Jejune

Adventures in Logophilia, Day 183:

jejune

This adjective describes something that is lacking in any sort of nutritive value, or (aside from food) without significance or interest, or something that is generally simplistic, naive or superficially rendered.  This is from the Latin jejunus, meaning "barren or fasting".  Somewhere along the line this came to mean "not intellectually nourishing." (Oxford Dictionaries)

It's important to be conscious of how we're feeding ourselves intellectually, because that will feed into the writing we produce.  The things we read - from novels to newspaper articles to tweets - can either amount to tons of cake or a bowl of highly nutritious blueberries.  Too much television is comparable to a surfeit of caffeine. Are we going for the superficial and the sugary or the vitamins and antioxidants?  Are we learning?  Or are we merely being entertained?  Are we energized or left feeling tired?  Believe me, I struggle with these things all the time.

Blueberries are better than cake.

I've learned that staying intellectually healthy may include:

• Not letting Twitter run your writing life.
• Reading "new" things - books and stories outside of the comfort zone, whatever that may mean.
• Getting off the internet (ahem, Pinterest) and the computer and basking in some quiet time.
• Taking walks without the aid of an iPod soundtrack.
• Reducing caffeine intake.  
• Keeping a journal and writing by hand (to maintain tactile connections between the act of writing and the connections made in the brain).
• Watching television sparingly.  I don't believe that television is completely bad for us, because it is an alternate form of storytelling... although I find it is not very helpful on terms of craft.  Nothing clears the brain faster after a stressful day than losing oneself in an episode or two of something that makes me wonder about life.
• Getting out of the chair.  We tend to work best planted in a sedentary fashion - there really is no way around that.  But getting up and moving around pushes blood into the brain and keeps us thinking.  Do it!
• Sleep!

Microcosm

Adventures in Logophilia, Day 182:

microcosm

A little world, especially: the human race or human nature seen as an epitome of the world at large or the universe.  Generally, a microcosm is a small community or other unity that in some way mirrors a larger society.  I prefer focusing on microcosms rather than macrocosms.  The microcosm is the immediate setting, the macrocosm would be the era, the year and the country (or planet) in which the story unfolds. 

snow globe = microcosm

Volant

Adventures in Logophilia, Day 181:

volant

This adjective means having the wings extended as if in flight, like a heraldic bird; generally used to describe something flying or capable of flight, or simply quick and nimble - metaphorically, moving as if flying.  This is from the Latin verb volare, to fly.

juvenile least tern in flight by mike forsman

Blackthorn Winter

Adventures in Logophilia, Day 180:

blackthorn winter

Generally, a blackthorn winter is a spell of cold weather at the time of early spring when the blackthorn trees are in bloom.  Though it is not officially spring, we are right on the cusp.  March is that odd time of year when anything can happen with the weather.  Yesterday, temperatures climbed to 60 degrees and I took a breezy walk in the sunshine.  It was warm enough that I had to take off my sweater.  Spring was definitely in the air.  Then, this morning I woke up to discover a world transformed from muddy, nascent spring to blustery, white winter.  The robins seem mightily confused.  But this is a good omen, methinks, for a wet spring and a greener summer to follow.

snow crocus by corbeau du nord

 

Sprite

Adventures in Logophilia, Day 179:

sprite

A sprite is an elf or a fairy, an Middle English warp of the word spirit.  The word has also come to refer to flashes of red light in the atmosphere during thunderstorms as electrons clash with other high-energy molecules.  This is related to spright, an alternative spelling.  Someone who is described as sprightly is spirited, vivacious and cheerful lightness about them.  I find March to be quite sprightly, delightfully so after another (inevitably) gray February.

Adumbrate

Adventures in Logophilia, Day 178:

adumbrate

to give off a faint shadow or slight representation of something.  In writing, this is an outline we write out for ourselves to guide the way through a novel, and also the technique of foreshadowing events to come.  This is an art - the ability to intimate by overshadowing, to shed light on other things by putting all the distractions in shadow, to draw what's important out into the light.  A little meta, no?

Coif

Adventures in Logophilia, Day 177:

coif

A girl from Breton (France) wearing a traditional coif.

James Holland.

A coif is a woman's close-fitting cap, now only worn by nuns underneath their veils.  It was also the term for the skullcap men would wear with their armor in battle.  In America, coif is short for coiffure, which means one's particular hairstyle.  

Coifs in general fascinate me.  I went through phases as a kid where I wore a knitted beret over my hair most of the time - not just because I was trying to grow my hair out and thought it looked gross, but because the hat looked cool.  And, you know, it did have the shape of one of those coifs worn by the kitchen staff in Downton Abbey.