just colors, shadows and angles. The writers, actors and directors of both shows have distinctly different ideas about what makes those stories and characters so compelling. That's why I sit humbly on my hands when i think about my ire for Ridley Scott's Robin Hood. No one owns Robin Hood. No one owns Sherlock Holmes. They belong to everyone.
Retellings are in our blood, those left-over Anglo-Saxon narrative impulses. Our version of Beowulf isn't the original, but it celebrates the original seed of the story. Same with King Arthur and Robin Hood, and Homer's tales. In this era, the stories have evolved from oral anonymities to published works. I ask again, how many times has Pride and Prejudice or Great Expectations made it to a miniseries or theatrical form? Many times celebrated. If anything, film versions always bring the most intrigued back to the source, back to reading how the "real" Sherlock Holmes solved mysteries, made meticulous observations and shot cocaine when he was bored. (No, I don't condone him. We're not supposed to.) So how can multiple versions be a bad thing? And can't they co-exist?
Definitely.
So... pick your poison!
As a devotee of BBC's Sherlock, I came to this as a bit of a biased snob. "What? Making Watson a woman? Taking Sherlock out of London?" Etcetera, etcetera. But, of course, people probably said the same when Sherlock came out in 2010: "How can Benedict Cumberbatch possibly be better than Jeremy Brett? The idea!" But... while these misgivings are valid in their own way, I've come to realize or remember with humility that these are all retellings, not the original story.
Like my argument about viewing a book and its subequent film or films as different animals (i.e. Pride and Prejudice), I think we need to look at the different versions of the stories as equally legitimate renderings. There cannot be one "true" film or television verson of a story. Each will be different. Elementary chooses to emphasize Sherlock as a brilliant drug addict with tattoos, and Watson as a woman and the doctor assigned to keep him sober. In Sherlock, he labels himself a "high functioning sociopath" and texts compulsively, as Watson is the roommate who keeps him in line and keeps him human. One show is American, the other is British. One is slated as a regular series, the other is a miniseries. The comparisons continue, but neither is wrong. Both are a celebration of the original seed of the Sherlock Holmes stories that Sir Arthur Conan Doyle wrote in the late 19th century. To nitpick about Watson's gender or Sherlock's hair color is to totally miss the point. The details are just colors, shadows and angles. The writers, actors and directors of both shows have distinctly different ideas about what makes those stories and characters so compelling. That's why I sit humbly on my hands when i think about my ire for Ridley Scott's Robin Hood. No one owns Robin Hood. No one owns Sherlock Holmes. They belong to everyone.
Retellings are in our blood, those left-over Anglo-Saxon narrative impulses. Our version of Beowulf isn't the original, but it celebrates the original seed of the story. Same with King Arthur and Robin Hood, and Homer's tales. In this era, the stories have evolved from oral anonymities to published works. I ask again, how many times has Pride and Prejudice or Great Expectations made it to a miniseries or theatrical form? Many times celebrated. If anything, film versions always bring the most intrigued back to the source, back to reading how the "real" Sherlock Holmes solved mysteries, made meticulous observations and shot cocaine when he was bored. (No, I don't condone him. We're not supposed to.) So how can multiple versions be a bad thing? And can't they co-exist?
Definitely.
So... pick your poison!
 |
| Elementary starring Jonny Lee Miller and Lucy Liu. CBS. |
Or...
 |
| Sherlock starring Benedict Cumberbatch and Martin Freeman. BBC. |
Synopsis Metaphor (jillian)
A metaphor for you...
This is how I've come to think of writing synopses and queries: writing a synopsis is like orbiting the earth whereas writing a novel is being on the ground, engaging in the world. (Pretend that my pattern of orbit on the left actually makes sense.) When you orbit a planet, you take in a very general view, but no less breathtaking angle, of the Earth. When you're actually writing a novel, you are inside and very intimately involved with the details. So actually, writing a synopsis or the actual the novel comes down to a matter of angles and viewpoints, a telescope or a microscope. Suddenly everything about this process becomes less daunting if I look at this way. I'm orbiting. It may not be fun, but it's a good skill to have, a good exercise to use in the aftermath of a year and a half of work. What does my novel look like from a distance?
