renascent
Renascent is an adjective that means reborn, or coming into being again.
Friday, November 16, 2012
AIL Day 66: renascent
Today's adventure in logophilia is...
Renascent is an adjective that means reborn, or coming into being again.
Renascent is an adjective that means reborn, or coming into being again.
The Writer's Black Hole
This has been an odd couple of weeks on the writing-sphere of my life. I wonder sometimes if I have multiple personalities, a short attention span, or just a cranky "artist-child", as Julia Cameron would say. The fact is, despite my daily visits to the blog and to Twitter, I have been in a dry spell since I finished my novel in September.
I didn't understand why I felt so bereft, empty, melancholic, etc, etc. I came up with a variety of self-diagnoses (like a psychological version of House): I need a big project to fill the void; I need to work on something new: those stories that have been sitting in limbo forever; I need to stop whining, stop beating myself up and read, read, read. These diagnoses were met with many a vacillation and excuse from my unappeased and unsatisfied "artist-child."
I remember looking forward to this period, journalling about the "free-time" I'd have to work on the blog, to pursue smaller projects, to experiment with other crafty things. This was supposed to be a break, a wonderful time to regroup and recover and rebuild my creative energy. And yet... having been deep inside this novel, in the minds and hearts of my characters, for the last year and a half, I found the post-novel experience to be frighteningly empty. Perhaps, even lonely. It's that moment when you realize, suddenly whilst swimming in the ocean, that you can no longer touch the bottom, and you begin to panic and sink.
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| Abandoned Psychiatric Hospital. |
1.) The next "big" project would be the sequel to the novel I'd just finished - the novel which is in back in limbo, waiting for an agent. At first, I thought - of course! The characters are still fresh in my mind. I want to return to them so badly... And then I keep worrying about the state of the first novel - whether anyone would really want to represent it, or if it needs another wash-through altogether. Conclusion was that working on novel #2 would only make me worry about novel #1.
2.) Working on the limbo stories is absolutely fine. I have two of them: a scene where a historical character jumps from the tower in which was being held captive, and a sort-of fantastical bent on Melville's "Bartleby the Scrivener." Awesome ideas. Really! But I couldn't (and still can't) figure out why my attention span and enthusiasm about these projects wavered from day to day. Fear? Yes, maybe, but isn't that obvious? But fear doesn't always keep me running in the opposite direction. It was torture to sit and stare at the partial drafts, having ideas in my head but being unable to bring them any further. Finish them, finish them, part of me said. But I was/is too tense to do so... as if suddenly an enormous amount of pressure was on my shoulders, trying to convince me that the only way I'd be taken seriously as a writer would be to fill up my portfolio with a variety of things... and didn't these make the most sense?
3.) Not writing on any story was the other option, a complete surrender. It's comparable to the glee of a child let loose at the end of the school year. Yayyy! I wanted to give myself a break! Here's a break! I'm going to watch as many episodes of The X-Files, Farscape and Star Trek: The Next Generation (yes, I'm a nerd, but you knew that) as I possibly can while I wait for Downton Abbey and Sherlock to air! I'm going to devour more books! I'm going to make all of my Christmas gifts by hand this year! I'm going to become proficient in Latin!
And then the euphoria faded once again. I was still empty. Still hungry, perhaps that's the better term. The story that was still vivid in my mind was... the sequel to the in-agent-limbo novel, even though I'd authoritative told my "artist-child" no. "No. It will only make you nitpick and stress out about what you have to fix for novel #1. You're too anxious as it is, trying to come up with the plotline for novel #2. Go play with Fantastical Bartleby. Or, do your Latin. You like Latin, remember?" And my artist-child instead took none of those options and chose to sit in the corner, pouting.
As much as I like Julia Cameron and the "artist's way", I don't want to attribute this to being "blocked" and try in vain to "unblock" myself. Blocked feels like such a negative, unproductive term. I don't respond well to diagnoses like that - as I do struggle with anxiety on a daily basis. Blaming myself for not writing isn't a cure. And making myself write what I don't want to write is hardly a solution, either. And... journalling and blogging have been a part of my daily routine since before the novel was finished. Is that blocked? No.
So... I've come to several conclusions from this massive wallow in the writing black hole.
1.) Anxiety about my first novel and whether or not it's "good enough" for an agent to want to represent will always be there. I'm not the only writer to struggle with this, I know. And how could we not be anxious? This is our brain-child! We want the best for him/her!
2.) I am not blocked. Period. I'm between projects and enjoying a rest. I am blogging and tweeting and using my brain. That's good, right?
3.) I don't have to work on Fantastical Bartleby if I don't want to. He can wait until a better time. There will be a better time for him. It's just not now.
4.) Work on novel #2 if I want to. The characters are still vivid and beautiful in my head. They're close to my heart. I love them. The most foolish thing would be to push them away. And even if novel #1 needs another wash-through, that doesn't necessarily nullify my work on #2. (If anything such revisions would be on language, not on plot or story.)
5.) After so long without the "need" for watching tons of television, I am gorging myself. I need to go on a Netflix diet but not completely deprive myself.
Already my unruly "artist-child" is feeling better. I might still vacillate a bit about what to do next, but I'm not going to flagellate myself whatever I decide. At this point "artist-child" wants novel #2, and we'll see where it takes us... but anything is good if it gets me out of the black hole and back into a better mind set, to fill the void left by that novel.
***
On another note, I'm glad I decided not to participate in NaNoWriMo this year. It would have had me stressed out on day one!
So... I've come to several conclusions from this massive wallow in the writing black hole.
1.) Anxiety about my first novel and whether or not it's "good enough" for an agent to want to represent will always be there. I'm not the only writer to struggle with this, I know. And how could we not be anxious? This is our brain-child! We want the best for him/her!
2.) I am not blocked. Period. I'm between projects and enjoying a rest. I am blogging and tweeting and using my brain. That's good, right?
3.) I don't have to work on Fantastical Bartleby if I don't want to. He can wait until a better time. There will be a better time for him. It's just not now.
