There was probably as much, if not more, talking than writing in this class, for what are writers if not dreamers?
We started out this class by going around the table and sharing some of our dreams. A lively discussion ensued over some of the particulars, and some of the common aspects to be found in dreams.
Maybe it was because we’re all writers, but I was a little surprise that there were a lot of common themes in our dreams. Our dreams also tended to be vivid and a little on the dark side. And of course we were given time to write down a dream to share. Here’s mine:
A pandemic virus was systematically wiping out mankind. Only those with a certain genetic marker would survive. I was in Toronto with my granddaughter where we were supposed to be able to get help – my daughter had stayed behind to look after her father and her husband.
There was rioting in the cities. Most of them were gone. I don’t know why Toronto, or at least the part of it we were in, was still accessible.
We were wandering the halls of a hospital – it was very crowded. I’m not sure how I knew, but I realized the nice people who appeared to be helping everyone, were actually separating those that appeared to have the genetic marker from those who didn’t.
There was an overly friendly woman – like one of those falsely, overly cheerful people who want you to join their cult. She wanted me to take my granddaughter to this compound. She assured me we’d be safe there, but I somehow knew they were gathering people for experimentation.
I pretended to be excited about the prospect, and persuaded her to let me go back for my daughter and other (non-existent) female members of my family. I guess they got credit or something for anyone they coerced into getting on one of the buses because she was more than happy to wait for me to bring the rest of my family.
It wasn’t easy to leave the city. Abandoned vehicles lined the streets and we had to avoid military like patrols who were searching for survivors to take to the compound. We weren’t the only ones who knew the compound was a bad place, we came across other healthy people who were also avoiding the patrols.
We made our way back home only to find the males of our family were dead – my husband and all of his family, and my daughter’s husband. We knew we weren’t safe where we were and decided to make our way to New Brunswick where my sister was. For some unknown reason, it was a safe haven.
After sharing the dreams we wrote down, we talked about methods for remembering dreams and ways dreams can aid in the writing process. Here are a few things we came up with:
Keep your story in mind as you fall asleep.
Use lucid dreaming techniques
“Sleeping on it” really can solve problems.
Set an alarm to wake yourself up during REM sleep.
Look for the elements in your dream that work – a theme or a feeling. You don’t have to use every part of your dream.
When you wake up, you have only a few seconds to remember your dream before it’s lost. If you leave the bedroom, “passing the threshold” as it were, you won’t remember. So stay on this side of the threshold.
Write down your dream while you’re still in bed.
Dream imagery can provide the weirdness that takes a story in a new direction.
Day dreaming can be used as a space for writing.
There is a lot of overlap between how to write and how to dream.
If you’d like to delve a little further into the subject of dreams and writing, here are a few links to check out:
How to Use Your Dreams to Inspire Your Fiction
Dream a Little Dream: Using Dreams in Literature
Deep Lucid Dreaming – wake up in your dreams for a happier, more creative life
Do You Dream In Paragraphs? Mine Your Dreams For Writing Ideas
Use Your Dreams to Be Endlessly Creative
Bartelomeo Cristofori dreamed ... and invented the piano.
Sunday, April 29, 2018
Wednesday, April 25, 2018
Iroha Mokigusari
Yowsa! This form was a bit of a challenge. But then I kind of like a challenge.
Some of my favorite forms are the Japanese ones. Even though they usually have a strict 5/7 syllable count, at least you don’t have to worry about rhymes. All you need for most of them is a good thesaurus that includes the number of syllables in a word. :-)
The Iroha Mokigusari is an ancient Japanese form and seeing as I can neither read nor write Japanese I have to trust the western interpretation of it. It’s described as a perfect pangram, meaning it contains each character of the Japanese syllabary once only.
For our purposes, its best described as a Japanese alphabet poem. It differs from our western alphabet poems (in which each line starts with a letter of the alphabet starting with A and continuing in descending order) in that it follows the normal 5/7 pattern of syllables, and the first and last letter of each line follow the alphabet.
The structure looks like this:
axxxb
cxxxxxd
exxxf
gxxxxxh
ixxxj
and so on…
One example I found of this form was called Nonsense, a fitting title because it’s almost impossible to write a poem under these restrictions that makes sense.
My attempt has no title.
A question that’s dumb,
Can you fly like a buzzard?
Even without proof,
Given your innate hutzpah,
I believe in Raj –
Knew you were always playful,
Maybe brave even.
Only watch for a breakup –
Quicker than ever,
Starlight is shining at night
Under an improv
Winter moon; like a phoenix
You shine like glitz.
Some of my favorite forms are the Japanese ones. Even though they usually have a strict 5/7 syllable count, at least you don’t have to worry about rhymes. All you need for most of them is a good thesaurus that includes the number of syllables in a word. :-)
The Iroha Mokigusari is an ancient Japanese form and seeing as I can neither read nor write Japanese I have to trust the western interpretation of it. It’s described as a perfect pangram, meaning it contains each character of the Japanese syllabary once only.
For our purposes, its best described as a Japanese alphabet poem. It differs from our western alphabet poems (in which each line starts with a letter of the alphabet starting with A and continuing in descending order) in that it follows the normal 5/7 pattern of syllables, and the first and last letter of each line follow the alphabet.
The structure looks like this:
axxxb
cxxxxxd
exxxf
gxxxxxh
ixxxj
and so on…
One example I found of this form was called Nonsense, a fitting title because it’s almost impossible to write a poem under these restrictions that makes sense.
My attempt has no title.
A question that’s dumb,
Can you fly like a buzzard?
Even without proof,
Given your innate hutzpah,
I believe in Raj –
Knew you were always playful,
Maybe brave even.
Only watch for a breakup –
Quicker than ever,
Starlight is shining at night
Under an improv
Winter moon; like a phoenix
You shine like glitz.
Monday, April 23, 2018
The End…Almost
I don’t think I’ve been complaining about the weather too much here, I’ve been saving it mostly for my other blog. Suffice it to say we’ve been enduring a long string of grey, wet, snowy, grey, icy, wet, grey days for what seems like forever. However, that changed late on Friday when this strange light appeared in the sky. It was round and yellow, and gave off not only light, but warmth! It was…awe inspiring!
But while everyone else seemed to spend as much time as possible outside soaking up vitamin D on Saturday, I spent most of my time in my office. This was the big push to get my office organized. I moved the bookcase that was against the wall behind my desk to its new home under the window – it’s just slightly shorter than the window ledge and it fits under there nicely.