This is how I've come to think of writing synopses and queries: writing a synopsis is like orbiting the earth whereas writing a novel is being on the ground, engaging in the world. (Pretend that my pattern of orbit on the left actually makes sense.) When you orbit a planet, you take in a very general view, but no less breathtaking angle, of the Earth. When you're actually writing a novel, you are inside and very intimately involved with the details. So actually, writing a synopsis or the actual the novel comes down to a matter of angles and viewpoints, a telescope or a microscope. Suddenly everything about this process becomes less daunting if I look at this way. I'm orbiting. It may not be fun, but it's a good skill to have, a good exercise to use in the aftermath of a year and a half of work. What does my novel look like from a distance?
Monday, October 22, 2012
Adventures in Logophilia Day 41: will-o'-the-wisp (j)
Today's word with a sort-of-All-Hallows tilt is...
Will-o'-the-wisp (noun) is a phosphorescent light that appears in the night over marshes and is thought to be due to the combustion of gas from decomposed organic matter. In other words, a ghostly light in a swamp. Another name for it is ignis fatuus. More metaphorically speaking, will-o'-the-wisp can refer to a goal or a person difficult to reach or catch. According to Oxford Dictionaries, this is a 17th century word originally known as "will with the wisp", the wisp being a lighted torch. This always puts to mind Tolkein's Dead Marshes from The Two Towers, as Frodo and Sam follow Gollum through the ghostly lights passed dead things in the water. Freakiest passage ever. Freakiest movie scene as well.
will-o'-the-wisp
Will-o'-the-wisp (noun) is a phosphorescent light that appears in the night over marshes and is thought to be due to the combustion of gas from decomposed organic matter. In other words, a ghostly light in a swamp. Another name for it is ignis fatuus. More metaphorically speaking, will-o'-the-wisp can refer to a goal or a person difficult to reach or catch. According to Oxford Dictionaries, this is a 17th century word originally known as "will with the wisp", the wisp being a lighted torch. This always puts to mind Tolkein's Dead Marshes from The Two Towers, as Frodo and Sam follow Gollum through the ghostly lights passed dead things in the water. Freakiest passage ever. Freakiest movie scene as well.
Sunday, October 21, 2012
Adventures in Logophilia Day 40: harpy (jillian)
Today's word is...
A harpy (noun) is a predatory monster from Greek mythology, which has a woman's head and a vulture's body. A contemporary harpy would be a predatory person or a leech, and also a shrewish woman. Not your average insult, eh? More effective, too.
harpy
A harpy (noun) is a predatory monster from Greek mythology, which has a woman's head and a vulture's body. A contemporary harpy would be a predatory person or a leech, and also a shrewish woman. Not your average insult, eh? More effective, too.
Saturday, October 20, 2012
Adventures in Logophilia Day 39: fey (jillian)
Continuing with our Halloween theme, today's creepy word is...
Fey (an adjective) simply means "fated to die", and something that is fey is foreboding of death or major calamity. It can also mean crazy - something marked by a strange, otherworldly air. Other uses of the word are "excessively refined", "dainty or precious" or "quaintly unconventional." Fey, as a harbinger of death, was probably the earliest use - pointing to fairies who were the scapegoats for sudden, unexplainable death and everyday inconveniences (oh, no! The milk went sour!) in early centuries. In my first lesson on the Middle Ages - Catherine Called Birdy - a character dies in her sleep and she is considered "elf shot" because there isn't a mark of trauma on the body. Elf shot. Stroke. Same thing, right? I don't think we will ever stop being shaken to the core by death, no matter what the explanation.
Friday, October 19, 2012
Adventures in Logophilia Day 38: chimera (jillian)
Today's word is...
