Launching the Novel (j)

Here goes... I emailed my novel to the first agent on my list today, so wish me luck that this process is off to a kind start.  We are in for a winter of waiting and writing.  From what I've gathered, it will more than likely take a long, long time to find an agent 1.) willing to look at the manuscript, 2.) willing to represent it, 3.) able to publish it.  This is an exercise in patience, not futility. 

I'll let you know how I'm feeling about it later on! Keep writing, I've heard.  Keep writing.  This should be a no-brainer in any situation, but it has become my mantra.  I'm clinging to it like a lifeline, all limbs, fingers and toes.  Thanks for clinging with me.

Adventures in Logophilia Day 57: oeuvre (j)

Today's word is...

oeuvre

Pronounced 'uh-vruh, oeuvre (noun) is from the French literally meaning "work".  In literature we use it to mean a substantial body of work - the lifework of a writer or a composer.  A fancy word for portfolio or perhaps even repertoire. 

Adventures in Logophilia Day 56: silly season (j)

I couldn't resist.  Today's word is...

silly season

A silly season is a period of time (particularly late summer) when the mass media often focus on trivial or silly matters for lack of major news, or, more generally, a period marked by frivolous, outlandish or illogical activity or behavior.  Cough, cough, politics, cough.

Today is election day, which means we've been in a silly season for countless weeks... counting down to the poles, pitting Candidate A against Candidate B (and vice versa), mud slung here, mud smeared there.  I imagine bread and circuses, a junior high cafeteria food fight, or revels to rival (hee hee) Carnivale.  It has been exhausting, and I am quite eager for today's "festivities" to be over at last.

***

I hope you don't take this post as indifference to election day.  No, actually, it's very important.  This is free speech at work!  Please vote.  Take it seriously.  The silly season is the meaningless part of the election - the day to day predictions and the analyzing of rhetorical minutiae.  Today is the day that matters, when the candidates quiet down and we have our say.  Good luck!

Adventures in Logophilia Day 55: Guy Fawkes Day (j)

Today's phrase is...

Guy Fawkes Day

... or Bonfire Night

Yes, another Britishism.  If you've seen V for Vendetta, you'll have heard "remember, remember the fifth of November, the Gunpowder treason and plot..."  In 1605, Guy Fawkes was one of a group of anarchists arrested for a plot to assassinate James I of England for not promoting greater tolerance for Catholic practices in England.  He was caught guarding 36 barrels of gunpowder under the House of Lords.  James I had only been king of England for less than two years.  The plotters were arrested and later executed (hanged, drawn and quartered) for treason.  Effigies of Fawkes were burnt around this time, remembering the event-that-wasn't - a chilling anti-Catholic practice.  These days, effigies of celebrities and detested politicos are burnt instead. 

This is a very elementary explanation of the Gunpowder Plot.  (I've had a lot of interruptions this morning.) When I went to England and learned about the bonfires, I thought it was a fun post-Halloween autumn celebration.  Then, I learned about its cruel history in post-Reformation England and changed my mind. 

Adventures in Logophilia Day 54: vim (j)

The word for 4 November is...

vim

Vim (a noun) simply means energy and enthusiasm.

Adventures in Logophilia Day 53: twee (j)

The word for 3 November was/is...

twee

Twee is a British expression, an adjective, meaning affectedly or excessively dainty, delicate, quaint or cute.

On the Mend (j)

You may have noticed my absence from the blog these last several days.  I was out with stomach bug and nausea, so... you understand now how concentrating on words and writing can be a little difficult.  Sometimes, as a friend just pointed out to me, the body demands rest.  It doesn't ask permission.  It doesn't need a reason.  

I'm looking at this as another good reason for deciding not to participate in National Novel Writing Month.  If I had set my heart on the project, only to find myself laid up in bed with saltines and Netflix and unable to do much else, I would have been set back before I even started.  Let's face it.  Writing 1,667 words in a day (to acheive the ultimate goal of 50,000 at the end of the month) is no small feat.  Besides, what about Thanksgiving and Christmas?  Sure, they're not here yet, but I'm not waiting till December to start on my Christmas presents.  And... I'm getting ready to start sending my novel and sundry query materials to agents.  I have a back log of old papers that need to be scanned and shredded (no, never really finished that old project).  I have a full plate whether I want to admit it or not.

Under other circumstances perhaps NaNoWriMo would have worked for me.  I've heard it's a great way to churn out that awful first draft of a novel, and thousands are participating.  People are writing!  That's phenomenal!  So, if you happen to be in the midst of your NaNo work, good luck to you.  We are cheering you on!  Happy writing!

***

The words will return shortly. 

Adventures in Logophilia Day 52: lambent (j)

Today's word is...

lambent

Something that is lambent (adjective) is characterized as flickering or softly radiant, marked by brilliance or lightness, effulgence, incandescence, or luminosity. 

Adventures in Logophilia Day 51: sylph (j)

Day 51:

sylph

A sylph (noun) is an imaginary beeing inhabiting the air, or a slender graceful woman.  More specifically, it hails from Paracelus, German-Swiss scientist and Renaissance man in the mid-1500s, who theorized about elemental beings inhabiting the air.  According to Ye Olde Wiky-paedia, he was the "father of toxicology."

Disney Buys Star Wars (j)

In case you haven't heard, the Twitter-sphere and the internet in general is abuzz with the jaw-dropping news that George Lucas has decided to retire, and has handed over the reins of his multi-million dollar baby Star Wars to - yes, you heard correctly - Disney.  The opinions vary, and I myself am nothing but skeptical about this change... and the supposed plans to create "episodes" 7, 8 and 9 in the next decade or so.  I'll reserve actual judgment when the details come out.  Otherwise, I hope Mr. Lucas enjoys his retirement. 