4.) Work on novel #2 if I want to. The characters are still vivid and beautiful in my head. They're close to my heart. I love them. The most foolish thing would be to push them away. And even if novel #1 needs another wash-through, that doesn't necessarily nullify my work on #2. (If anything such revisions would be on language, not on plot or story.)
5.) After so long without the "need" for watching tons of television, I am gorging myself. I need to go on a Netflix diet but not completely deprive myself.
Already my unruly "artist-child" is feeling better. I might still vacillate a bit about what to do next, but I'm not going to flagellate myself whatever I decide. At this point "artist-child" wants novel #2, and we'll see where it takes us... but anything is good if it gets me out of the black hole and back into a better mind set, to fill the void left by that novel.
***
On another note, I'm glad I decided not to participate in NaNoWriMo this year. It would have had me stressed out on day one!
Thursday, November 15, 2012
AIL Day 65: dreamwork (j)
Today's word is
Yes, it is a word, not merely the name of a successful studio of animated films. Dreamwork is the process by which the unconscious mind alters the manifest content of dreams in order to conceal their real meaning from the dreamer. Ah, yes. I do this all the time, and not just in my sleep. This might be why I space out and forget where I am in the universe half the time. Art and writing are partially written by the unconscious mind. Fact. In fact, the unconscious is in charge... I'm going to stop myself before this metaphor completely takes me hostage.
dreamwork
Yes, it is a word, not merely the name of a successful studio of animated films. Dreamwork is the process by which the unconscious mind alters the manifest content of dreams in order to conceal their real meaning from the dreamer. Ah, yes. I do this all the time, and not just in my sleep. This might be why I space out and forget where I am in the universe half the time. Art and writing are partially written by the unconscious mind. Fact. In fact, the unconscious is in charge... I'm going to stop myself before this metaphor completely takes me hostage.
Wednesday, November 14, 2012
AIL Day 64: apogee (j)
Today's word is
Apogee (noun) is the point of the moon's orbit which is farthest from the earth, or (a rarer occurrence) the point of the Earth's orbit that is farthest from the sun. This is the direct opposite of perigee, which is the orbital point nearest to the Earth or the sun.
apogee
Apogee (noun) is the point of the moon's orbit which is farthest from the earth, or (a rarer occurrence) the point of the Earth's orbit that is farthest from the sun. This is the direct opposite of perigee, which is the orbital point nearest to the Earth or the sun.
Tuesday, November 13, 2012
Telegraph on Handwriting (j)
On my daily perusal of the Telegraph, I discovered a little gem on the returning art of letter writing and improving your penmanship. Jake Wallis Simons conveys a few tips to those of us who'd like our letters to look better and be more legible. Below, I've paraphrased them:
* Obtain a comfortable pen. (You'd think this is a no-brainer, but I had an epiphany reading this article. This is why my fingers hurt whenever I try to write stories by hand!)
* Sit up straight and pinch the pen between your first finger and thumb. (Er... I've always utilized the side of my middle finger. Is that to blame as well?)
* Try books on improving your handwriting.
* Write larger than normal at first.
* Doodle letters to practice.
* Obtain a comfortable pen. (You'd think this is a no-brainer, but I had an epiphany reading this article. This is why my fingers hurt whenever I try to write stories by hand!)
* Sit up straight and pinch the pen between your first finger and thumb. (Er... I've always utilized the side of my middle finger. Is that to blame as well?)
* Try books on improving your handwriting.
* Write larger than normal at first.
* Doodle letters to practice.
Oxford Dictionary's Word of the Year (j)
According to the Huffington Post, the word omnishambles is Oxford Dictionary's word of the year.
AIL Day 63: milquetoast (j)
Today's word is...
A milquetoast is one who has a meek, timid nature. Yes, it is pronounced "milk-toast." Oxford Dictionaries indicates that it is the name of a 1930s cartoon character. Online Etymology indicates that it might be a form of milksop, a 14th century term for "an effeminite spiritless man," and also used as a reference to the infant Christ... literally a piece of bread soaking in milk, mild baby food.
This was not as nice as I would have thought. I'm pretty sure I saw this in either Wolf Hall or Bring Up the Bodies, Hilary Mantel's historical fiction novels about Thomas Cromwell... which means it is slightly anachronistic (unless Ms. Mantel used the word "milksop" instead). Nonetheless the term was used by Anne Boleyn's ladies in waiting to describe/deride the quiet Jane Seymour.
milquetoast
A milquetoast is one who has a meek, timid nature. Yes, it is pronounced "milk-toast." Oxford Dictionaries indicates that it is the name of a 1930s cartoon character. Online Etymology indicates that it might be a form of milksop, a 14th century term for "an effeminite spiritless man," and also used as a reference to the infant Christ... literally a piece of bread soaking in milk, mild baby food.
This was not as nice as I would have thought. I'm pretty sure I saw this in either Wolf Hall or Bring Up the Bodies, Hilary Mantel's historical fiction novels about Thomas Cromwell... which means it is slightly anachronistic (unless Ms. Mantel used the word "milksop" instead). Nonetheless the term was used by Anne Boleyn's ladies in waiting to describe/deride the quiet Jane Seymour.
Monday, November 12, 2012
AIL Day 62: prolix (j)
Today's word is...
Prolix, an adjective, means verbose, wordy, diffuse and redundantly executed language.
I chose it today because it looks interesting. Honestly, it has an x in it... so that automatically means it's on Jillian's list. And... we're all guilty of prolixity from time to time... but I believe it is our license as writers to be as prolix as possible in our first drafts to see where the surfeit of words is actually aiming us.
Oxford Dictionaries indicates that it is late Middle English (which of course means it has roots in Old French) and has a connection to the Latin word proxilus meaning "poured forth and extended," a combination of the words "pro-" (outward) and "liquere" (to be liquid). Words as liquid, spilling out across table, into a conversation, making a mess even if the color of that liquid happens to be pretty. The wasted words must be sponged up. The difference between actual liquid and words is that the words are reusable and will definitely return.
prolix
Prolix, an adjective, means verbose, wordy, diffuse and redundantly executed language.