I had tried the desk closer to the window, but it just didn’t feel right, so on Saturday I tried butting it up against the wall and that was a little better, but was still a little off. After last Monday’s post, I actually looked up feng shui for an office, and I recalled that several of the floor plans had the desk set at an angle (to face both the door and the window). So keeping that in mind, I gave it a try.
Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner!
Not only does it give me extra space behind my desk, it makes it feel like there’s more space in front of it too. Fuelled by my success, I dragged the box holding the parts of my newest bookcase into the living room and put it together. It turned out to be a little narrower and a little higher than I’d expected, but it works on the wall where the other bookcase had been.
My large boss’s chair was still a little big for that space, so I gave it to the hubby – he was spending more time at his desk anyway so it seemed only fair – intending to use the somewhat rickety secretary’s chair he’d been using until I could find something better. Only he had a rather nice pair of office chairs in the music room and with the way his equipment was now set up he only had room for one. It’s actually a lot more comfortable than I expected and is just the right size.
So. The desk area is set up to my satisfaction, but I didn’t have enough time left to get the reading area sorted out. I’m getting rid of the wooden filing cabinet my tea station was on – I wasn’t really using the drawers for anything, it was more just something to fit the tea station on. It’ll fit just as nicely on top of the tiny book case in the reading area, and it makes more sense to have it there. Now all that’s left is a reading chair.
Yesterday the hubby and I made a pilgrimage to Peterborough in search of a chair. We didn’t find a chair, but we did find a new dining room set. LOL I did see my dream chair, but it was way too big for the space I have. And it wasn’t as comfortable as I remember it being. So today, after babysitting, we’re going up to Ikea in Toronto to get the chair I almost bought a couple of weeks ago. Only this time it’s on sale. :-D
With any luck, next week’s post will have pictures.
But while everyone else seemed to spend as much time as possible outside soaking up vitamin D on Saturday, I spent most of my time in my office. This was the big push to get my office organized. I moved the bookcase that was against the wall behind my desk to its new home under the window – it’s just slightly shorter than the window ledge and it fits under there nicely.
I had tried the desk closer to the window, but it just didn’t feel right, so on Saturday I tried butting it up against the wall and that was a little better, but was still a little off. After last Monday’s post, I actually looked up feng shui for an office, and I recalled that several of the floor plans had the desk set at an angle (to face both the door and the window). So keeping that in mind, I gave it a try.
Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner!
Not only does it give me extra space behind my desk, it makes it feel like there’s more space in front of it too. Fuelled by my success, I dragged the box holding the parts of my newest bookcase into the living room and put it together. It turned out to be a little narrower and a little higher than I’d expected, but it works on the wall where the other bookcase had been.
My large boss’s chair was still a little big for that space, so I gave it to the hubby – he was spending more time at his desk anyway so it seemed only fair – intending to use the somewhat rickety secretary’s chair he’d been using until I could find something better. Only he had a rather nice pair of office chairs in the music room and with the way his equipment was now set up he only had room for one. It’s actually a lot more comfortable than I expected and is just the right size.
So. The desk area is set up to my satisfaction, but I didn’t have enough time left to get the reading area sorted out. I’m getting rid of the wooden filing cabinet my tea station was on – I wasn’t really using the drawers for anything, it was more just something to fit the tea station on. It’ll fit just as nicely on top of the tiny book case in the reading area, and it makes more sense to have it there. Now all that’s left is a reading chair.
Yesterday the hubby and I made a pilgrimage to Peterborough in search of a chair. We didn’t find a chair, but we did find a new dining room set. LOL I did see my dream chair, but it was way too big for the space I have. And it wasn’t as comfortable as I remember it being. So today, after babysitting, we’re going up to Ikea in Toronto to get the chair I almost bought a couple of weeks ago. Only this time it’s on sale. :-D
With any luck, next week’s post will have pictures.
Friday, April 20, 2018
Speculative Poetry
Speculative fiction and poetry – what an interesting combination!
We started out this week’s class by reading some poetry by Sandra Kasturi to give us an idea of just what was meant by speculative poetry. It’s pretty much the same thing as speculative fiction, albeit in poetic form – words embracing the fantastic, the mythic, and science fiction themes.
This was followed by a discussion of what kind of elements can be found in a speculative poem, and this in turn was followed by some free writing time. The idea was to keep some of these elements in mind as we tried to write a speculative poem. I have to be honest here, I really hate being rushed when it comes to poetry. I like to be able to take my time and mull an idea over. This is the unedited poem I came up with in the allotted time:
bitter rain lashes the darkness
on the deck railing, mourning doves huddle
feathers puffed out
the others come, one by one
summoned
chickadee, sparrow, grackle
they gather, like crystals of ice
summoned
the others come, one by one
thrush, cardinal, blackbird
summoned
the tree above becomes weighted down
the others come, one by one
summoned
nuthatch , swallow, jay
they speak with one voice
their voices weave together
great wings sheltering
necromancer raven
cast your spell,
cast your spell
This is what happens when you rush me. :-)
The next exercise was a little more fun. The instructor introduced the class to erasure poetry. It’s very similar to blackout poetry, except instead of blacking out the text around the words, you erase it. We weren’t able to do any actual erasing, what we did instead was circle the words for our poems. We were also asked to give our poem a title. I found mine in the text, it means “happy meeting place.”
Here’s a picture of what mine looked like on the pages:
And here it is written out so you can actually read it:
Yarrawarra
Questions asked in a deeper understanding
had no boundaries.
Conversations and stories intersect;
ink and bottle showed a broken domestic story.
Uncovered interest objects –
thus, story was kept contextualized.
The history of stories exchange meanings.
Each story is recognized –
universal conversation can describe stories,
embed the meaning of place and history.
Distinct knowledge happens.
Evidence of a girl studying,
understanding the unexpected.
There remains artefacts, living fragments,
of corrugated experiences.
Parallel stories support example.
The final exercise was my favourite. The instructor had us break up into pairs so we could collaborate on a poem, taking turns writing each line. It was actually a lot of fun:
I beg you please
To listen to my words
For each, and every, means something
Different to the individual being
Birth, a start
And life, a continuance
Of wonder, mistake and love
Of joy and happiness
Death, an end
Which itself is only the beginning
For memories, we have a many
To buoy us up when we would fall
To sail away, from each and every tempest
And find a safe harbour
Land, I beg of you please
To listen to my words
If you’re still curious about speculative poetry, check out the following links:
Liminality (a magazine of speculative poetry)
Locus Online
Strange Horizons
We started out this week’s class by reading some poetry by Sandra Kasturi to give us an idea of just what was meant by speculative poetry. It’s pretty much the same thing as speculative fiction, albeit in poetic form – words embracing the fantastic, the mythic, and science fiction themes.