Leia Organa contemplates change in The Empire Strikes Back.

Adventures in Logophilia Day 50: el chupacabra (j)

Happy Halloween!  Today's spooky word is...

El chupacabra (noun) is an animal said to exist in parts of Latin America - particularly Puero Rico - where it supposedly attacks animals, especially goats and drains them of blood.  The word literally means "goat sucker" in Spanish. This was the "monster of the week" in the 4th season of The X-Files entitled "El Mundo Gira," and became a dry joke between Mulder and Scully in later episodes.   According to Ye Olde Wiky-paedia, this legend/mystery emerged in 1995 in PR, killing goats and sheep, and has been "seen" in random locations in the US ever since: about the size of a bear with spines along its back.  Some "witnesses" describe it similiarly to an alien in the movie Species.  It's existence (like Bigfoot and his contemporaries) has never been confirmed.

Adventures in Logophilia Day 49: fell (j)

Today's Halloweenish word is...

Fell (an adjective) is a semi-archaic word that means fierce, cruel, terrible, sinister and malevolent.  It can also mean sharp or pungent (I'm assuming on terms of odors.)  I first heard this word when I saw The Fellowship of the Ring, only I didn't know it at the time.  The Fellowship attempts to climb the mountains over Moria, and Saruman is thwarting their progress by means of sorcery and chants.  Legolas percieves that something is amiss and says "There is a fell voice on the air."  Only at the time, I thought he said "There is a foul voice on the air," which seems just as appropriate.  I don't think I realized the different until I actually read the book. 

A fell is also a noun meaning a high barren field or moor, such as this one.  This picture was taken in North Yorkshire on Skipton Moor.

Wisdom from Yesteryear (j & m)

I am perusing the Daedalus posts of yesteryear, and have come across an old post Michelle wrote almost four years ago on the dangers of not writing and striving to appease the inner artist child.  Otherwise, you might turn into the Hulk. Para-paraphrase, of course.  She put it far more articulately. I find my rediscovery of this to be quite apt as I've not had proper write time in a while - thanks the Sturm un Drang of this month and various synopsis things.  (Excuses excuses.)   Please read. 

Adventures in Logophilia Day 48: bete noire (j)

Today's word is...

A bete noire (noun, meaning "black beast" in French) is a person or thing strongly disliked or feared.  It could be the candidate you don't want for President.  It could be the cat lurking around the corner, ready to pounce (in our house, we call this special kind of bete noire the "furtive beast").  It could be a thing of deeper nightmares. It is anything and everything that could possibly be out to get you, hold you down, giggling as you struggle.  Perhaps in that cornfield with the eyeshine.


 

Adventures in Logophilia Day 47: necropolis (j)

The word for day 47 is...

A necropolis (noun) is a fancy (possibily euphemistic) word for a cemetery, particularly a large cemetery in an ancient city.  I rather tend to compare the structure of this word to "metropolis" and "cosmopolis"... and "city of the dead" comes to mind.  Creepy because, if you think about it, that is exactly what a cemetery is: a community of dead people.  It makes me want to read The Graveyard Book again. Never has there been a more charming necropolis than in Neil Gaiman's book.

Adventures in Logophilia Day 46: moonset (j)

The word for day 46 is...

Moonset (noun) is the setting of the moon below the horizon.  Indicating that the ghosts, goblins and vampires have gone to bed. 

This word has particular poetry to it - a realization that it's not just the sun that rises and sets.  In the Doctor Who episode "Smith and Jones", the Doctor and Martha team up when the hospital they're in is transported inexplicably to the moon.  At one point the Doctor marvels; they are standing in the "earth light."  How beautiful a simple change of perspective can be.

Adventures in Logophilia Day 45: eyeshine (j)

Today's word is...

Eyeshine (noun) is the reflection of light from the inner surface of the eye through the pupil, giving the eye a luminous appearance, especially in cats.  This is an affect of something called the tapetum lucidum (meaning "bright tapestry" in the Latin), which is a layer of tissue found directly behind or sometimes within the retina.  Humans do not have eyeshine.  But wouldn't it be super creepy if they did?  So here's your warning - if when out in this most haunted of seasons trick-or-treating or wandering a cornfield and you happen to spot a human with glowing eyes... it's probably not human.  Run! 

Adventures in Logophilia Day 44: golem (j)

Today's sort of creepy word is...

A golem is an element of Jewish folklore in which a clay figure is brought to life by magic.  According to Ye Olde Wiky-paedia, the first reference for a golem comes from Psalm 139:16 "my unshaped form."  Golems have been formed supposedly for defense or menial tasks, a creature made of mud with holy words etched into its forehead or around its neck, which once taken away will reduce the creature to dust.  I came across this term in two places: Sherlock and The X-Files.  In "Kaddish" an episode in the fourth season of The X-Files, Mulder and Scully investigate mysterious happenings in a Hasidic community, murders that can only be attributed to the golem-esque reincarnation of a dead man.    In the first series of Sherlock, "The Great Game" a serial killer - a giant of a man with laptodactylic features and superhuman strength - referred to as a "golem" is a component of Moriarty's web of crime.  Great name for a villain, huh?

Adventures in Logophilia Day 43: skullduggery (j)

Today's word is...

skullduggery

At first glance, I would have said that skullduggery probably had something to do with "digging up skulls" but not according to the Lexicon.  Skullduggery (noun) is a word for crafty deception or trickery.  Body-switching, perhaps? 

Adventures in Logophilia Day 42: gloaming (j)

Today's word is...

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.