I chose it today because it looks interesting. Honestly, it has an x in it... so that automatically means it's on Jillian's list. And... we're all guilty of prolixity from time to time... but I believe it is our license as writers to be as prolix as possible in our first drafts to see where the surfeit of words is actually aiming us.
Oxford Dictionaries indicates that it is late Middle English (which of course means it has roots in Old French) and has a connection to the Latin word proxilus meaning "poured forth and extended," a combination of the words "pro-" (outward) and "liquere" (to be liquid). Words as liquid, spilling out across table, into a conversation, making a mess even if the color of that liquid happens to be pretty. The wasted words must be sponged up. The difference between actual liquid and words is that the words are reusable and will definitely return.
Sunday, November 11, 2012
AIL Day 61: quiddity (j)
I'm late with today's dose of logophilia, but Sundays tend to be slow as a general rule. Anyway, today's word is...
A quiddity is whatever makes something the type that it is: essence; a trifling point or quibble; a touch of eccentricity. If you fear you are in possession of odd quiddities as a writer - certain words, certain phrases, certain preferences for unlikely characters - embrace them, use them and follow them onto something new. A quiddity of mine, you ask? I use the archaic word methinks a lot, find excuses to use 'twas and wont, and put Latin into one or two of my characters' mouths although - nota bene (note carefully) - used sparingly.
What are your favorite quiddities as a writer?
quiddity
A quiddity is whatever makes something the type that it is: essence; a trifling point or quibble; a touch of eccentricity. If you fear you are in possession of odd quiddities as a writer - certain words, certain phrases, certain preferences for unlikely characters - embrace them, use them and follow them onto something new. A quiddity of mine, you ask? I use the archaic word methinks a lot, find excuses to use 'twas and wont, and put Latin into one or two of my characters' mouths although - nota bene (note carefully) - used sparingly.
What are your favorite quiddities as a writer?
Saturday, November 10, 2012
AIL Day 60: esprit de l'escalier (j)
Today's word of whimsy is...
Huh, you say? What's with all the French words? English is awesome because it is always changing, absorbing words, phrases and nuances from other languages. Today's word is no exception. An esprit de l'escalier is a witty remark thought of too late, on the way home. In other words, it is the clever comment you wish you had delivered and therefore impressed your friends (or enemies). In French it means "staircase wit." I'm sure we've all experienced this before. As writers, I find we can actually use our late witticisms later on... keeping a stockpile until opportunity strikes in our pages.
esprit de l'escalier
Huh, you say? What's with all the French words? English is awesome because it is always changing, absorbing words, phrases and nuances from other languages. Today's word is no exception. An esprit de l'escalier is a witty remark thought of too late, on the way home. In other words, it is the clever comment you wish you had delivered and therefore impressed your friends (or enemies). In French it means "staircase wit." I'm sure we've all experienced this before. As writers, I find we can actually use our late witticisms later on... keeping a stockpile until opportunity strikes in our pages.
Friday, November 9, 2012
Adventures in Logophilia Day 59: hackneyed (j)
Today's word is...
hackneyed
The adjective hackneyed simply means "worn out by overuse." According to Oxford Dictionaries, "hackney" was originally in use to indicate a horse hired for a carriage or coach - in other words, an ordinary harnessed horse. As opposed, I assume, to the "high horses" (hee hee) used in the military. Presumably also indicating an area of London called Hackney where horses were put to pasture.
Thursday, November 8, 2012
Adventures in Logophilia Day 58: wend (j)
Today's word is...
To wend (verb) is to direct one's course in a particular way; to travel, to proceed, to continue.
To wend (verb) is to direct one's course in a particular way; to travel, to proceed, to continue.
Wednesday, November 7, 2012
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...
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.
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.
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
Adventures in Logophilia Day 56: silly season (j)
I couldn't resist. Today's word is...
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!
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!
Monday, November 5, 2012
Adventures in Logophilia Day 55: Guy Fawkes Day (j)
Today's phrase is...
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.
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 (a noun) simply means energy and enthusiasm.
vim
Vim (a noun) simply means energy and enthusiasm.
Adventures in Logophilia Day 53: twee (j)
The word for 3 November was/is...
Twee is a British expression, an adjective, meaning affectedly or excessively dainty, delicate, quaint or cute.
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.
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.
Friday, November 2, 2012
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:
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."
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."
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
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.
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.
Tuesday, October 30, 2012
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.
Monday, October 29, 2012
Wisdom from Yesteryear (j & m)
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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.
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.
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.
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.
Friday, October 26, 2012
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!
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!
Thursday, October 25, 2012
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?
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?
Wednesday, October 24, 2012
Adventures in Logophilia Day 43: skullduggery (j)
Today's word is...
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?
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?
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
Adventures in Logophilia Day 42: gloaming (j)
Today's word is...
Gloaming (a noun) is another word for twilight or dusk. I first happened upon it in Jane Eyre and many more contemporary places since.
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.
Retellings: Sherlock vs Elementary (jillian)
'Tis the season of retellings... particularly on terms of television. I've been trying to wrap my head around the new CBS series Elementary, which sees Jonny Lee Miller as Sherlock Holmes in contemporary New York with Lucy Liu as his sidekick Joan Watson. The Telegraph has a nice article on it, today. I've not seen it because television in general tends to eat time, but I have to admit I am curious now to see if it works or if it flops.
As a devotee of BBC's Sherlock, I came to this as a bit of a biased snob. "What? Making Watson a woman? Taking Sherlock out of London?" Etcetera, etcetera. But, of course, people probably said the same when Sherlock came out in 2010: "How can Benedict Cumberbatch possibly be better than Jeremy Brett? The idea!" But... while these misgivings are valid in their own way, I've come to realize or remember with humility that these are all retellings, not the original story.