A chimera (noun and sometimes capitalized) is a fire-breathing she-monster from Greek mythology with a lion's head, a goat's body and a serpent's tail. Chimera has come to describe any imaginary hybrid monster. Chimera is also one of my favorite metaphors describing a illusion, vision or an unfathomable, soul-shaking nightmare. In biology and genetics, the term refers to an individual made of unmatching genetic material; in theory what might happen if an embryo sometime in the early stages of division absorbs another "sibling" embryo. One also thinks of chimeras in regards to conjoined human twins or a cat born with two heads - phenomena stranger than fiction. If that's not an image for Halloween, I don't know what is.
chimera
 |
| From steampunkwines.com. |
A chimera (noun and sometimes capitalized) is a fire-breathing she-monster from Greek mythology with a lion's head, a goat's body and a serpent's tail. Chimera has come to describe any imaginary hybrid monster. Chimera is also one of my favorite metaphors describing a illusion, vision or an unfathomable, soul-shaking nightmare. In biology and genetics, the term refers to an individual made of unmatching genetic material; in theory what might happen if an embryo sometime in the early stages of division absorbs another "sibling" embryo. One also thinks of chimeras in regards to conjoined human twins or a cat born with two heads - phenomena stranger than fiction. If that's not an image for Halloween, I don't know what is.
Thursday, October 18, 2012
Adventures in Logophilia Day 37: Lycanthropia (jillian)
Today's word is...
Lycanthropia (an archaic noun) refers to "a variety of melancholy in which the person believes himself to be changed into a wolf." (From Jeffrey Kacirk's Forgotten English) Therefore a lycanthrope is a werewolf - not someone who likes lichens. That would be "lichenthrope." According to Oxford Dictionaries lycanthrope is a 17th century term. So... not medieval but a decidedly early modern paranoia. It makes me wonder how the werewolf myth began in the first place.
As it is so close to Halloween, I should have put this word into spooky calligraphy, but alas, I ran out of time this morning.
lycanthropia
Lycanthropia (an archaic noun) refers to "a variety of melancholy in which the person believes himself to be changed into a wolf." (From Jeffrey Kacirk's Forgotten English) Therefore a lycanthrope is a werewolf - not someone who likes lichens. That would be "lichenthrope." According to Oxford Dictionaries lycanthrope is a 17th century term. So... not medieval but a decidedly early modern paranoia. It makes me wonder how the werewolf myth began in the first place.
As it is so close to Halloween, I should have put this word into spooky calligraphy, but alas, I ran out of time this morning.
Wednesday, October 17, 2012
Whimsy on Wednesday (Jillian)
A little literary news reel for you:
- On the Telegraph, British author Hilary Mantel has won the Man Booker Prize for her novel Bring Up the Bodies, a sequel to Wolf Hall, which follows Thomas Cromwell at the court of Henry VIII. Bring Up the Bodies details the Anne Boleyn scandal and her unhappy end. Ms. Mantel is one of two authors to have won the Man Booker Prize twice and the only woman to do so. This is a great testament to the power of fiction written well... and historical fiction at that. Hers is the only Tudor-esque novel out of the hundreds that exist that I want very badly to read.
- Ian McEwan, also a Booker Prize winner, has said recently that the novella is the perfect literary form. He might be right but that's quite a difficult thing to accomplish.
- NPR has a lovely article on the 60th anniversary of E.B. White's Charlotte's Web.
- National Novel Writing Month is coming up in November. Writer Unboxed has several posts on preparing for the project. I am considering participating in it this year, if only to maintain my sanity during this time of the Sisyphean synopsis. I think it would be a good way to churn out a first draft of a novel, intense though it may be.
- Publishers Marketplace had an article on Ann Patchett interviewing JK Rowling. One tidbit I found interesting: "I find that discussing an idea out loud is often the way to kill it stone dead. They all sound rubbish," she said. I find this to be particularly true. My ideas for stories or little nuances in my novel must be kept inside - let out too soon, even in private dialogue with oneself, and the idea evaporates or turns to dust.