This was followed by a discussion of what kind of elements can be found in a speculative poem, and this in turn was followed by some free writing time. The idea was to keep some of these elements in mind as we tried to write a speculative poem. I have to be honest here, I really hate being rushed when it comes to poetry. I like to be able to take my time and mull an idea over. This is the unedited poem I came up with in the allotted time:
bitter rain lashes the darkness
on the deck railing, mourning doves huddle
feathers puffed out
the others come, one by one
summoned
chickadee, sparrow, grackle
they gather, like crystals of ice
summoned
the others come, one by one
thrush, cardinal, blackbird
summoned
the tree above becomes weighted down
the others come, one by one
summoned
nuthatch , swallow, jay
they speak with one voice
their voices weave together
great wings sheltering
necromancer raven
cast your spell,
cast your spell
This is what happens when you rush me. :-)
The next exercise was a little more fun. The instructor introduced the class to erasure poetry. It’s very similar to blackout poetry, except instead of blacking out the text around the words, you erase it. We weren’t able to do any actual erasing, what we did instead was circle the words for our poems. We were also asked to give our poem a title. I found mine in the text, it means “happy meeting place.”
Here’s a picture of what mine looked like on the pages:
And here it is written out so you can actually read it:
Yarrawarra
Questions asked in a deeper understanding
had no boundaries.
Conversations and stories intersect;
ink and bottle showed a broken domestic story.
Uncovered interest objects –
thus, story was kept contextualized.
The history of stories exchange meanings.
Each story is recognized –
universal conversation can describe stories,
embed the meaning of place and history.
Distinct knowledge happens.
Evidence of a girl studying,
understanding the unexpected.
There remains artefacts, living fragments,
of corrugated experiences.
Parallel stories support example.
The final exercise was my favourite. The instructor had us break up into pairs so we could collaborate on a poem, taking turns writing each line. It was actually a lot of fun:
I beg you please
To listen to my words
For each, and every, means something
Different to the individual being
Birth, a start
And life, a continuance
Of wonder, mistake and love
Of joy and happiness
Death, an end
Which itself is only the beginning
For memories, we have a many
To buoy us up when we would fall
To sail away, from each and every tempest
And find a safe harbour
Land, I beg of you please
To listen to my words
If you’re still curious about speculative poetry, check out the following links:
Liminality (a magazine of speculative poetry)
Locus Online
Strange Horizons
Wednesday, April 18, 2018
Clogyrnach
There’s nothing worse than staying up late to schedule a poetry post and then have it somehow disappear. I don’t know what happened – I checked the preview before scheduling last night and it looked fine but this morning when I looked all I had was a title. I'm glad I checked!
I had really hoped to present a new (to me) form each Wednesday through the month of April, it being National Poetry Month and all, but poetry can be time consuming to write at the best of times and some forms even more so. That pesky thing called life got a little busy last week and I just didn't have the time for a new form so I had to settle for one I've already given a try.
You may recall me mentioning the codified Welsh meters in last week’s post, so I figured this week I’d share one of the few I’ve tried. There are 24 codified meters in Welsh poetry, divided into three categories: the Englynion, the Cywydd, and the Awdl. Today’s form is the 16th, an Awdl, called the Clogyrnach (clog-ír-nach). Despite it being one of the easiest ones you don’t see it used much these days, but in ancient times the Awdls were the territory of the chief or master bard.
The Clogyrnach contains thirty-two syllables in a six-line stanza. The first two lines have eight syllables each; the second two, five; the third two, three. The last two lines may be written as a single, six-syllable line. There are only two rhymes per stanza, and there can be any number of stanzas.
Technically, it looks like this:
x x x x x x x a
x x x x x x x a
x x x x b
x x x x b
x x b
x x a
If you join the last two lines together to make one six-syllable line, it's important to keep the rhymes in the same place, so if you do that your last line will have the b rhyme in the middle:
x x x x x x x a
x x x x x x x a
x x x x b
x x x x b
x x b x x a
Of course I used the traditional format for my example. I found the five syllable lines to be the most difficult, especially following the eight syllable lines – I kept wanting to write four syllables or six syllables instead.
Dreamscape
An earthen sky of amber hue
A canvas on which dreams may brew
A zephyr blowing
Past rivers flowing
Unknowing
You pass through.
A stormy sea of hopes and dreams
Where nothing is quite like it seems
Reality skewed
Sanity unglued
Changing mood
Endless themes.
No order to the chaos here
Where wisdom’s just a thin veneer
Passions are higher
Truth is a liar
Misfire
Wake from here.
I had really hoped to present a new (to me) form each Wednesday through the month of April, it being National Poetry Month and all, but poetry can be time consuming to write at the best of times and some forms even more so. That pesky thing called life got a little busy last week and I just didn't have the time for a new form so I had to settle for one I've already given a try.
You may recall me mentioning the codified Welsh meters in last week’s post, so I figured this week I’d share one of the few I’ve tried. There are 24 codified meters in Welsh poetry, divided into three categories: the Englynion, the Cywydd, and the Awdl. Today’s form is the 16th, an Awdl, called the Clogyrnach (clog-ír-nach). Despite it being one of the easiest ones you don’t see it used much these days, but in ancient times the Awdls were the territory of the chief or master bard.
The Clogyrnach contains thirty-two syllables in a six-line stanza. The first two lines have eight syllables each; the second two, five; the third two, three. The last two lines may be written as a single, six-syllable line. There are only two rhymes per stanza, and there can be any number of stanzas.
Technically, it looks like this:
x x x x x x x a
x x x x x x x a
x x x x b
x x x x b
x x b
x x a
If you join the last two lines together to make one six-syllable line, it's important to keep the rhymes in the same place, so if you do that your last line will have the b rhyme in the middle:
x x x x x x x a
x x x x x x x a
x x x x b
x x x x b
x x b x x a
Of course I used the traditional format for my example. I found the five syllable lines to be the most difficult, especially following the eight syllable lines – I kept wanting to write four syllables or six syllables instead.
Dreamscape
An earthen sky of amber hue
A canvas on which dreams may brew
A zephyr blowing
Past rivers flowing
Unknowing
You pass through.
A stormy sea of hopes and dreams
Where nothing is quite like it seems
Reality skewed
Sanity unglued
Changing mood
Endless themes.
No order to the chaos here
Where wisdom’s just a thin veneer
Passions are higher
Truth is a liar
Misfire
Wake from here.
Monday, April 16, 2018
A Funny Thing Happened…
… on the way to becoming more productive. AKA excuse #0573 for not writing.