Like my argument about viewing a book and its subequent film or films as different animals (i.e. Pride and Prejudice), I think we need to look at the different versions of the stories as equally legitimate renderings. There cannot be one "true" film or television verson of a story. Each will be different. Elementary chooses to emphasize Sherlock as a brilliant drug addict with tattoos, and Watson as a woman and the doctor assigned to keep him sober. In Sherlock, he labels himself a "high functioning sociopath" and texts compulsively, as Watson is the roommate who keeps him in line and keeps him human. One show is American, the other is British. One is slated as a regular series, the other is a miniseries. The comparisons continue, but neither is wrong. Both are a celebration of the original seed of the Sherlock Holmes stories that Sir Arthur Conan Doyle wrote in the late 19th century. To nitpick about Watson's gender or Sherlock's hair color is to totally miss the point. The details are just colors, shadows and angles. The writers, actors and directors of both shows have distinctly different ideas about what makes those stories and characters so compelling. That's why I sit humbly on my hands when i think about my ire for Ridley Scott's Robin Hood. No one owns Robin Hood. No one owns Sherlock Holmes. They belong to everyone.
Retellings are in our blood, those left-over Anglo-Saxon narrative impulses. Our version of Beowulf isn't the original, but it celebrates the original seed of the story. Same with King Arthur and Robin Hood, and Homer's tales. In this era, the stories have evolved from oral anonymities to published works. I ask again, how many times has Pride and Prejudice or Great Expectations made it to a miniseries or theatrical form? Many times celebrated. If anything, film versions always bring the most intrigued back to the source, back to reading how the "real" Sherlock Holmes solved mysteries, made meticulous observations and shot cocaine when he was bored. (No, I don't condone him. We're not supposed to.) So how can multiple versions be a bad thing? And can't they co-exist?
Definitely.
So... pick your poison!
As a devotee of BBC's Sherlock, I came to this as a bit of a biased snob. "What? Making Watson a woman? Taking Sherlock out of London?" Etcetera, etcetera. But, of course, people probably said the same when Sherlock came out in 2010: "How can Benedict Cumberbatch possibly be better than Jeremy Brett? The idea!" But... while these misgivings are valid in their own way, I've come to realize or remember with humility that these are all retellings, not the original story.
Like my argument about viewing a book and its subequent film or films as different animals (i.e. Pride and Prejudice), I think we need to look at the different versions of the stories as equally legitimate renderings. There cannot be one "true" film or television verson of a story. Each will be different. Elementary chooses to emphasize Sherlock as a brilliant drug addict with tattoos, and Watson as a woman and the doctor assigned to keep him sober. In Sherlock, he labels himself a "high functioning sociopath" and texts compulsively, as Watson is the roommate who keeps him in line and keeps him human. One show is American, the other is British. One is slated as a regular series, the other is a miniseries. The comparisons continue, but neither is wrong. Both are a celebration of the original seed of the Sherlock Holmes stories that Sir Arthur Conan Doyle wrote in the late 19th century. To nitpick about Watson's gender or Sherlock's hair color is to totally miss the point. The details are just colors, shadows and angles. The writers, actors and directors of both shows have distinctly different ideas about what makes those stories and characters so compelling. That's why I sit humbly on my hands when i think about my ire for Ridley Scott's Robin Hood. No one owns Robin Hood. No one owns Sherlock Holmes. They belong to everyone.
Retellings are in our blood, those left-over Anglo-Saxon narrative impulses. Our version of Beowulf isn't the original, but it celebrates the original seed of the story. Same with King Arthur and Robin Hood, and Homer's tales. In this era, the stories have evolved from oral anonymities to published works. I ask again, how many times has Pride and Prejudice or Great Expectations made it to a miniseries or theatrical form? Many times celebrated. If anything, film versions always bring the most intrigued back to the source, back to reading how the "real" Sherlock Holmes solved mysteries, made meticulous observations and shot cocaine when he was bored. (No, I don't condone him. We're not supposed to.) So how can multiple versions be a bad thing? And can't they co-exist?
Definitely.
So... pick your poison!
 |
| Elementary starring Jonny Lee Miller and Lucy Liu. CBS. |
Or...
 |
| Sherlock starring Benedict Cumberbatch and Martin Freeman. BBC. |
Synopsis Metaphor (jillian)
A metaphor for you...
This is how I've come to think of writing synopses and queries: writing a synopsis is like orbiting the earth whereas writing a novel is being on the ground, engaging in the world. (Pretend that my pattern of orbit on the left actually makes sense.) When you orbit a planet, you take in a very general view, but no less breathtaking angle, of the Earth. When you're actually writing a novel, you are inside and very intimately involved with the details. So actually, writing a synopsis or the actual the novel comes down to a matter of angles and viewpoints, a telescope or a microscope. Suddenly everything about this process becomes less daunting if I look at this way. I'm orbiting. It may not be fun, but it's a good skill to have, a good exercise to use in the aftermath of a year and a half of work. What does my novel look like from a distance?
This is how I've come to think of writing synopses and queries: writing a synopsis is like orbiting the earth whereas writing a novel is being on the ground, engaging in the world. (Pretend that my pattern of orbit on the left actually makes sense.) When you orbit a planet, you take in a very general view, but no less breathtaking angle, of the Earth. When you're actually writing a novel, you are inside and very intimately involved with the details. So actually, writing a synopsis or the actual the novel comes down to a matter of angles and viewpoints, a telescope or a microscope. Suddenly everything about this process becomes less daunting if I look at this way. I'm orbiting. It may not be fun, but it's a good skill to have, a good exercise to use in the aftermath of a year and a half of work. What does my novel look like from a distance?
Monday, October 22, 2012
Adventures in Logophilia Day 41: will-o'-the-wisp (j)
Today's word with a sort-of-All-Hallows tilt is...
Will-o'-the-wisp (noun) is a phosphorescent light that appears in the night over marshes and is thought to be due to the combustion of gas from decomposed organic matter. In other words, a ghostly light in a swamp. Another name for it is ignis fatuus. More metaphorically speaking, will-o'-the-wisp can refer to a goal or a person difficult to reach or catch. According to Oxford Dictionaries, this is a 17th century word originally known as "will with the wisp", the wisp being a lighted torch. This always puts to mind Tolkein's Dead Marshes from The Two Towers, as Frodo and Sam follow Gollum through the ghostly lights passed dead things in the water. Freakiest passage ever. Freakiest movie scene as well.
will-o'-the-wisp
Will-o'-the-wisp (noun) is a phosphorescent light that appears in the night over marshes and is thought to be due to the combustion of gas from decomposed organic matter. In other words, a ghostly light in a swamp. Another name for it is ignis fatuus. More metaphorically speaking, will-o'-the-wisp can refer to a goal or a person difficult to reach or catch. According to Oxford Dictionaries, this is a 17th century word originally known as "will with the wisp", the wisp being a lighted torch. This always puts to mind Tolkein's Dead Marshes from The Two Towers, as Frodo and Sam follow Gollum through the ghostly lights passed dead things in the water. Freakiest passage ever. Freakiest movie scene as well.