Adventures in Logophilia Day 36: St. Luke's Summer (Jillian)
Today's word/phrase is...
According to Oxford Dictionaries, Saint Luke's summer (a British term) is a period of fine weather around the 18th of October, which is Saint Luke's feast day. I honestly don't remember how I came across this phrase, but it fascinates me... an older version of what we'd call "Indian summer." Especially in England and Europe where the days of the year were marked by saints' days and sundry feasts, this makes particular sense. It puts a new spin on the word lukewarm, as well.
It makes for an interesting metaphor - a little pocket of summer come to rest inside another season. For the last several days we've had a glorious St. Luke's summer: the leaves are golden, red, orange and purple, beautiful autumn, and yet temperatures climbed into the 80s. It was summer. I tend to enjoy these bizarre weather-fronts: the odd January days that reach the 60s or 70s and melt a month's worth of snow; the chilly, blustery fronts in July when we suddenly wonder where the oven of summer has gone. They're rogue summers and winters - visiting out of season but welcome guests nonetheless. I don't think it's as significant as climate change, but weather-change and weather-mood.
There is another version of Saint Luke's summer which is Saint Martin's summer, basically nice, warm weather around the 11th of November, the feast day of St. Martin of Tours.
Saint Luke's summer
According to Oxford Dictionaries, Saint Luke's summer (a British term) is a period of fine weather around the 18th of October, which is Saint Luke's feast day. I honestly don't remember how I came across this phrase, but it fascinates me... an older version of what we'd call "Indian summer." Especially in England and Europe where the days of the year were marked by saints' days and sundry feasts, this makes particular sense. It puts a new spin on the word lukewarm, as well.
It makes for an interesting metaphor - a little pocket of summer come to rest inside another season. For the last several days we've had a glorious St. Luke's summer: the leaves are golden, red, orange and purple, beautiful autumn, and yet temperatures climbed into the 80s. It was summer. I tend to enjoy these bizarre weather-fronts: the odd January days that reach the 60s or 70s and melt a month's worth of snow; the chilly, blustery fronts in July when we suddenly wonder where the oven of summer has gone. They're rogue summers and winters - visiting out of season but welcome guests nonetheless. I don't think it's as significant as climate change, but weather-change and weather-mood.
There is another version of Saint Luke's summer which is Saint Martin's summer, basically nice, warm weather around the 11th of November, the feast day of St. Martin of Tours.
Tuesday, October 16, 2012
The Sisyphean Synopsis (Jillian)
I mentioned Sisyphus this morning right? He was the man with the impossible task of rolling a boulder up a hill only to have it go rolling down again - eternal punishment for something he did to the chagrin of the gods.
Since I've completed my novel and intend to send it to agents - the starting point for any novelist hoping to publish - there have been the inevitable tasks to complete, ends to sew up tightly, advice to be read and heeded. It was quite a strange transition to make from one day being immersed in a world of words to the next when I was on my own again, orbiting that world instead of walking it. The tasks are writing the dreaded query letter and writing a synopsis. Ick. Double ick.
The query letter is a basic, basic, basic letter no more than one page long. It is the piece of writing one emails/mails to an agent, selling one's book in a matter of two (sometimes three) well-crafted paragraphs... in other words, just a handful of sentences to grab his/her attention. The first paragraph involves the hook sentence much like that on a book jacket that encapsulates the novel's story, essence and selling-potential in one go. The next paragraph is a slightly bigger expansion or synopsis of that hook paragraph. The third is a discussion of one's credentials. Etcetera.
Somehow I wrote it, rewrote it, embellished, pared down, expanded, pared down, cut, cut, cut, until the thing was the epitome of professional succinctness and naunce. It is not easy, I tell you, to "say more with less" but it can be done. After all, writing 125,000 words is a lot easier than 500 or 300: greater margin for error, for one thing. I think if one comes out of the process with a satisfactory query letter one doesn't mind showing to friends and complete strangers, one has grown as a writer.