The way my new office is laid out, the desk throws a shadow on itself. I have a desk lamp, and of course my spiffy new lap top has a back lit keyboard, but there’s just something about that layout that bugs me. I keep wanting to turn and face west, which puts the desk on my left.
So I spent most of Saturday rearranging my furniture. It’s not as though I could go anywhere, after all. We were in the midst of a raging ice storm. It started out as rain, moved on to ice pellets, then by noon it was freezing rain. In the morning the water on the tarp covering the pool was clear, but as the day continued I watched the steady progression of the ice until it was fully covered. It was kind of neat, although I’m sure I wouldn’t have thought so if I’d had to leave the house for anything.
Laugh if you want, but I think there’s something to be said for the idea of feng shui. I didn’t consult a book or Google it or anything, but I can’t help feel that if I get my office set up in just the right way, I’m going to start being more productive. Maybe I’m crazy, but there you go.
And that is how I ended up spending most of my Saturday cleaning the stuff off my desk and cursing and swearing as I moved stuff around. I stopped when it started to get dark because I wasn’t sure how long the power would last and I didn’t want to be in the middle of something if the lights went out. Although I enjoy the romance of candle light, it’s not exactly the safest thing around stacks of papers and books.
But while I didn’t trust the power to stay on to work in my office, I had no problem with it staying on so I could start binge watching the new Lost In Space series on Netflix. :-D
I loved that show as a kid, and in fact I have the complete series on DVD. I enjoyed the movie with Matt LeBlanc in it too. Normally I don’t like when they make a lot of changes to old favourites – don’t get me started on the changes made to Battlestar Galactica – but I have to say, I love how they’ve updated Lost In Space. I don’t even mind that they turned Dr. Smith into a woman.
But I digress.
None of the changes I made to the arrangement of my desk felt right so in the end I moved everything back the way it was. Of course I’m not ready to give up quite yet, I had another couple of ideas on Sunday, but it was so late in the day by that time that I didn’t have a chance to test them.
After all, I had blog posts to write. ;-)
The way my new office is laid out, the desk throws a shadow on itself. I have a desk lamp, and of course my spiffy new lap top has a back lit keyboard, but there’s just something about that layout that bugs me. I keep wanting to turn and face west, which puts the desk on my left.
So I spent most of Saturday rearranging my furniture. It’s not as though I could go anywhere, after all. We were in the midst of a raging ice storm. It started out as rain, moved on to ice pellets, then by noon it was freezing rain. In the morning the water on the tarp covering the pool was clear, but as the day continued I watched the steady progression of the ice until it was fully covered. It was kind of neat, although I’m sure I wouldn’t have thought so if I’d had to leave the house for anything.
Laugh if you want, but I think there’s something to be said for the idea of feng shui. I didn’t consult a book or Google it or anything, but I can’t help feel that if I get my office set up in just the right way, I’m going to start being more productive. Maybe I’m crazy, but there you go.
And that is how I ended up spending most of my Saturday cleaning the stuff off my desk and cursing and swearing as I moved stuff around. I stopped when it started to get dark because I wasn’t sure how long the power would last and I didn’t want to be in the middle of something if the lights went out. Although I enjoy the romance of candle light, it’s not exactly the safest thing around stacks of papers and books.
But while I didn’t trust the power to stay on to work in my office, I had no problem with it staying on so I could start binge watching the new Lost In Space series on Netflix. :-D
I loved that show as a kid, and in fact I have the complete series on DVD. I enjoyed the movie with Matt LeBlanc in it too. Normally I don’t like when they make a lot of changes to old favourites – don’t get me started on the changes made to Battlestar Galactica – but I have to say, I love how they’ve updated Lost In Space. I don’t even mind that they turned Dr. Smith into a woman.
But I digress.
None of the changes I made to the arrangement of my desk felt right so in the end I moved everything back the way it was. Of course I’m not ready to give up quite yet, I had another couple of ideas on Sunday, but it was so late in the day by that time that I didn’t have a chance to test them.
After all, I had blog posts to write. ;-)
Friday, April 13, 2018
Adjectives and Adverbs
If nothing else, I’m having fun with these Wednesday night writing classes. You wouldn’t think something like adjectives and adverbs would be fun, but it was. :-)
Of course you all know what they are, right?
***crickets chirping***
That’s okay, far be it for me to judge. For most people the parts of a sentence rank right up there with calculus and algebra – you have a vague recollection of learning them in high school, declared “when will I ever use this in real life?” and upon graduation promptly forgot everything you ever knew about them.
An adjective modifies, or describes, a noun (person, place or thing) – the old woman, the green grass, the frozen wasteland. An adverb modifies, or describes, a verb (an action word) – walk quickly, search frantically, sleep peacefully.
Our first exercise was just twenty minutes of free writing. You could hear the sighs of relief around the table at not having to dive right into the lesson. LOL
I actually work better from a prompt than being told to just write whatever you want, and I just happened to have this month’s prose prompt from Brazen Snake Books with me: A man running to catch a train/bus/cab drops a red rose. A woman picks it up, and finds a note wrapped around the stem.
Here’s what I came up with in the allotted time:
The train station was busy as usual. Catherine kept a death grip on her purse as she was buffeted by the sea of humanity.
“Oof!” One elbow jab to the side was particularly sharp. She opened her mouth to yell at the man who’d jostled her so rudely, but he was already too far away to hear. He was tall and dark haired, a business man by the look of him. He must be in an almighty hurry to get to wherever he was going, she thought, watching him elbow his way to the waiting train. Probably late for a meeting or something, although that was no excuse.
“Ha! Serves you right!” she said.
He’d tripped on the edge of the platform as he boarded the train, nearly losing his newspaper. Something else fell instead, something that had been nestled in the paper’s folds, and her last glimpse of him was the resigned look on his face as he stared down at the platform as the train pulled away.
The crowd was beginning to thin and curious, she worked her way towards the edge of the platform.
It was a long stemmed rose. She glance around but no one else appeared to notice it. Or if they did they didn’t care. Hesitantly, she bend down and picked it up. There was a note wrapped around the stem. With a shiver of excitement, she unfolded the paper.
I suppose it shouldn’t be a surprise that the next part of the assignment was to underline (using different kinds of lines) every noun, adjective, verb, and adverb. It made for quite a messy page, but it gave each of us an idea of the number of them used in our pieces.
What followed was a spirited discussion of words and word usage and upcharging a verb plus adverb. Example: instead of “she ran very fast,” you could simply say “she raced.” Or instead of “he talked very loudly” you could say “he shouted.”