Sunday, October 21, 2012
Adventures in Logophilia Day 40: harpy (jillian)
Today's word is...
A harpy (noun) is a predatory monster from Greek mythology, which has a woman's head and a vulture's body. A contemporary harpy would be a predatory person or a leech, and also a shrewish woman. Not your average insult, eh? More effective, too.
harpy
A harpy (noun) is a predatory monster from Greek mythology, which has a woman's head and a vulture's body. A contemporary harpy would be a predatory person or a leech, and also a shrewish woman. Not your average insult, eh? More effective, too.
Saturday, October 20, 2012
Adventures in Logophilia Day 39: fey (jillian)
Continuing with our Halloween theme, today's creepy word is...
Fey (an adjective) simply means "fated to die", and something that is fey is foreboding of death or major calamity. It can also mean crazy - something marked by a strange, otherworldly air. Other uses of the word are "excessively refined", "dainty or precious" or "quaintly unconventional." Fey, as a harbinger of death, was probably the earliest use - pointing to fairies who were the scapegoats for sudden, unexplainable death and everyday inconveniences (oh, no! The milk went sour!) in early centuries. In my first lesson on the Middle Ages - Catherine Called Birdy - a character dies in her sleep and she is considered "elf shot" because there isn't a mark of trauma on the body. Elf shot. Stroke. Same thing, right? I don't think we will ever stop being shaken to the core by death, no matter what the explanation.
Friday, October 19, 2012
Adventures in Logophilia Day 38: chimera (jillian)
Today's word is...
A chimera (noun and sometimes capitalized) is a fire-breathing she-monster from Greek mythology with a lion's head, a goat's body and a serpent's tail. Chimera has come to describe any imaginary hybrid monster. Chimera is also one of my favorite metaphors describing a illusion, vision or an unfathomable, soul-shaking nightmare. In biology and genetics, the term refers to an individual made of unmatching genetic material; in theory what might happen if an embryo sometime in the early stages of division absorbs another "sibling" embryo. One also thinks of chimeras in regards to conjoined human twins or a cat born with two heads - phenomena stranger than fiction. If that's not an image for Halloween, I don't know what is.
chimera
 |
| From steampunkwines.com. |
A chimera (noun and sometimes capitalized) is a fire-breathing she-monster from Greek mythology with a lion's head, a goat's body and a serpent's tail. Chimera has come to describe any imaginary hybrid monster. Chimera is also one of my favorite metaphors describing a illusion, vision or an unfathomable, soul-shaking nightmare. In biology and genetics, the term refers to an individual made of unmatching genetic material; in theory what might happen if an embryo sometime in the early stages of division absorbs another "sibling" embryo. One also thinks of chimeras in regards to conjoined human twins or a cat born with two heads - phenomena stranger than fiction. If that's not an image for Halloween, I don't know what is.
Thursday, October 18, 2012
Adventures in Logophilia Day 37: Lycanthropia (jillian)
Today's word is...
Lycanthropia (an archaic noun) refers to "a variety of melancholy in which the person believes himself to be changed into a wolf." (From Jeffrey Kacirk's Forgotten English) Therefore a lycanthrope is a werewolf - not someone who likes lichens. That would be "lichenthrope." According to Oxford Dictionaries lycanthrope is a 17th century term. So... not medieval but a decidedly early modern paranoia. It makes me wonder how the werewolf myth began in the first place.
As it is so close to Halloween, I should have put this word into spooky calligraphy, but alas, I ran out of time this morning.
lycanthropia
Lycanthropia (an archaic noun) refers to "a variety of melancholy in which the person believes himself to be changed into a wolf." (From Jeffrey Kacirk's Forgotten English) Therefore a lycanthrope is a werewolf - not someone who likes lichens. That would be "lichenthrope." According to Oxford Dictionaries lycanthrope is a 17th century term. So... not medieval but a decidedly early modern paranoia. It makes me wonder how the werewolf myth began in the first place.
As it is so close to Halloween, I should have put this word into spooky calligraphy, but alas, I ran out of time this morning.
Wednesday, October 17, 2012
Whimsy on Wednesday (Jillian)
A little literary news reel for you:
- On the Telegraph, British author Hilary Mantel has won the Man Booker Prize for her novel Bring Up the Bodies, a sequel to Wolf Hall, which follows Thomas Cromwell at the court of Henry VIII. Bring Up the Bodies details the Anne Boleyn scandal and her unhappy end. Ms. Mantel is one of two authors to have won the Man Booker Prize twice and the only woman to do so. This is a great testament to the power of fiction written well... and historical fiction at that. Hers is the only Tudor-esque novel out of the hundreds that exist that I want very badly to read.
- Ian McEwan, also a Booker Prize winner, has said recently that the novella is the perfect literary form. He might be right but that's quite a difficult thing to accomplish.
- NPR has a lovely article on the 60th anniversary of E.B. White's Charlotte's Web.
- National Novel Writing Month is coming up in November. Writer Unboxed has several posts on preparing for the project. I am considering participating in it this year, if only to maintain my sanity during this time of the Sisyphean synopsis. I think it would be a good way to churn out a first draft of a novel, intense though it may be.
- Publishers Marketplace had an article on Ann Patchett interviewing JK Rowling. One tidbit I found interesting: "I find that discussing an idea out loud is often the way to kill it stone dead. They all sound rubbish," she said. I find this to be particularly true. My ideas for stories or little nuances in my novel must be kept inside - let out too soon, even in private dialogue with oneself, and the idea evaporates or turns to dust.