The synopsis is my present onus. This is a 1-2 page summary of the book, written dryly with all the facts about the story more or less revealed in sequence. I didn't realize I needed one until I began to look at submission requirements to particular agencies and did a little subsequent research. Luckily, Chuck Sambuchino of Writer Unboxed posted some advice on this very thing months ago, of which I found helpful. One of the things I learned is that a synopsis is very important in genre fiction (sci-fi, fantasy, mystery, bla, bla) so that agents can easily follow whether or not one's novel has Acts I, III and III in the right places and in the right proportions. It makes perfect sense, and yet it seems hopelessly Sisyphean.
Of course, my novel is science fiction, and I realized there is no way around this thing. "One to two pages?" I asked aloud. No one heard but the cat, who thinks I'm a nut anyway. "Double spaced? How can I implode an entire 125,000 word novel into two pages?" The camel through the needle's eye... sort of...
When my panic wore off, I had to remind myself that I thought the exact same thing for the query. Then, the reaction had been, "An entire novel in one paragraph? Can't do it!" Obviously, I could and did, but it took me a while. I'm in the process of reminding myself that the synopsis is really just a bit bigger than the query itself, another expansion of the details presented in those little paragraphs. But slogging through it in the meantime is utter torture.
Advice to self (and others):
1.) Work on the synopsis a little every day, just like the query letter, then put it away and work on something else. The first versions will stink, but first drafts of anything usually do. If you don't have a first draft, how else can you write a better second draft and a good third draft?
2.) Patience. When I'm on roll - having just finished a project or otherwise blindsided with enthusiasm and overconfidence - I often get the delusion that I can send out the query letter or the entire submission inside of a week if I just work hard enough on it. This is unrealistic thinking. Better to take time on something like a query or a synopsis than to send something off that it is rough around the edges. Remember that you don't have a deadline yet. That will come later. Above all: no self-deprecations!
3.) Simplify, simplify, simplify, as Mr. Thoreau said.
4.) In the hours spent away from the query or synopsis, write something from the heart - get back into a routine. Otherwise, you may feel drained and blocked for no reason. Writing a query letter or a synopsis does not preclude you from going ahead with new stories. This is for your sanity.
5.) Read lots of advice on formatting, etc. Don't ignore it.
6.) Remember that you are doing this for your novel, your brainchild. It is worth the torture. And it might not nearly be as bad it seemed at the end.
All right. Back to the boulder up the hill...
Since I've completed my novel and intend to send it to agents - the starting point for any novelist hoping to publish - there have been the inevitable tasks to complete, ends to sew up tightly, advice to be read and heeded. It was quite a strange transition to make from one day being immersed in a world of words to the next when I was on my own again, orbiting that world instead of walking it. The tasks are writing the dreaded query letter and writing a synopsis. Ick. Double ick.
The query letter is a basic, basic, basic letter no more than one page long. It is the piece of writing one emails/mails to an agent, selling one's book in a matter of two (sometimes three) well-crafted paragraphs... in other words, just a handful of sentences to grab his/her attention. The first paragraph involves the hook sentence much like that on a book jacket that encapsulates the novel's story, essence and selling-potential in one go. The next paragraph is a slightly bigger expansion or synopsis of that hook paragraph. The third is a discussion of one's credentials. Etcetera.
Somehow I wrote it, rewrote it, embellished, pared down, expanded, pared down, cut, cut, cut, until the thing was the epitome of professional succinctness and naunce. It is not easy, I tell you, to "say more with less" but it can be done. After all, writing 125,000 words is a lot easier than 500 or 300: greater margin for error, for one thing. I think if one comes out of the process with a satisfactory query letter one doesn't mind showing to friends and complete strangers, one has grown as a writer.