Word choices, too, can be important because many words have more than one meaning. Like bark. It can mean the outer layer of a tree, or the noise a dog makes. Novel can be a book or something new – a novel experience.
When it comes to adjectives and adverbs, you need to keep three things in mind:
1. Are they needed?
2. Do they add to the story?
3. Could they be taken away?
For the next exercise we came up with a list of nouns and in a second column an adjective for each – shoe, expensive; bar, shiny; tea, green; watch, broken; space ship, dusty; table, solid; universe, limitless. Then the instructor mixed it up a bit by rearranging the order of the adjectives so we had: broken shoe; dusty bar; expensive tea; green watch; limitless space ship; shining table; solid universe. Then we were asked to chose two or three pairs of words and write a short piece.
You know me, I love a challenge. I managed to use all the pairs. But I’ll warn you, it makes better sense if you know who Doctor Who is. ;-)
I swaggered up to the dusty bar and ordered an expensive tea. The waiter who brought my drink over to the shiny table was wearing a broken shoe. I checked my green watch and realized I was out of time. The Doctor would be waiting for me in his limitless spaceship. Tossing back my tea, I threw a couple of bills onto the table and hurried away, eager to explore the solid universe.
Wednesday, April 11, 2018
Canzone
The Canzone comes to us from medieval Italy. Once upon a time I thought the most difficult form I ever stumbled across was the Sestina. Then I discovered the 24 coded Welsh metres. *shudder* The Canzone isn’t quite as bad as the Welsh poetry forms, but it definitely beats out the Sestina.
With the Sestina you have six key words that are each used to end one line in each of the six verses in a prearranged pattern. The Canzone only uses five key words, but each of the five verses has twelve lines, with a five line envoi at the end. You see the problem? There’s a lot of repetition.
The layout is as follows:
Stanza 1: abaacaaddaee
Stanza 2: eaeebeeccedd
Stanza 3: deddaddbbdcc
Stanza 4: cdcceccaacbb
Stanza 5: bcbbdbbeebaa
Envoi: abcde
My words: dream moon night grave soul
My poem:
The Waking Dream
The night calls to you in a dream…
High above shines bright the moon –
Embrace the path within the dream,
Immerse yourself into the dream.
The moon, a beacon in the night
Guides you through the land of dream,
Illuminates the waking dream.
Seek the truth beyond the grave
There must be more than just the grave.
The truth is hidden in a dream
You know this in your deepest soul,
The silent longing of the soul.
The night holds hostage to your soul
As you continue in your dream.
A secret longing fills your soul
Of things forgotten by your soul
Remembered only by the moon
Whose light shines down upon your soul,
The cool, pale stream that soothes your soul
As you wander through the night,
A shining beacon in the night.
The lustre comes now from your soul
Which comes from far beyond the grave –
You’re not quite ready for the grave.
The look upon your face is grave,
You stop and contemplate your soul.
The end is more than just the grave
So cold and alien, the grave –
Or so it seems within the dream
That blindly leads you to the grave.
With nothing else beyond the grave
That lies beneath the shadowed moon
You seek the peace within the moon –
And find yourself beyond the grave
That lies here in the darkest night,
Strange vision of the tortured night.
And here you are, lost in the night
Now searching for that shadowed grave
Within the dark and empty night,
A deep and dark and mystic night
That spills into your very soul
To show you what is truly night
Before you pass into the night
And leave behind your waking dream –
No memory left, merely the dream
That calls you to embrace the night
Beneath the silvered hunter’s moon –
Stand up straight, drink down the moon.
Ah, gentle, passive, mother moon
A beacon in the darkest night.
A haunting sight, the gravid moon
Yet shadows long cast by the moon
Fall upon the empty grave.
Another aspect of the moon
Here in the dark night of the moon
That calls out to the willing soul,
Enticing those who have a soul
To worship peace and seek the moon
As it appears within the dream,
But only in the waking dream
Perhaps this is the end of dream.
Fill your cup, drink down the moon
And leave behind the darkened night
Find your truth beyond the grave
There is a cleansing of your soul.
With the Sestina you have six key words that are each used to end one line in each of the six verses in a prearranged pattern. The Canzone only uses five key words, but each of the five verses has twelve lines, with a five line envoi at the end. You see the problem? There’s a lot of repetition.
The layout is as follows:
Stanza 1: abaacaaddaee
Stanza 2: eaeebeeccedd
Stanza 3: deddaddbbdcc
Stanza 4: cdcceccaacbb
Stanza 5: bcbbdbbeebaa
Envoi: abcde
My words: dream moon night grave soul
My poem:
The Waking Dream
The night calls to you in a dream…
High above shines bright the moon –
Embrace the path within the dream,
Immerse yourself into the dream.
The moon, a beacon in the night
Guides you through the land of dream,
Illuminates the waking dream.
Seek the truth beyond the grave
There must be more than just the grave.
The truth is hidden in a dream
You know this in your deepest soul,
The silent longing of the soul.
The night holds hostage to your soul
As you continue in your dream.
A secret longing fills your soul
Of things forgotten by your soul
Remembered only by the moon
Whose light shines down upon your soul,
The cool, pale stream that soothes your soul
As you wander through the night,
A shining beacon in the night.
The lustre comes now from your soul
Which comes from far beyond the grave –
You’re not quite ready for the grave.
The look upon your face is grave,
You stop and contemplate your soul.
The end is more than just the grave
So cold and alien, the grave –
Or so it seems within the dream
That blindly leads you to the grave.
With nothing else beyond the grave
That lies beneath the shadowed moon
You seek the peace within the moon –
And find yourself beyond the grave
That lies here in the darkest night,
Strange vision of the tortured night.
And here you are, lost in the night
Now searching for that shadowed grave
Within the dark and empty night,
A deep and dark and mystic night
That spills into your very soul
To show you what is truly night
Before you pass into the night
And leave behind your waking dream –
No memory left, merely the dream
That calls you to embrace the night
Beneath the silvered hunter’s moon –
Stand up straight, drink down the moon.
Ah, gentle, passive, mother moon
A beacon in the darkest night.
A haunting sight, the gravid moon
Yet shadows long cast by the moon
Fall upon the empty grave.
Another aspect of the moon
Here in the dark night of the moon
That calls out to the willing soul,
Enticing those who have a soul
To worship peace and seek the moon
As it appears within the dream,
But only in the waking dream
Perhaps this is the end of dream.
Fill your cup, drink down the moon
And leave behind the darkened night
Find your truth beyond the grave
There is a cleansing of your soul.