Adventures in Logophilia Day 36: St. Luke's Summer (Jillian)
Today's word/phrase is...
According to Oxford Dictionaries, Saint Luke's summer (a British term) is a period of fine weather around the 18th of October, which is Saint Luke's feast day. I honestly don't remember how I came across this phrase, but it fascinates me... an older version of what we'd call "Indian summer." Especially in England and Europe where the days of the year were marked by saints' days and sundry feasts, this makes particular sense. It puts a new spin on the word lukewarm, as well.
It makes for an interesting metaphor - a little pocket of summer come to rest inside another season. For the last several days we've had a glorious St. Luke's summer: the leaves are golden, red, orange and purple, beautiful autumn, and yet temperatures climbed into the 80s. It was summer. I tend to enjoy these bizarre weather-fronts: the odd January days that reach the 60s or 70s and melt a month's worth of snow; the chilly, blustery fronts in July when we suddenly wonder where the oven of summer has gone. They're rogue summers and winters - visiting out of season but welcome guests nonetheless. I don't think it's as significant as climate change, but weather-change and weather-mood.
There is another version of Saint Luke's summer which is Saint Martin's summer, basically nice, warm weather around the 11th of November, the feast day of St. Martin of Tours.
Saint Luke's summer
According to Oxford Dictionaries, Saint Luke's summer (a British term) is a period of fine weather around the 18th of October, which is Saint Luke's feast day. I honestly don't remember how I came across this phrase, but it fascinates me... an older version of what we'd call "Indian summer." Especially in England and Europe where the days of the year were marked by saints' days and sundry feasts, this makes particular sense. It puts a new spin on the word lukewarm, as well.
It makes for an interesting metaphor - a little pocket of summer come to rest inside another season. For the last several days we've had a glorious St. Luke's summer: the leaves are golden, red, orange and purple, beautiful autumn, and yet temperatures climbed into the 80s. It was summer. I tend to enjoy these bizarre weather-fronts: the odd January days that reach the 60s or 70s and melt a month's worth of snow; the chilly, blustery fronts in July when we suddenly wonder where the oven of summer has gone. They're rogue summers and winters - visiting out of season but welcome guests nonetheless. I don't think it's as significant as climate change, but weather-change and weather-mood.
There is another version of Saint Luke's summer which is Saint Martin's summer, basically nice, warm weather around the 11th of November, the feast day of St. Martin of Tours.
Tuesday, October 16, 2012
The Sisyphean Synopsis (Jillian)
I mentioned Sisyphus this morning right? He was the man with the impossible task of rolling a boulder up a hill only to have it go rolling down again - eternal punishment for something he did to the chagrin of the gods.
Since I've completed my novel and intend to send it to agents - the starting point for any novelist hoping to publish - there have been the inevitable tasks to complete, ends to sew up tightly, advice to be read and heeded. It was quite a strange transition to make from one day being immersed in a world of words to the next when I was on my own again, orbiting that world instead of walking it. The tasks are writing the dreaded query letter and writing a synopsis. Ick. Double ick.
The query letter is a basic, basic, basic letter no more than one page long. It is the piece of writing one emails/mails to an agent, selling one's book in a matter of two (sometimes three) well-crafted paragraphs... in other words, just a handful of sentences to grab his/her attention. The first paragraph involves the hook sentence much like that on a book jacket that encapsulates the novel's story, essence and selling-potential in one go. The next paragraph is a slightly bigger expansion or synopsis of that hook paragraph. The third is a discussion of one's credentials. Etcetera.
Somehow I wrote it, rewrote it, embellished, pared down, expanded, pared down, cut, cut, cut, until the thing was the epitome of professional succinctness and naunce. It is not easy, I tell you, to "say more with less" but it can be done. After all, writing 125,000 words is a lot easier than 500 or 300: greater margin for error, for one thing. I think if one comes out of the process with a satisfactory query letter one doesn't mind showing to friends and complete strangers, one has grown as a writer.
The synopsis is my present onus. This is a 1-2 page summary of the book, written dryly with all the facts about the story more or less revealed in sequence. I didn't realize I needed one until I began to look at submission requirements to particular agencies and did a little subsequent research. Luckily, Chuck Sambuchino of Writer Unboxed posted some advice on this very thing months ago, of which I found helpful. One of the things I learned is that a synopsis is very important in genre fiction (sci-fi, fantasy, mystery, bla, bla) so that agents can easily follow whether or not one's novel has Acts I, III and III in the right places and in the right proportions. It makes perfect sense, and yet it seems hopelessly Sisyphean.
Of course, my novel is science fiction, and I realized there is no way around this thing. "One to two pages?" I asked aloud. No one heard but the cat, who thinks I'm a nut anyway. "Double spaced? How can I implode an entire 125,000 word novel into two pages?" The camel through the needle's eye... sort of...
When my panic wore off, I had to remind myself that I thought the exact same thing for the query. Then, the reaction had been, "An entire novel in one paragraph? Can't do it!" Obviously, I could and did, but it took me a while. I'm in the process of reminding myself that the synopsis is really just a bit bigger than the query itself, another expansion of the details presented in those little paragraphs. But slogging through it in the meantime is utter torture.
Advice to self (and others):
1.) Work on the synopsis a little every day, just like the query letter, then put it away and work on something else. The first versions will stink, but first drafts of anything usually do. If you don't have a first draft, how else can you write a better second draft and a good third draft?
2.) Patience. When I'm on roll - having just finished a project or otherwise blindsided with enthusiasm and overconfidence - I often get the delusion that I can send out the query letter or the entire submission inside of a week if I just work hard enough on it. This is unrealistic thinking. Better to take time on something like a query or a synopsis than to send something off that it is rough around the edges. Remember that you don't have a deadline yet. That will come later. Above all: no self-deprecations!
3.) Simplify, simplify, simplify, as Mr. Thoreau said.
4.) In the hours spent away from the query or synopsis, write something from the heart - get back into a routine. Otherwise, you may feel drained and blocked for no reason. Writing a query letter or a synopsis does not preclude you from going ahead with new stories. This is for your sanity.
