What went before ONE: I've shifted some furniture, and I think we're good for tomorrow. There's plenty of room to get the old machines OUT, and the new machines are smaller, ergo.

My one -- well, two -- remaining worries are (1) timing (no phone call from Home Despot yet) and (2) where am I going to put the cats while this is going on? Rookie has an Unhealthy Interest in the front door, so I don't quite trust them all to just run downstairs like sensible cats...

I guess I could try to toss them into my bathroom, though catching Tali isn't by any means easy...

What went before TWO: In case anybody cares, kinematic equations are those equations that can be used to predict unknown information regarding an object's motion. If you know three of four variables, then the fourth can be calculated.

The four variables are: displacement, time, acceleration, velocity.

My head now hurts, but the worst part is that I'm pretty sure I don't have enough of a grasp to actually use this information for what I thought I wanted to use it for.
When they tell writers to "Write what you know"? What that means is that you'll spend a lot of time reading about Z until you know (enough about) Z to write about it.

What went before THREE: Tomorrow! I can look for the delivery of my washer and dryer between the hours of 7:30 and 11:30!

Sigh.

In other news, the lawn guy -- that is to say, One. Single. Guy. with a blower on his back, has been doing Spring Cleanup at my place since 1:00. I'm getting a *little* tired of the noise, though honestly it was perfect for doing ASL. I can't imagine where the lawn guy's head is. He is wearing earphones, but The Long Back Yard really IS long, and four hours is a LONG time to vacuum leaves.

Well. I have Imposed Structure on the WIP. I was going to read through it to make sure it made sense this way, but, um. Maybe tomorrow. While I'm getting up early and waiting for the delivery guys. And, hey. An "early" delivery means I can start in washing clothes before moonrise.

For lunch, I made some kind of bean stew that turned out really well, which is good, because I have a lot left over.

EDITED TO ADD: And help has arrived for my Lone Lawn Guy in the shape of another guy and a truck with a serious vacuum, which is sucking up the Big Pile of Leaves in the driveway.

Wednesday. Sun coming up bright and ambitious.

The Wait for the Washer hasn't quite started, but I thought, just in case I happen to be first on the list, that I should be awake. So! Kettle's on for tea, and Classic Rewind is on for music.

As soon as I have my tea, I'm hitting the comfy chair -- no better not. Better find something to eat. Anyway, first thing up, after caffeine and breakfast is a review of the WIP in its adjusted shape.

I've unplugged the resident washer and dryer, but the delivery crew better -- ah, "Werewolves of London" on the radio -- have a wrench, 'cause there's No Way I'm getting the hoses off of the washer.

That's all I've got this early.

Here -- have a picture of the Long Back Yard.

...I saw a werewolf drinking a pina colada at Trader Vic's and his hair was perfect...

EDITED TO ADD: This Just In! Delivery now scheduled between 9:30 and 1:30. So clearly, I'm not the first on the list. Also? Plot Twist! I need to have an adult present to sign. I wonder if the next door neighbor's home.

Today's blog post brought to you by Ah-Ha, "Take On Me" (I have always loved this video, but then, I tend to like stories about people Becoming...)

osprey_archer

What I’ve Just Finished Reading

Agnes Hewes’ The Codfish Musket, third and last in her trio of boring 1930s Newbery Honor winners. I can only imagine that the committee felt that the “Rah rah MANIFEST DESTINY” message was good for the Youth, because my God these books are dull. How can books be so dull when there are so many deadly conspiracies?

But maybe it’s because Hewes is actually not great at deadly conspiracies. The best part of this book by far is the non-deadly middle, when our hero Dan Boit goes to Washington and accidentally becomes Thomas Jefferson’s secretary after he finds Jefferson’s lost notebook full of observations about when the first peas come up and the frogs start peeping.

In modern-day Newbery Honor winners, I finished Chanel Miller’s Magnolia Wu Unfolds It All, a short and charming tale in which Magnolia and her new friend Iris try to return orphaned socks from Magnolia’s parents’ laundry to their owners. In the process, they explore New York City and learn more about the denizens of their neighborhood.

I also read Susan Fletcher’s Journey of the Pale Bear, about a Norwegian boy accompanying a captured polar bear to England as a present for the king. If this sounds familiar, it’s because Fletcher wrote a related picture book, but that focuses more on the bear’s experiences, while this is more about the boy and the boy-meets-bear of it all. Who among us has not wished for a bear friend!

What I’m Reading Now

In Our Mutual Friend, Lizzie Hexam’s father has DIED. This may be a lucky escape for him, as he was about to be arrested on suspicion of murder (at the word of his wicked lying former business partner), but I’m very concerned what will become of poor Lizzie.