Monday, April 9, 2018
State of the Stuff Address
I thought that sounded cooler than “Progress Report.” Hey, what do you want from me? It’s early and I’ve only had one coffee so far. LOL
There’s really only two things I want to report on – the progress of my office, and the progress of Wandering Wizards (the 3rd Moonstone Chronicle). If you’re a regular reader of this blog then you already know I seem to be back on track with Passion For Poetry Wednesdays and Fiction Fridays.
So first, the office. When I get my office finished (if that ever happens) I will create a new page at the top to chronicle my journey. However, that day is not even close yet. I’ve run into a bit of a snag when it comes to clearing out the pile of “stuff” in the corner where I want to put a comfy reading chair.
First of all, my (spoiled) 18-year-old cat discovered the shag carpet in the bottom of the storage closet and has taken to sleeping in there during the day. Which means I can’t rearrange the stuff on the shelves to make room for the stuff in the corner because I don’t want to disturb him.
And I don’t want to hear from any of you non-cat/animal lovers telling me to just move the cat or shut the door or whatever. He’s 18, and the other two cats kind of pick on him, and he doesn’t ask for much except a comfy place to sleep. Not only am I keeping the closet door open for him, I’m keeping the office door open for him, despite the fact that one of the other cats got his nose out of joint and sprayed the canvas board I had leaning up in front of the small bookcase. Twice. Which is why the pile of stuff is now safely tucked under a plastic cover and access to the rest of the room is limited.
At some point I’m going to get a baby gate for the door (no worries about anyone jumping the gate, they’re too old and fat) so I can have the door open but don’t have to worry about anyone’s indiscretions in there. It’s a southern exposure so there’s no way I can keep the door shut in the summer. But…I can’t do that until Taz finds a new favourite place to sleep. Which he will eventually, he likes to move around.
I’m at the point where I can use my desk, although I need a new desk chair because the space is a little cramped with the big one from my old office and I keep knocking stuff over on my desk and the bookcase behind me every time I move. Loving my new computer, although the delete key is in a different spot which kind of throws me off and I’m still not happy with Windows 10. I know, suck it buttercup, it had to happen sooner or later.
On the weekend I set up the new laser printer and now I can connect wirelessly to it and the inkjet in the other room. Go me! And in the process of trying to install it onto the hubby’s lap top I inadvertently fixed whatever the problem was he was having to connect wirelessly to the ink jet printer. Which was really weird because I couldn’t install the laser – for some reason his autorun isn’t working and I couldn’t find the DVD drive (he has Windows 10 too).
As you know, I’ve been struggling with the second half of Wandering Wizards for some time now. There was something off about it and I just couldn’t figure out what. Well, I finally figured it out. And I don’t know if it’s a good thing or a bad thing. It’s good because I figured it out, but it’s bad because it’s going to take a lot of work to fix it.
To put it simply, it’s still Jessica’s story, but there’s very little Jessica in it. Until she meets up with her friends again on page 129, she only appears twice, and only for about a page each time. So yeah, she needs to have a bigger presence – keep adjusting to her powers, come to terms with her new life, maybe have a fight or two with Dominic, whatever.
So there we have it. The state of the “stuff” I’ve been working on and will be working on this week. Wednesday’s class is Inspiration From Dreams, so be sure to check back Friday to see what I came up with.
For that matter, check back Wednesday too to see what my poem for National Poetry month is. :-D
Friday, April 6, 2018
Inspiration From Music
This was a really interesting class. While I’m aware that many authors like to create playlists of music to go with their writing, I’ve never really given it much thought myself. I prefer the quiet, for the most part, or something instrumental. More like just background noise.
As for being inspired by music…. I listened to the sounds of nature on the galaxy channels on the television when I was writing a NaNo novel a couple of years ago, and I sometimes listen to Celtic themed music when writing the Moonstone Chronicles. But that was more to get me in the mood to write, which isn’t the same as having a song inspire me to write something.
To be honest, I feel that music videos or songs with lyrics are already telling their own story so I found our first assignment a little difficult. We watched two music videos, and were asked to write our take on what the music was saying.
Janelle Monae – Many Moons
Viktoria Modesta - Prototype
I chose the second one, and this is what I was inspired to write:
She was whole when it began, when the rebellious seed took root in her soul. And she was young, so young, so full of fire. She was surrounded by sheep, people content to be told what to do and how to live - for their own good, or so they were brainwashed into believing. She never believed. She would lead by example – damn the torpedoes, full steam ahead! The first time she was caught she was chastised for her rebellious thoughts and released. The second they tried reason, and then imprisonment. Believing she’d learned her lesson, she was released. The third time they took her limb, thinking to cripple her in both body and spirit. But like a phoenix she rose from the ashes stronger, singing her song. Though many feared the freedom she sang of, others saw her as a beacon of hope in a hopeless world. Each time she had been struck down she rose again stronger. Her presence was felt everywhere. Her courage was an inspiration. She must be stopped. She could not be stopped.
Just so you know, all the pieces I’m sharing that were written in class are unedited.
After the videos we listened to three pieces of audio only. Yes, I know it’s possible to work some techy magic so you can click and just hear the music, but I am not a techno wizard so you’re stuck with the full videos. All except for the first one.
The first piece we listened to was a classical piece by Dvorak, and I didn’t catch which one so I guess you’ll just have to use your imagination as to what it sounds like. It put me in mind of a silent movie so my piece turned out more like a review of the movie than a story.
The adventure starts with a pith-helmeted explorer in deepest Africa. He must fight his way through the jungle, follow a dangerous trail up a mountain where one misstep could mean certain death, and battle his fiercesome adversary to save the innocent heroine. The hero is victorious, and together he and the heroine travel towards a bright future together. But wait! Tragedy falls. They become separated. Each must journey onwards, alone, believing the other to be lost. But there is a light on the horizon and as they are about to lose all hope they are reunited for their happily ever after.
Okay, so it’s not the best writing I’ve ever done, but the point of taking these classes is to try out new things. This is kind of like doodling in the margins of a notebook – sometimes the doodle is good enough to be framed, and sometimes it looks like my granddaughter got a hold of my book. LOL
The second piece we listened to had lyrics, and most of us were familiar with it – White Rabbit, by Jefferson Airplane. Despite the lyrics, I had an easier time envisioning a story. I focused on just the music at first, but I think knowing the song also coloured my take on it.
