This is the reason I love Twitter. How else would I find out about little jewels like this one? Neil Gaiman answers questions as part of a panel discussion on 1 December at the CT Youth Forum's Student-Roundtable Discussion. A student asks how she should take the comment "there are enough artists in the world," and Mr. Gaiman gives the best advice for an artist to hear. These words of encouragement made my day.
Thursday, December 6, 2012
AIL Day 86: quaint
Today's adventure in logophilia is
Quaint is another Britishism (I do love those) meaning "attractively unusual or old-fashioned."
Though I like to think of this as a compliment, it can also be used as an insult. I remember venturing to the east coast to visit Michelle and observing that all the tall multistory houses were rather quaint. Michelle turned to me and said, "You meant that in a nice way, didn't you?" If you're a fan of Sherlock, I know I've heard it in there as an insult insinuating: "Oh, isn't that quaint? Aren't you silly and simple-minded? What a tiny brain you have." Funny how the same word can have two faces.
quaint
Quaint is another Britishism (I do love those) meaning "attractively unusual or old-fashioned."
Though I like to think of this as a compliment, it can also be used as an insult. I remember venturing to the east coast to visit Michelle and observing that all the tall multistory houses were rather quaint. Michelle turned to me and said, "You meant that in a nice way, didn't you?" If you're a fan of Sherlock, I know I've heard it in there as an insult insinuating: "Oh, isn't that quaint? Aren't you silly and simple-minded? What a tiny brain you have." Funny how the same word can have two faces.
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
AIL Day 85: tetralogy
Today's adventure in logophilia is
tetralogy
A tetralogy is a series of four connected literary, artistic or musical works. The Twilight series is a tetralogy. I've also been tempted to make my current science fiction endeavors into a tetralogy (instead of a trilogy) just so that I can use this word in conversation. Bad reason to write a novel or to drag out a series? I don't know. We'll see what the novels want to do.
AIL Day 84: ken
The adventure in logophilia for 4 December is/was
Ken is a noun meaning the range of vision, perception, understanding or knowledge; sight or view. According to Oxford Dictionaries, this word is often seen in Northern English and Scottish dialects, meaning "know" or "identify."
ken
Ken is a noun meaning the range of vision, perception, understanding or knowledge; sight or view. According to Oxford Dictionaries, this word is often seen in Northern English and Scottish dialects, meaning "know" or "identify."
Monday, December 3, 2012
AIL Day 83: gainsay
Today's adventure in logophilia is
Gainsay is a verb meaning to deny or dispute, to speak against, to contradict or contravene, impugn or negate. This is a skill of which I am lacking, at least aloud. Strange how my characters can debate and quarrel on paper, however. They're stronger than I am. Why is that?
gainsay
Gainsay is a verb meaning to deny or dispute, to speak against, to contradict or contravene, impugn or negate. This is a skill of which I am lacking, at least aloud. Strange how my characters can debate and quarrel on paper, however. They're stronger than I am. Why is that?
Sunday, December 2, 2012
AIL Day 82: advent
Today is the first day of
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.
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 81: wellspring
Sorry for the delay, my friends. Christmas has begun, which means I've begun to while away my hours in the kitchen with steamed puddings and cookies... among other sundry projects.
Our adventure in logophilia for 1 December is/was...
A wellspring is a source of continual supply. It's another of those awesome image-words immediately pointing us towards a spring of fresh water and well that taps into that water. It lasts virtually forever (or at least a long time) and provides a means of quenching our thirst. This is a good feeling.
Our adventure in logophilia for 1 December is/was...
wellspring
A wellspring is a source of continual supply. It's another of those awesome image-words immediately pointing us towards a spring of fresh water and well that taps into that water. It lasts virtually forever (or at least a long time) and provides a means of quenching our thirst. This is a good feeling.
Friday, November 30, 2012
AIL Day 80: jiggery-pokery
Today's adventure in logophilia is
This is British term for dishonest or suspicious activity; or your basic nonsense, hocus-pocus, higgeldy-piggeldy. It's puckish sound gives away its meaning... Puck sitting in a tree throwing something at you.
jiggery-pokery
This is British term for dishonest or suspicious activity; or your basic nonsense, hocus-pocus, higgeldy-piggeldy. It's puckish sound gives away its meaning... Puck sitting in a tree throwing something at you.
Thursday, November 29, 2012
AIL Day 79: incunabulum
The adventure in logophilia for today, this penultimate day of November, is...
Try saying that three times fast. This special word is a noun referring to 1.) a book printed before 1501, which was at the very dawn of the printing press, and 2.) a work of art or of industry of an early period. This gem is from the Latin incunabula, meaning "swaddling clothes."
incunabulum
Try saying that three times fast. This special word is a noun referring to 1.) a book printed before 1501, which was at the very dawn of the printing press, and 2.) a work of art or of industry of an early period. This gem is from the Latin incunabula, meaning "swaddling clothes."
