AIL Day 94: ephemera

Today's adventure in logophilia is

ephemera

Ephemera is a plural noun for things that exist or are used or enjoyed for only a short, fleeting time.  To which she says, philosophically, are not all things ephemeral or fleeting?  Does that not make life all the more beautiful?

AIL Day 93: congeries

Today's adventure in logophilia is

congeries

Congeries is a collective noun meaning "a disorderly collection or jumble."  This is taken from the Latin verb congerere "to heap up." 

This word best describes Christmas preparations - the intentions, the results, the mess in my room.  I cheer myself up by imagining that Santa's workshop is a terrible disaster (the mess!) and Christmas' best keep secret.  There's a reality television show for you: overworked elves who complain of constant foot pain due to long hours and the shoes they have to wear; piles of discarded toy parts; the floor a definite hazard with tinsel and glitter and glue everywhere; not to mention the reindeer leavings; interviews with the elves who maintain Santa's sleigh: "you wouldn't believe the mileage on this thing..."

AIL Day 92: gedankenexperiment

Today's strange, strange adventure in logophilia is

gedankexperiment.

That's a thing?  Yes, indeed it is!  A gedankexperiment (literally "thought experiment") is an experiment only able to carried out in thought.  This was a term invented by Albert Einstein as he conceptualized the theory of relativity... which is only a theory and essentially can't be proven or disproven.  

This has shown me another sciencey metaphor for writing.  Here goes.  Stop me if you've heard this one before.  Ahem.  When I'm beginning the first draft of a new project - no matter what it is - I tend to create the story in my head.  Because I am a visual person, I like seeing my characters in situations, solving new problems, jumping over hurdles, battling demons, falling in love, etc.  This is particularly true when I am at the YMCA on the elliptical or walking around downtown on my breaks from work.  The images flood me, and I'm swept away. 

But as a writer, the images are really only experiments, ideas thrown together in a sort of tantalizing display.  Each possible story thread follows me, tugging me and trying to convince me that it is the thread I should choose.  It is like the quote I posted recently from Umberto Eco: "All the stories I would like to write persecute me... it seems as if they are around me, like little devils, and while one tugs at my ear, another tweaks my nose, and each says to me 'Sir, write me, I am beautiful.'" Because I can't make up my mind, I'll choose several different ideas and fly with them... wondering which idea is THE idea that will grow into the novel.  Meanwhile, as the "book" becomes the winter's next great blockbuster-in-my-head, the novel itself is nothing but a blank sheet.  Or an unsaved MS Word document.

In other words, a novel or story isn't exactly the unprovable theory, only truly tangible in the mind, but it is tempting, for me at least, to let it remain unprovable by continuing these pre-writing experiments.  The only way I will truly know where the novel is going, what is happening the characters, what they want out of life, etc is to write the story, and pull them out of the clouds and onto the paper and form them in words.  Trial and error.  Letting the images achieve tangibility on the page. 

So, note to self: your story is not the theory of relativity, but the only way to prove it to yourself is to remove it from your head and put it on the page.  Remember that gedankexperiments do not need very much work at all, but they're hard to explain and read aloud to people.  Yes, it's scary to write that naked, awful draft of that tentative story, but it will be worth it! 

AIL Day 91: orrery

Today's adventure in logophilia is

orrery

An orrery is a mechanical model of the solar system, or of the sun, earth and moon, used to represent their relative positions and motions.  Sort of a solar-system mobile.

AIL Day 90: funambulism

On this here 90th day of logophiliac adventures we come to...

funambulism

 

Though it sounds like a serious medical condition (rhyming a bit with "embollism," which would make for some very strange lines of lines of verse...), funambulism is a fancy term for tightrope walking, or a show of special mental agility.  Do you feel like this at times, fellow writers?  Well, don't look down in the midst of your crafting - a bit of advice I need to take myself.  Keep looking forward, and go slowly, one step at a time. 

AIL Day 89: amaranth

Today's adventure in logophilia is

amaranth

An amaranth is a flower that never fades, used as a dye that produces a color similar to magenta but redder.  Something that is amaranthine is undying, particularly in color.  This is an amaranthine season, methinks.

AIL Day 88: zeitgeist

Our fine and fabulous word for day 88 is...

zeitgeist

Together the German terms "zeit" (time) and "geist" (spirit) mean the taste, outlook, cultural climate and/or spirit characteristic of a period or generation.  Twitter, Facebook, smartphones.

AIL Day 87: mettlesome

Day 87?  Really?  Today's adventure in logophilia is

mettlesome

Mettlesome is an adjective that means "full of vigor and stamina, spirited," and obviously "to have mettle".  I remember stumbling across this word and thinking of it's homonym "meddlesome", which implies mischief or sabotage.  Mettle on the other hand means courageousness, endurance, vigor of strength and temperament.  Imagine how glad I was to discover this was a virtue! 

This trying-to-find-an-agent-and-build-an-online-voice thing is quite the test of my mettle - or, more metaphorically speaking, testing the mettle and metal (iron?) that is in my personality and reinforces me when life seems to take me nowhere or backwards fast.  I spent the last two weeks combing through and revising my novel once again - not because I'm a masochist but to make sure this novel is the absolute best work I can offer.  I will be sending out another query (via snail-mail... or "hard mail" as they call it in my novel) next week, hoping of course, but also looking ahead to the next agent, the next set of materials I must prepare.  I'm learning to bounce back, to continue work on the sequel of this newly finished brain-child, to challenge myself in the physical art of making envelopes and other paper-goods for Christmas presents, to steam puddings and bake cookies, to build up that mettle and metal for the next day, the next week, the next month.  This winter won't be a dormant period, but it will be a waiting period, a testing period, and I must remind myself that there will be a Spring, even if the Winter is long and hard.  Thanks all of you for coming with me!

Neil Gaiman on Art

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.

AIL Day 86: quaint

Today's adventure in logophilia is

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.

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

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." 

AIL Day 83: gainsay

Today's adventure in logophilia is

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?

AIL Day 82: advent

Today is the first day of

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...

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.

AIL Day 80: jiggery-pokery

Today's adventure in logophilia is

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.

AIL Day 79: incunabulum

The adventure in logophilia for today, this penultimate day of November, is...

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."

AIL Day 78: dither

Today's adventure in logophilia is

dither

A dither is a highly nervous, excited or agitated state.

AIL Day 77: verglas

Today's adventure in logophilia is

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! 

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.