5.) Read lots of advice on formatting, etc. Don't ignore it.
6.) Remember that you are doing this for your novel, your brainchild. It is worth the torture. And it might not nearly be as bad it seemed at the end.
All right. Back to the boulder up the hill...
Since I've completed my novel and intend to send it to agents - the starting point for any novelist hoping to publish - there have been the inevitable tasks to complete, ends to sew up tightly, advice to be read and heeded. It was quite a strange transition to make from one day being immersed in a world of words to the next when I was on my own again, orbiting that world instead of walking it. The tasks are writing the dreaded query letter and writing a synopsis. Ick. Double ick.
The query letter is a basic, basic, basic letter no more than one page long. It is the piece of writing one emails/mails to an agent, selling one's book in a matter of two (sometimes three) well-crafted paragraphs... in other words, just a handful of sentences to grab his/her attention. The first paragraph involves the hook sentence much like that on a book jacket that encapsulates the novel's story, essence and selling-potential in one go. The next paragraph is a slightly bigger expansion or synopsis of that hook paragraph. The third is a discussion of one's credentials. Etcetera.
Somehow I wrote it, rewrote it, embellished, pared down, expanded, pared down, cut, cut, cut, until the thing was the epitome of professional succinctness and naunce. It is not easy, I tell you, to "say more with less" but it can be done. After all, writing 125,000 words is a lot easier than 500 or 300: greater margin for error, for one thing. I think if one comes out of the process with a satisfactory query letter one doesn't mind showing to friends and complete strangers, one has grown as a writer.
The synopsis is my present onus. This is a 1-2 page summary of the book, written dryly with all the facts about the story more or less revealed in sequence. I didn't realize I needed one until I began to look at submission requirements to particular agencies and did a little subsequent research. Luckily, Chuck Sambuchino of Writer Unboxed posted some advice on this very thing months ago, of which I found helpful. One of the things I learned is that a synopsis is very important in genre fiction (sci-fi, fantasy, mystery, bla, bla) so that agents can easily follow whether or not one's novel has Acts I, III and III in the right places and in the right proportions. It makes perfect sense, and yet it seems hopelessly Sisyphean.
Of course, my novel is science fiction, and I realized there is no way around this thing. "One to two pages?" I asked aloud. No one heard but the cat, who thinks I'm a nut anyway. "Double spaced? How can I implode an entire 125,000 word novel into two pages?" The camel through the needle's eye... sort of...
When my panic wore off, I had to remind myself that I thought the exact same thing for the query. Then, the reaction had been, "An entire novel in one paragraph? Can't do it!" Obviously, I could and did, but it took me a while. I'm in the process of reminding myself that the synopsis is really just a bit bigger than the query itself, another expansion of the details presented in those little paragraphs. But slogging through it in the meantime is utter torture.
Advice to self (and others):
1.) Work on the synopsis a little every day, just like the query letter, then put it away and work on something else. The first versions will stink, but first drafts of anything usually do. If you don't have a first draft, how else can you write a better second draft and a good third draft?
2.) Patience. When I'm on roll - having just finished a project or otherwise blindsided with enthusiasm and overconfidence - I often get the delusion that I can send out the query letter or the entire submission inside of a week if I just work hard enough on it. This is unrealistic thinking. Better to take time on something like a query or a synopsis than to send something off that it is rough around the edges. Remember that you don't have a deadline yet. That will come later. Above all: no self-deprecations!
3.) Simplify, simplify, simplify, as Mr. Thoreau said.
4.) In the hours spent away from the query or synopsis, write something from the heart - get back into a routine. Otherwise, you may feel drained and blocked for no reason. Writing a query letter or a synopsis does not preclude you from going ahead with new stories. This is for your sanity.
5.) Read lots of advice on formatting, etc. Don't ignore it.
6.) Remember that you are doing this for your novel, your brainchild. It is worth the torture. And it might not nearly be as bad it seemed at the end.
All right. Back to the boulder up the hill...
Adventures in Logophilia Day 35: Niobe (jillian)
Today's word is...
In Greek mythology, Niobe (noun) was the daughter of Tantalus and the wife of Amphion, of whom Homer refers to in the Iliad. The gods punished her for an over abundance of pride (or hubris, which means "excessive self-pride or confidence" either in honor or in defiance of the gods... leading to a smack-down) with the deaths of her children.While weeping for her slain children she was turned into a stone from which her tears continue to flow.
Niobe turns up in metaphor the way that Sisyphus and Oedipus do, and we just can't remember where we've heard the name before. Homer did, of course, pack on the characters. Well, now we both know that any reference to Niobe implies sorrowful, eternal weeping.
In Greek mythology, Niobe (noun) was the daughter of Tantalus and the wife of Amphion, of whom Homer refers to in the Iliad. The gods punished her for an over abundance of pride (or hubris, which means "excessive self-pride or confidence" either in honor or in defiance of the gods... leading to a smack-down) with the deaths of her children.While weeping for her slain children she was turned into a stone from which her tears continue to flow.
Niobe turns up in metaphor the way that Sisyphus and Oedipus do, and we just can't remember where we've heard the name before. Homer did, of course, pack on the characters. Well, now we both know that any reference to Niobe implies sorrowful, eternal weeping.
Monday, October 15, 2012
Adventures in Logophilia Day 34: juvenescence (jillian)
Juvenescence (noun) is the state of being youthful or of growing young. My goal/resolution/mantra every birthday.
Adventures in Logophilia Day 33: brackish
The word for Day 33 is...
Something brackish (adjective) is described as either somewhat salty; or not appealing to the taste and therefore repulsive. This is the perfect word to describe the bread I made yesterday - 'twas brackish and wouldn't rise for the life of me, even though I followed the recipe in the bread-machine booklet. Naturally, the loaf went into the bin, and I was thirsty the rest of the evening.
Something brackish (adjective) is described as either somewhat salty; or not appealing to the taste and therefore repulsive. This is the perfect word to describe the bread I made yesterday - 'twas brackish and wouldn't rise for the life of me, even though I followed the recipe in the bread-machine booklet. Naturally, the loaf went into the bin, and I was thirsty the rest of the evening.