The synopsis is my present onus. This is a 1-2 page summary of the book, written dryly with all the facts about the story more or less revealed in sequence. I didn't realize I needed one until I began to look at submission requirements to particular agencies and did a little subsequent research. Luckily, Chuck Sambuchino of Writer Unboxed posted some advice on this very thing months ago, of which I found helpful. One of the things I learned is that a synopsis is very important in genre fiction (sci-fi, fantasy, mystery, bla, bla) so that agents can easily follow whether or not one's novel has Acts I, III and III in the right places and in the right proportions. It makes perfect sense, and yet it seems hopelessly Sisyphean.
Of course, my novel is science fiction, and I realized there is no way around this thing. "One to two pages?" I asked aloud. No one heard but the cat, who thinks I'm a nut anyway. "Double spaced? How can I implode an entire 125,000 word novel into two pages?" The camel through the needle's eye... sort of...
When my panic wore off, I had to remind myself that I thought the exact same thing for the query. Then, the reaction had been, "An entire novel in one paragraph? Can't do it!" Obviously, I could and did, but it took me a while. I'm in the process of reminding myself that the synopsis is really just a bit bigger than the query itself, another expansion of the details presented in those little paragraphs. But slogging through it in the meantime is utter torture.
Advice to self (and others):
1.) Work on the synopsis a little every day, just like the query letter, then put it away and work on something else. The first versions will stink, but first drafts of anything usually do. If you don't have a first draft, how else can you write a better second draft and a good third draft?
2.) Patience. When I'm on roll - having just finished a project or otherwise blindsided with enthusiasm and overconfidence - I often get the delusion that I can send out the query letter or the entire submission inside of a week if I just work hard enough on it. This is unrealistic thinking. Better to take time on something like a query or a synopsis than to send something off that it is rough around the edges. Remember that you don't have a deadline yet. That will come later. Above all: no self-deprecations!
3.) Simplify, simplify, simplify, as Mr. Thoreau said.
4.) In the hours spent away from the query or synopsis, write something from the heart - get back into a routine. Otherwise, you may feel drained and blocked for no reason. Writing a query letter or a synopsis does not preclude you from going ahead with new stories. This is for your sanity.
5.) Read lots of advice on formatting, etc. Don't ignore it.
6.) Remember that you are doing this for your novel, your brainchild. It is worth the torture. And it might not nearly be as bad it seemed at the end.
All right. Back to the boulder up the hill...
Adventures in Logophilia Day 35: Niobe (jillian)
Today's word is...
In Greek mythology, Niobe (noun) was the daughter of Tantalus and the wife of Amphion, of whom Homer refers to in the Iliad. The gods punished her for an over abundance of pride (or hubris, which means "excessive self-pride or confidence" either in honor or in defiance of the gods... leading to a smack-down) with the deaths of her children.While weeping for her slain children she was turned into a stone from which her tears continue to flow.
Niobe turns up in metaphor the way that Sisyphus and Oedipus do, and we just can't remember where we've heard the name before. Homer did, of course, pack on the characters. Well, now we both know that any reference to Niobe implies sorrowful, eternal weeping.
In Greek mythology, Niobe (noun) was the daughter of Tantalus and the wife of Amphion, of whom Homer refers to in the Iliad. The gods punished her for an over abundance of pride (or hubris, which means "excessive self-pride or confidence" either in honor or in defiance of the gods... leading to a smack-down) with the deaths of her children.While weeping for her slain children she was turned into a stone from which her tears continue to flow.
Niobe turns up in metaphor the way that Sisyphus and Oedipus do, and we just can't remember where we've heard the name before. Homer did, of course, pack on the characters. Well, now we both know that any reference to Niobe implies sorrowful, eternal weeping.
Monday, October 15, 2012
Adventures in Logophilia Day 34: juvenescence (jillian)
Juvenescence (noun) is the state of being youthful or of growing young. My goal/resolution/mantra every birthday.
Adventures in Logophilia Day 33: brackish
The word for Day 33 is...