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
AIL Day 78: dither
Today's adventure in logophilia is
A dither is a highly nervous, excited or agitated state.
dither
A dither is a highly nervous, excited or agitated state.
Tuesday, November 27, 2012
AIL Day 77: verglas
Today's adventure in logophilia is
Verglas is a thin coating of ice or frozen rain on an exposed surface, from the French verre (glass) and glas/glace (ice). Did you find any of this mysterious stuff on your car this frigid morning? I know I did!
verglas
Verglas is a thin coating of ice or frozen rain on an exposed surface, from the French verre (glass) and glas/glace (ice). Did you find any of this mysterious stuff on your car this frigid morning? I know I did!
Monday, November 26, 2012
Wending to Winter
We had flurries for the first time this season! Granted, the snow managed to stick to only a few surfaces before melting away, but winter definitely gave us a taste of its power today. I enjoyed the blustery winds (even though my ears were seriously too cold) and the crisp smell in the air. I don't enjoy it because of the inevitable Christmas tones that are blaring from every radio in every store right now - Advent does not begin until Sunday, after all. In fact, I find myself looking forward to winter with a wild enthusiasm: the mercy of a warm, cozy place to return to after a walk in the cold; projects to keep me busy; queries to send. For some reason, I'm finding creative energy in the cold and musing on unexpected things. And that, my friends, is a good sign. I'm not saying that winter will be perfect this year (when is it ever?) but it is more than bearable. Here are just a few reasons:
 |
| Snowflakes on autumn-purple leaves. |
 |
| Snowflakes on autumn-crimson leaves. |
 |
| Berries and limestone. |
 |
| Cherries in macro. |
 |
| Another snow-kissed plant. |
AIL Day 76: boffin
Today's adventure in logophilia is
boffin
Boffin (noun) is a British term for a scientific expert, especially one involved in (but not limited to) technological research. In other words, an enthusiastic nerd. We're all boffins about something, believe me. Life is better that way.
Sunday, November 25, 2012
AIL Day 75: factotum
Today's adventure in logophilia
A factotum (noun) is a person employed to do all kinds of work or business - a jack of all trades in an office setting.
factotum
A factotum (noun) is a person employed to do all kinds of work or business - a jack of all trades in an office setting.
AIL Day 74: surfeit
Saturday's adventure in logophilia is
A surfeit (noun) is an excessive amount, a glut, more than enough. This term definitely applies to the 22 pound turkey my mother cooked for Thanksgiving... for five people. Of course, when your goal is not simply Thanksgiving dinner but leftovers turned into casseroles and soups, the surfeit doesn't go to waste, does it? I have enough for a third meal tomorrow.
surfeit
A surfeit (noun) is an excessive amount, a glut, more than enough. This term definitely applies to the 22 pound turkey my mother cooked for Thanksgiving... for five people. Of course, when your goal is not simply Thanksgiving dinner but leftovers turned into casseroles and soups, the surfeit doesn't go to waste, does it? I have enough for a third meal tomorrow.
Friday, November 23, 2012
AIL Day 73: lashings
Today's adventure in logophilia is
Lashings (n) are copious amounts of something, especially food and drink. No doubt it will take us days to eat through through our lashings of Thanksgiving leftovers.
lashings
Lashings (n) are copious amounts of something, especially food and drink. No doubt it will take us days to eat through through our lashings of Thanksgiving leftovers.
AIL Day 72: nubbin
The 72nd adventure in logophilia is
Nubbin is a noun: a small lump or residual part of something.
nubbin
Nubbin is a noun: a small lump or residual part of something.
Wednesday, November 21, 2012
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
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.
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.
Tuesday, November 20, 2012
AIL Day 70: carapace
Today's adventure in logophilia is...
A carapace is a protective case or shell on the back of some animals (as turtles or crabs.)
I've entered the stage where I realize the trial of trying to get one's novel published - making that transition from it being a private story to a public read - is a matter of building up one's carapace, putting on a suit of armor, becoming more pachyderm (choose whichever metaphors best suits you) in how we present ourselves to the world. And I don't use carapace or pachyderm to mean "calloused" or "insensitive" as definitions of the latter would put it... I mean it in the "thick skin" sense. We'll always be sensitive to criticism and rejection, especially when it comes to our brain-children, but we learn how to withstand it, use it and move on from it.