Adventures in Logophilia Day 32: pomaceous (Jillian)
The word for Day 32 on our logophiliac journey is...
Something pomaceous (adjective) is of or relates to apples... or resembling a pome (an apple). We've entered into a time of apples, all right. The only apple I can really stand these days is a Jonathan, perhaps because they are sweet in a way I don't find disgusting like a Gala or a Braeburn. Unfortunately, I've noticed, the worms like Jonathans, too.
Something pomaceous (adjective) is of or relates to apples... or resembling a pome (an apple). We've entered into a time of apples, all right. The only apple I can really stand these days is a Jonathan, perhaps because they are sweet in a way I don't find disgusting like a Gala or a Braeburn. Unfortunately, I've noticed, the worms like Jonathans, too.
Adventures in Logophilia Day 31: katzenjammer (Jillian)
The word for Day 31 is...
Katzenjammer (noun) is distress, depression or confusion resembling that caused by a hangover; a discordant clamor. It is a German word constructed of "cats" and "distress", so it could conceivably refer to the mess left behind by an overly curious cat longing for attention, as well as a pounding headache or a panic attack. Perhaps all three at once.
Thursday, October 11, 2012
Adventures in Logophilia Day 30: Anthropomorphic (jillian)
Today's word is...
Try saying that three times fast! Anthropomorphic (an adjective and proof that if you force yourself to write it out several times you will eventually learn to spell it properly) simply is an act of attributing human qualities to non-humans.
No one was better at this than Beatrix Potter. I grew up with tales of Tom Kitten, Peter Rabbit and Squirrel Nutkin - speaking, getting into trouble, trying to run away from home (and sometimes winding up victim to a family of kitten-hungry rats... roly poly roly...). It filled me with such joy when I heard Emma Thompson, actress and writer, came to write the further adventures of Peter Rabbit. On NPR today, there is an excerpt with illustrations of the new book, and it seems to be as charming as its predecessors. Please take a look!
anthropomorphic
Try saying that three times fast! Anthropomorphic (an adjective and proof that if you force yourself to write it out several times you will eventually learn to spell it properly) simply is an act of attributing human qualities to non-humans.
No one was better at this than Beatrix Potter. I grew up with tales of Tom Kitten, Peter Rabbit and Squirrel Nutkin - speaking, getting into trouble, trying to run away from home (and sometimes winding up victim to a family of kitten-hungry rats... roly poly roly...). It filled me with such joy when I heard Emma Thompson, actress and writer, came to write the further adventures of Peter Rabbit. On NPR today, there is an excerpt with illustrations of the new book, and it seems to be as charming as its predecessors. Please take a look!
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
Adventures in Logophilia Day 27, 28, 29 (Jillian)
It has been a crazy handful of days, so we're playing catch-up here at Daedalus Notes. So... here are three words for today to fill in the days:
Day 27. A cabal (noun, pronounced ka-BAL) is a secret clique or faction (sometimes political) trying to overturn something or have their own way. I attribute this word to Michelle, as she used it several times during our visit. Beware cabals for those in them may not be aware they are cabalists (which is now a word, sort-of-rhyming with "catalysts", and therefore can also be spelled "cabalysts."). They may be lurking in unsuspecting places. They may be the reason for your inexplicable stomach aches or back pains.
Day 28. Something pluvial (an adjective) relates to or is characterized by rainfall; it is ultimately from the Latin word "pluvia" for rain. Yes, we had our rainy days aplenty in New England this last week. Michelle and I spent a few afternoons huddled by the light-box, drinking tea.
Day 29. A mackerel sky (noun) occurs when the sky is dappled with rows of small, white fleecy clouds (cirrocumulus), a pattern which resembles the spots on a mackerel's back. I saw such a sky when Michelle and I were on the boat after seeing whales, heading back into Gloucester, a testament to the near-perfect weather we experienced that day. Whales, mackerel-clouds, water painted silver in the sunwash. What more could one ask for?
And a whimsy for today. The great Salman Rushdie, whose autobiographical work Joseph Anton was published recently, was quoted commenting on Fifty Shades of Grey in the Telegraph: "It made Twilight look like War and Peace." I laughed.
cabal
Day 27. A cabal (noun, pronounced ka-BAL) is a secret clique or faction (sometimes political) trying to overturn something or have their own way. I attribute this word to Michelle, as she used it several times during our visit. Beware cabals for those in them may not be aware they are cabalists (which is now a word, sort-of-rhyming with "catalysts", and therefore can also be spelled "cabalysts."). They may be lurking in unsuspecting places. They may be the reason for your inexplicable stomach aches or back pains.
pluvial
Day 28. Something pluvial (an adjective) relates to or is characterized by rainfall; it is ultimately from the Latin word "pluvia" for rain. Yes, we had our rainy days aplenty in New England this last week. Michelle and I spent a few afternoons huddled by the light-box, drinking tea.
mackerel sky
Day 29. A mackerel sky (noun) occurs when the sky is dappled with rows of small, white fleecy clouds (cirrocumulus), a pattern which resembles the spots on a mackerel's back. I saw such a sky when Michelle and I were on the boat after seeing whales, heading back into Gloucester, a testament to the near-perfect weather we experienced that day. Whales, mackerel-clouds, water painted silver in the sunwash. What more could one ask for?
***
And a whimsy for today. The great Salman Rushdie, whose autobiographical work Joseph Anton was published recently, was quoted commenting on Fifty Shades of Grey in the Telegraph: "It made Twilight look like War and Peace." I laughed.
Sunday, October 7, 2012
Adventures in Logophilia Day 26: fluke (Jillian)
Today's word is...
fluke
A fluke (noun) is many things: (1) an unlikely chance occurrence, (2) a parasitic flat worm (ew); or (3) a triangular plate on the arm of an anchor, or either of the lobes on a whale's tail.
Guess which one I saw yesterday:
I think I saw fluke 1 and 3 yesterday: a chance happening and a whale's tail. Aren't they the same thing? I think so.
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