Something brackish (adjective) is described as either somewhat salty; or not appealing to the taste and therefore repulsive. This is the perfect word to describe the bread I made yesterday - 'twas brackish and wouldn't rise for the life of me, even though I followed the recipe in the bread-machine booklet. Naturally, the loaf went into the bin, and I was thirsty the rest of the evening.
Something brackish (adjective) is described as either somewhat salty; or not appealing to the taste and therefore repulsive. This is the perfect word to describe the bread I made yesterday - 'twas brackish and wouldn't rise for the life of me, even though I followed the recipe in the bread-machine booklet. Naturally, the loaf went into the bin, and I was thirsty the rest of the evening.
Adventures in Logophilia Day 32: pomaceous (Jillian)
The word for Day 32 on our logophiliac journey is...
Something pomaceous (adjective) is of or relates to apples... or resembling a pome (an apple). We've entered into a time of apples, all right. The only apple I can really stand these days is a Jonathan, perhaps because they are sweet in a way I don't find disgusting like a Gala or a Braeburn. Unfortunately, I've noticed, the worms like Jonathans, too.
Something pomaceous (adjective) is of or relates to apples... or resembling a pome (an apple). We've entered into a time of apples, all right. The only apple I can really stand these days is a Jonathan, perhaps because they are sweet in a way I don't find disgusting like a Gala or a Braeburn. Unfortunately, I've noticed, the worms like Jonathans, too.
Adventures in Logophilia Day 31: katzenjammer (Jillian)
The word for Day 31 is...
Katzenjammer (noun) is distress, depression or confusion resembling that caused by a hangover; a discordant clamor. It is a German word constructed of "cats" and "distress", so it could conceivably refer to the mess left behind by an overly curious cat longing for attention, as well as a pounding headache or a panic attack. Perhaps all three at once.
Thursday, October 11, 2012
Adventures in Logophilia Day 30: Anthropomorphic (jillian)
Today's word is...
Try saying that three times fast! Anthropomorphic (an adjective and proof that if you force yourself to write it out several times you will eventually learn to spell it properly) simply is an act of attributing human qualities to non-humans.
No one was better at this than Beatrix Potter. I grew up with tales of Tom Kitten, Peter Rabbit and Squirrel Nutkin - speaking, getting into trouble, trying to run away from home (and sometimes winding up victim to a family of kitten-hungry rats... roly poly roly...). It filled me with such joy when I heard Emma Thompson, actress and writer, came to write the further adventures of Peter Rabbit. On NPR today, there is an excerpt with illustrations of the new book, and it seems to be as charming as its predecessors. Please take a look!
anthropomorphic
Try saying that three times fast! Anthropomorphic (an adjective and proof that if you force yourself to write it out several times you will eventually learn to spell it properly) simply is an act of attributing human qualities to non-humans.
No one was better at this than Beatrix Potter. I grew up with tales of Tom Kitten, Peter Rabbit and Squirrel Nutkin - speaking, getting into trouble, trying to run away from home (and sometimes winding up victim to a family of kitten-hungry rats... roly poly roly...). It filled me with such joy when I heard Emma Thompson, actress and writer, came to write the further adventures of Peter Rabbit. On NPR today, there is an excerpt with illustrations of the new book, and it seems to be as charming as its predecessors. Please take a look!
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
Adventures in Logophilia Day 27, 28, 29 (Jillian)
It has been a crazy handful of days, so we're playing catch-up here at Daedalus Notes. So... here are three words for today to fill in the days:
Day 27. A cabal (noun, pronounced ka-BAL) is a secret clique or faction (sometimes political) trying to overturn something or have their own way. I attribute this word to Michelle, as she used it several times during our visit. Beware cabals for those in them may not be aware they are cabalists (which is now a word, sort-of-rhyming with "catalysts", and therefore can also be spelled "cabalysts."). They may be lurking in unsuspecting places. They may be the reason for your inexplicable stomach aches or back pains.
