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.
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 (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.
Sunday, November 18, 2012
AIL Day 68: sundry
Today's adventure in logophilia is
Yes, sundry on Sunday. We must take as many opportunities to pun as humanly possible! Anyway, sundry is an attributive adjective meaning, simply: of various kinds or several. Sundries are items not important enough to be listed out separately; Oxford Dictionaries uses the example of things to be found in the check out line at the drug store. This is both archaic and trendy, methinks, but will never quite die out. I hope it doesn't; it's rather cool... in a nerdy sort of way.
sundry
Yes, sundry on Sunday. We must take as many opportunities to pun as humanly possible! Anyway, sundry is an attributive adjective meaning, simply: of various kinds or several. Sundries are items not important enough to be listed out separately; Oxford Dictionaries uses the example of things to be found in the check out line at the drug store. This is both archaic and trendy, methinks, but will never quite die out. I hope it doesn't; it's rather cool... in a nerdy sort of way.
Saturday, November 17, 2012
AIL Day 67: tantamount
Today's adventure in logophilia is...
Tantamount (an adjective) means "equivalent in value, significance or effect." In other words, "equal to."
tantamount
Tantamount (an adjective) means "equivalent in value, significance or effect." In other words, "equal to."
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