Down twisted streets I flee, the gang bangers hot on my heels. The air is hot, almost stifling. The walls of the barrio feel like they’re closing in on me. I shouldn’t be here, I knew that, but I had to find her, Alice, my baby sister. It had been days since she disappeared. I’d run out of leads and was left with rumours, now those rumours were going to get me killed. Footsteps slapped the wet pavement – mine, theirs. Steam rose where the hot sun touched the stones made cold by a sudden shower. My clothes cling to skin made damp from both rain and fear. My breathing is laboured, my limbs leaden. I’m so tired, but I’ll keep going as long as I need to. Wait for me Alice. Don’t let me fall down the rabbit hole without you.
For the third and final piece we were played a song in Hindi. I guess finding inspiration from music must take practice because I found this one even easier. Just an FYI, technically Nataraja is the aspect of Shiva that is known as an ecstatic dancer, but Shiva was the one the music called to my mind.
I am Shiva. Come to me. Come and dance.
Dance for me. Dance with me. Dance in praise of me. Dance your soul away.
Heed the call. Do not deny me. Do not ignore me. Do not deny your nature.
Feel the music in your blood. Feel me in your blood. Feel your heart pound.
Dance with me.
Raise your hands. Stamp your feet. Turn and spin. Dance.
Dance for me. Do not stop. Praise my name, for I am Shiva.
Dance for me. Do not pause. Do not stop. Dance.
Dance your soul away.
Dance.
As for being inspired by music…. I listened to the sounds of nature on the galaxy channels on the television when I was writing a NaNo novel a couple of years ago, and I sometimes listen to Celtic themed music when writing the Moonstone Chronicles. But that was more to get me in the mood to write, which isn’t the same as having a song inspire me to write something.
To be honest, I feel that music videos or songs with lyrics are already telling their own story so I found our first assignment a little difficult. We watched two music videos, and were asked to write our take on what the music was saying.
Janelle Monae – Many Moons
Viktoria Modesta - Prototype
I chose the second one, and this is what I was inspired to write:
She was whole when it began, when the rebellious seed took root in her soul. And she was young, so young, so full of fire. She was surrounded by sheep, people content to be told what to do and how to live - for their own good, or so they were brainwashed into believing. She never believed. She would lead by example – damn the torpedoes, full steam ahead! The first time she was caught she was chastised for her rebellious thoughts and released. The second they tried reason, and then imprisonment. Believing she’d learned her lesson, she was released. The third time they took her limb, thinking to cripple her in both body and spirit. But like a phoenix she rose from the ashes stronger, singing her song. Though many feared the freedom she sang of, others saw her as a beacon of hope in a hopeless world. Each time she had been struck down she rose again stronger. Her presence was felt everywhere. Her courage was an inspiration. She must be stopped. She could not be stopped.
Just so you know, all the pieces I’m sharing that were written in class are unedited.
After the videos we listened to three pieces of audio only. Yes, I know it’s possible to work some techy magic so you can click and just hear the music, but I am not a techno wizard so you’re stuck with the full videos. All except for the first one.
The first piece we listened to was a classical piece by Dvorak, and I didn’t catch which one so I guess you’ll just have to use your imagination as to what it sounds like. It put me in mind of a silent movie so my piece turned out more like a review of the movie than a story.
The adventure starts with a pith-helmeted explorer in deepest Africa. He must fight his way through the jungle, follow a dangerous trail up a mountain where one misstep could mean certain death, and battle his fiercesome adversary to save the innocent heroine. The hero is victorious, and together he and the heroine travel towards a bright future together. But wait! Tragedy falls. They become separated. Each must journey onwards, alone, believing the other to be lost. But there is a light on the horizon and as they are about to lose all hope they are reunited for their happily ever after.
Okay, so it’s not the best writing I’ve ever done, but the point of taking these classes is to try out new things. This is kind of like doodling in the margins of a notebook – sometimes the doodle is good enough to be framed, and sometimes it looks like my granddaughter got a hold of my book. LOL
The second piece we listened to had lyrics, and most of us were familiar with it – White Rabbit, by Jefferson Airplane. Despite the lyrics, I had an easier time envisioning a story. I focused on just the music at first, but I think knowing the song also coloured my take on it.
Down twisted streets I flee, the gang bangers hot on my heels. The air is hot, almost stifling. The walls of the barrio feel like they’re closing in on me. I shouldn’t be here, I knew that, but I had to find her, Alice, my baby sister. It had been days since she disappeared. I’d run out of leads and was left with rumours, now those rumours were going to get me killed. Footsteps slapped the wet pavement – mine, theirs. Steam rose where the hot sun touched the stones made cold by a sudden shower. My clothes cling to skin made damp from both rain and fear. My breathing is laboured, my limbs leaden. I’m so tired, but I’ll keep going as long as I need to. Wait for me Alice. Don’t let me fall down the rabbit hole without you.
For the third and final piece we were played a song in Hindi. I guess finding inspiration from music must take practice because I found this one even easier. Just an FYI, technically Nataraja is the aspect of Shiva that is known as an ecstatic dancer, but Shiva was the one the music called to my mind.
I am Shiva. Come to me. Come and dance.
Dance for me. Dance with me. Dance in praise of me. Dance your soul away.
Heed the call. Do not deny me. Do not ignore me. Do not deny your nature.
Feel the music in your blood. Feel me in your blood. Feel your heart pound.
Dance with me.
Raise your hands. Stamp your feet. Turn and spin. Dance.
Dance for me. Do not stop. Praise my name, for I am Shiva.
Dance for me. Do not pause. Do not stop. Dance.
Dance your soul away.
Dance.
Wednesday, April 4, 2018
Duo-rhyme
I have a folder in my poetry files that’s labeled “Unfinished Forms” – there’s another one called “Unfinished Poems” but that’s a story story for another time. I wanted to do a new form today, so I opened the folder and checked out some of the forms I’ve discovered but haven’t yet written poems for.
The first one talked about irregular syllables and long-short-long (or short-long-long ones) and I’m like, “Huh?” The second one was one of those incomprehensible Irish syllabic forms and I just don’t have the focus these days to tangle with one of those!
Then I came across this one. The Duo-rhyme was created by Mary L. Ports. Unfortunately, I couldn’t find out much about her other than she had a poetry chapbook, called Pathways to the Pleiades, published by Shadow Poetry.
The Duo-rhyme has only two rhymes and is generally written in iambic tetrameter. It can be 10 or 12 lines, with the first 2 and the last 2 having the same rhyme, and all the lines in between (either 6 or 8) having a second mono rhyme.
And that’s pretty much it. Except for my example. :-D
The Beltane Moon
The Beltane moon hangs in the sky
It calls to me, I know not why…
The springtime magic fills the air
It heralds days that are more fair
With blossoms blooming everywhere
And sunny days become less rare
As for the planting we prepare -
We bless the fields and say a prayer,
Promise the gods that we will share
The bounty that we have to spare
And still the Beltane moon is high
It makes my spirit want to fly.