The rejections have begun for me. Granted we're only on the second agency on my list, and there is a long winter ahead of me. I was sad about it last night, and then came to the multi-faceted realization that 1.) I have a greater respect for the literary agents who sift through piles upon piles of query letters every week - how is it their fault if my novel doesn't stand out to them in the brief flash of a query? And how is it mine? It is a simple matter of the interests of two human beings not aligning exactly, not matching. It's a very human, subjective business. Of course, it is going to take a while to find a person (because agencies are organization made of people who are called agents) who wants to run with it. One rejection isn't the End of All Things, just the beginning of the road.
2.) All this worrying about whether or not my novel needs another rewrite is a bit silly. Suppose I do need to put it through another wash? Will it take so very long? Is it beyond my power? No. In fact, it is quite doable. It's just another step. The state of my novel can't be the reason for a rejection if an agent hasn't read beyond the query.
3.) A professor-friend of mine shared her mantra with me, "Living well is the best revenge." I've heard this everywhere this week: "make the agent that rejected you regret having turned you down." I wouldn't personally go so far, but the point is there: don't let this stop you; let this fuel your creative fire; take criticism, listen to it, apply it where it makes sense, ignore it where it does not. There. If this novel doesn't make it to publication, something will eventually. In the meantime, my job is to write.
4.) This feels so much better than applying to an MFA program. I feel sad for a while, but then I can move onto the next agent. I don't have to stare ahead at a wasted year. I don't have to regret the months I wasted on useless essays and personal statements, trying to sell myself to a university. I can continue on as I've been doing: endeavoring to write well, and see where it takes me. There is no greater relief.
carapace
A carapace is a protective case or shell on the back of some animals (as turtles or crabs.)
I've entered the stage where I realize the trial of trying to get one's novel published - making that transition from it being a private story to a public read - is a matter of building up one's carapace, putting on a suit of armor, becoming more pachyderm (choose whichever metaphors best suits you) in how we present ourselves to the world. And I don't use carapace or pachyderm to mean "calloused" or "insensitive" as definitions of the latter would put it... I mean it in the "thick skin" sense. We'll always be sensitive to criticism and rejection, especially when it comes to our brain-children, but we learn how to withstand it, use it and move on from it.
The rejections have begun for me. Granted we're only on the second agency on my list, and there is a long winter ahead of me. I was sad about it last night, and then came to the multi-faceted realization that 1.) I have a greater respect for the literary agents who sift through piles upon piles of query letters every week - how is it their fault if my novel doesn't stand out to them in the brief flash of a query? And how is it mine? It is a simple matter of the interests of two human beings not aligning exactly, not matching. It's a very human, subjective business. Of course, it is going to take a while to find a person (because agencies are organization made of people who are called agents) who wants to run with it. One rejection isn't the End of All Things, just the beginning of the road.
2.) All this worrying about whether or not my novel needs another rewrite is a bit silly. Suppose I do need to put it through another wash? Will it take so very long? Is it beyond my power? No. In fact, it is quite doable. It's just another step. The state of my novel can't be the reason for a rejection if an agent hasn't read beyond the query.
3.) A professor-friend of mine shared her mantra with me, "Living well is the best revenge." I've heard this everywhere this week: "make the agent that rejected you regret having turned you down." I wouldn't personally go so far, but the point is there: don't let this stop you; let this fuel your creative fire; take criticism, listen to it, apply it where it makes sense, ignore it where it does not. There. If this novel doesn't make it to publication, something will eventually. In the meantime, my job is to write.
4.) This feels so much better than applying to an MFA program. I feel sad for a while, but then I can move onto the next agent. I don't have to stare ahead at a wasted year. I don't have to regret the months I wasted on useless essays and personal statements, trying to sell myself to a university. I can continue on as I've been doing: endeavoring to write well, and see where it takes me. There is no greater relief.
Monday, November 19, 2012
AIL Day 69: puckish
Today's adventure in logophilia is
Puckish (adjective) means impish or whimsical; playful - especially in a mischevious way. Taken, of course, from the mythological fairy Robin Goodfellow, an Old English/Celtic "puca." You may remember him from Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream. Depictions of him have him resembling a faun (Mr. Tumnus) or a satyr with a goat's hooves and long, pointed ears (eyebrows to match). I love this word, because I envision puck sitting in a tree with a wink and a grin to rival Peter Pan's.
puckish
Puckish (adjective) means impish or whimsical; playful - especially in a mischevious way. Taken, of course, from the mythological fairy Robin Goodfellow, an Old English/Celtic "puca." You may remember him from Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream. Depictions of him have him resembling a faun (Mr. Tumnus) or a satyr with a goat's hooves and long, pointed ears (eyebrows to match). I love this word, because I envision puck sitting in a tree with a wink and a grin to rival Peter Pan's.
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