Day 28. Something pluvial (an adjective) relates to or is characterized by rainfall; it is ultimately from the Latin word "pluvia" for rain. Yes, we had our rainy days aplenty in New England this last week. Michelle and I spent a few afternoons huddled by the light-box, drinking tea.
Day 29. A mackerel sky (noun) occurs when the sky is dappled with rows of small, white fleecy clouds (cirrocumulus), a pattern which resembles the spots on a mackerel's back. I saw such a sky when Michelle and I were on the boat after seeing whales, heading back into Gloucester, a testament to the near-perfect weather we experienced that day. Whales, mackerel-clouds, water painted silver in the sunwash. What more could one ask for?
And a whimsy for today. The great Salman Rushdie, whose autobiographical work Joseph Anton was published recently, was quoted commenting on Fifty Shades of Grey in the Telegraph: "It made Twilight look like War and Peace." I laughed.
cabal
Day 27. A cabal (noun, pronounced ka-BAL) is a secret clique or faction (sometimes political) trying to overturn something or have their own way. I attribute this word to Michelle, as she used it several times during our visit. Beware cabals for those in them may not be aware they are cabalists (which is now a word, sort-of-rhyming with "catalysts", and therefore can also be spelled "cabalysts."). They may be lurking in unsuspecting places. They may be the reason for your inexplicable stomach aches or back pains.
pluvial
Day 28. Something pluvial (an adjective) relates to or is characterized by rainfall; it is ultimately from the Latin word "pluvia" for rain. Yes, we had our rainy days aplenty in New England this last week. Michelle and I spent a few afternoons huddled by the light-box, drinking tea.
mackerel sky
Day 29. A mackerel sky (noun) occurs when the sky is dappled with rows of small, white fleecy clouds (cirrocumulus), a pattern which resembles the spots on a mackerel's back. I saw such a sky when Michelle and I were on the boat after seeing whales, heading back into Gloucester, a testament to the near-perfect weather we experienced that day. Whales, mackerel-clouds, water painted silver in the sunwash. What more could one ask for?
***
And a whimsy for today. The great Salman Rushdie, whose autobiographical work Joseph Anton was published recently, was quoted commenting on Fifty Shades of Grey in the Telegraph: "It made Twilight look like War and Peace." I laughed.
Sunday, October 7, 2012
Adventures in Logophilia Day 26: fluke (Jillian)
Today's word is...
fluke
A fluke (noun) is many things: (1) an unlikely chance occurrence, (2) a parasitic flat worm (ew); or (3) a triangular plate on the arm of an anchor, or either of the lobes on a whale's tail.
Guess which one I saw yesterday:
I think I saw fluke 1 and 3 yesterday: a chance happening and a whale's tail. Aren't they the same thing? I think so.
Saturday, October 6, 2012
Adventures in Logophilia Day 25: Frisson
Today's word is:
I am currently experiencing a frisson (noun, pronounced FREE-zon), which is a French term for a sudden strong feeling of excitement or fear, a thrill. We are going on a whale watch today. That's pretty thrilling, I'd say, for a girl from the prairie, who has seen more buffalo than whales in her lifetime. Coming to the ocean itself is always a new experience, like being on the edge of the world and knowing there is an entirely new environment with new creatures out there to discover by catamaran, kayak or tourist boat. I've seen dolphins off the Gulf Coast of Florida and patted sting rays in Boston. There is nothing like this new-world thrill.
I am currently experiencing a frisson (noun, pronounced FREE-zon), which is a French term for a sudden strong feeling of excitement or fear, a thrill. We are going on a whale watch today. That's pretty thrilling, I'd say, for a girl from the prairie, who has seen more buffalo than whales in her lifetime. Coming to the ocean itself is always a new experience, like being on the edge of the world and knowing there is an entirely new environment with new creatures out there to discover by catamaran, kayak or tourist boat. I've seen dolphins off the Gulf Coast of Florida and patted sting rays in Boston. There is nothing like this new-world thrill.
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