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
And because I had so much fun with the first one, I decided to do another. :-D
Dark Kin
The light fades fast as clouds roll in
I feel an itch beneath my skin
The wind picks up, a bitter sting
The fog can hold ‘most anything
The birds take flight on hurried wing
They flee from what the night will bring
When spirits of the air will sing
In homage to the dark souled king
I feel my mind begin to spin
I feel him now, my long lost kin.
The first one talked about irregular syllables and long-short-long (or short-long-long ones) and I’m like, “Huh?” The second one was one of those incomprehensible Irish syllabic forms and I just don’t have the focus these days to tangle with one of those!
Then I came across this one. The Duo-rhyme was created by Mary L. Ports. Unfortunately, I couldn’t find out much about her other than she had a poetry chapbook, called Pathways to the Pleiades, published by Shadow Poetry.
The Duo-rhyme has only two rhymes and is generally written in iambic tetrameter. It can be 10 or 12 lines, with the first 2 and the last 2 having the same rhyme, and all the lines in between (either 6 or 8) having a second mono rhyme.
And that’s pretty much it. Except for my example. :-D
The Beltane Moon
The Beltane moon hangs in the sky
It calls to me, I know not why…
The springtime magic fills the air
It heralds days that are more fair
With blossoms blooming everywhere
And sunny days become less rare
As for the planting we prepare -
We bless the fields and say a prayer,
Promise the gods that we will share
The bounty that we have to spare
And still the Beltane moon is high
It makes my spirit want to fly.
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
And because I had so much fun with the first one, I decided to do another. :-D
Dark Kin
The light fades fast as clouds roll in
I feel an itch beneath my skin
The wind picks up, a bitter sting
The fog can hold ‘most anything
The birds take flight on hurried wing
They flee from what the night will bring
When spirits of the air will sing
In homage to the dark souled king
I feel my mind begin to spin
I feel him now, my long lost kin.
Monday, April 2, 2018
One Quarter Down, Three to Go
While I did better writing-wise last week than the week before, it wasn’t great and all the extra time I had on the weekend was kind of wasted.
Last week I got my Steampunk story finished and posted, and then Friday I got two really short pieces from Inspiration From Improv posted. And then I procrastinated by futzing around with the settings on a blog a friend and I are starting up for a photography challenge. *sigh*
This being the end of the first quarter of the new year, I figured it might be a good time to revisit my goals for the year. If nothing else, it’ll remind me that I have goals that I should be working towards. So here we go:
Write every day, at least 500 words Well that’s a big fat fail, isn’t it? Even if you count blog posts I haven’t been writing 500 words a day.
Less time gaming and checking social media I was actually doing pretty good on this early in the year, but I confess to sliding back into my old habits. I don’t know where I started on games like Bubble Mouse, but I’m up to 76 golden keys (you have to work through 100 levels to get a key) - I have this vague notion of stopping that game when I reach 100 keys.
Shut down by 11 p.m., 12 at the latest I think the idea here was to spend that time before bed reading, working on crafts, or catching up on my journal, but by the time 11 or 12 rolls around I’m too tired to focus on much of anything besides the mindless games I play on my lap top.
Spend more time doing crafts I had good intentions here, really I did. I started a long vest to help combat the cold in my new office, but I put my knitting bag away one day while cleaning and it’s been in the craft closet ever since.
Make better use of my Neo Poor Neo, so sad and neglected. I don’t know what’s going on here, I love my Neo and I type so much faster on it. I did finally replace the batteries in it a couple of weeks ago - second time in four years.
Organize my poetry This was supposed to be a project to keep me away from the games when I wasn’t working on a story. But do you know how much poetry I have? I’ve explored over a hundred different forms, with many poems in between. I have a lot of poetry. I need to win the lottery so I can pay someone else to organize it for me. :-D
Journal more often I’m thinking by journal I meant my writing journal, my personal journal I seem to be pretty good at keeping up with. I think part of the problem with my writing journal is that I never really know what to write in it. I see examples of other people’s writing journals and they look so...creative. Mine seems pretty lame in comparison. Maybe I should do some research on how to keep a writing journal. Oh look, a new way to procrastinate! LOL
I really don’t want to get to the end of the year and look back to see that nothing’s changed, so I guess that means I need to get to work, eh? Time to put on the big girl writer panties and get to work!
Last week I got my Steampunk story finished and posted, and then Friday I got two really short pieces from Inspiration From Improv posted. And then I procrastinated by futzing around with the settings on a blog a friend and I are starting up for a photography challenge. *sigh*
This being the end of the first quarter of the new year, I figured it might be a good time to revisit my goals for the year. If nothing else, it’ll remind me that I have goals that I should be working towards. So here we go:
Write every day, at least 500 words Well that’s a big fat fail, isn’t it? Even if you count blog posts I haven’t been writing 500 words a day.
Less time gaming and checking social media I was actually doing pretty good on this early in the year, but I confess to sliding back into my old habits. I don’t know where I started on games like Bubble Mouse, but I’m up to 76 golden keys (you have to work through 100 levels to get a key) - I have this vague notion of stopping that game when I reach 100 keys.
Shut down by 11 p.m., 12 at the latest I think the idea here was to spend that time before bed reading, working on crafts, or catching up on my journal, but by the time 11 or 12 rolls around I’m too tired to focus on much of anything besides the mindless games I play on my lap top.
Spend more time doing crafts I had good intentions here, really I did. I started a long vest to help combat the cold in my new office, but I put my knitting bag away one day while cleaning and it’s been in the craft closet ever since.
Make better use of my Neo Poor Neo, so sad and neglected. I don’t know what’s going on here, I love my Neo and I type so much faster on it. I did finally replace the batteries in it a couple of weeks ago - second time in four years.
Organize my poetry This was supposed to be a project to keep me away from the games when I wasn’t working on a story. But do you know how much poetry I have? I’ve explored over a hundred different forms, with many poems in between. I have a lot of poetry. I need to win the lottery so I can pay someone else to organize it for me. :-D
Journal more often I’m thinking by journal I meant my writing journal, my personal journal I seem to be pretty good at keeping up with. I think part of the problem with my writing journal is that I never really know what to write in it. I see examples of other people’s writing journals and they look so...creative. Mine seems pretty lame in comparison. Maybe I should do some research on how to keep a writing journal. Oh look, a new way to procrastinate! LOL
I really don’t want to get to the end of the year and look back to see that nothing’s changed, so I guess that means I need to get to work, eh? Time to put on the big girl writer panties and get to work!
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