My suspicion that Mr. Rokesmith is in fact the dead John Harmon has only grown stronger as he has insinuated himself in the Boffin household as an unpaid secretary. What is his ultimate goal here? A more suspicious soul than Mr. Boffin might wonder who on earth would offer himself up as a secretary without pay, and consider the possibility of embezzlement, but blessed Mr. Boffin is not concerned a bit.

What I Plan to Read Next

Onward in the Newbery books! I am ten books from the end of the historical Newberies, and I intend to finish the project while Interlibrary Loan is still alive.

seawasp

Stephanie doesn't know there's plotting and scheming...

( ... but she has problems of her own... )

That's certainly the way to bet...

wyld_dandelyon

I've been under the weather. This time I managed to get Bronchitis just from the end of the winter heating season (unless a friend with a congestive heart condition was actually sick, and not just coughing because of the heart condition). But I think this was coming on earlier, and the med regime my former allergist suggested was keeping my lungs and sinuses a lot clearer than in the past, but not enough for my body to clear out the infection.

Well, I came to this conclusion Friday, with (among other things) singing at the Eurofilk showing me I was unusually short of breath for singing; I already had an appointment with my newish primary doc who I really like on Monday, and when I tried to call the allergist last month to set up an appointment, there was no answer or answering machine on his number, or on the alternate number I found on Google. I did find an article about him listing him as 81 years old, and I'm not sure how long ago that was written, so I'm assuming he died or retired. So, I waited out the weekend and got tireder and tireder, and shorter and shorter of breath.

Happily, she was willing to prescribe antibiotics and steroids (if I'd gotten antibiotics on Friday, that might have been enough), unhappily, when they figured out that the only way they could give me the meds the doc thought most appropriate that didn't have corn in it (kids' liquid, again), it turned out that the pharmacy couldn't fill it until today. It was too late to try to talk the doc into prescribing something different, as the clinic was closed.

So today I woke up way too early, and was NOT falling asleep again (my body does insist on waking when I really need meds, which freaked out my RN mother when I was first sick enough to always be awake when she came in to wake me up to take them). This was handy in that I was able to deal with a bank overdraft for my grown-up kid (she's still using the account I got her when she went to Denmark in 4th grade so I could easily transfer money to her if there was an unexpected need, so, being awake I saw the text notification) (Her birthday is later this month, so an early birthday gift was perfectly reasonable).

And then I had food and called the pharmacy, because I WANTED those meds before the rest of the day's errands, which included getting My Angel to her PT appointment, mailing a thing (in a post office, since there seems to be no more drop-off boxes outside our regular post office any more--WTF, government?--and going to pick up meds at a different pharmacy too.

The strip mall the post office was in had one of the closing JoAnne Fabrics, which had almost no fabric left, and not much of anything else either. I did find some things to buy, including two substantially marked down big bags designed to hold a sewing machine and sewing stuff, but which I plan to use one of for author stuff (books, display, etc.) on the assumption that I'll do signings at cons again, and the other for acrylic paints, brushes, and the like since my current bag and plastic bin plan isn't working out as well as I'd like, and because having that stuff on wheels will be very convenient.

I also got some beads, wire, a thimble and multitool, sewing machine needles, an ironing pad to put on a table, some tape, a couple of pillow forms for planned gifting, and, surprisingly, a basket of tumbled stones to put in the fishtank. Sadly, the heavy-duty dolly they had pictured in the front as available had already been sold. I looked at the jewelry making stuff, thought about the heavy duty crimper and some of those beads, but I haven't been making jewelry lately and can use the hemostats I use for holding autoharp strings to crimp things, so I left those behind. I did also get some very discounted project boards, so if we decide to go to one or more protests, we can take signs.

And I took photos of our daffodils in the middle of all that.

I am cheered by all the photos of protests I'm seeing, and by how badly Elon's car company is doing. It gives me hope. Keep contacting your elected officials, we've got to wear them down until they stand up to our very cruel and foolish leader.

Now I am going to hit post and go watch Rachel show all those pictures of the signs again, and do Duolinguo, so I don't miss a day, and fall in bed. Maybe I'll manage to post Daffodil pics tomorrow.

Current Mood: busy!
Current Location: here, there, elsewhere
Current Music: probably not today

pjthompson

Random quote of the day:

“Let me give you a definition of ethics: It is good to maintain and further life—it is bad to damage and destroy life. And this ethic, profound and universal, has the significance of a religion. It is religion.”

—Albert Schweitzer, quoted in Albert Schweitzer: The Man and His Mind by George Seaver

Disclaimer: The views expressed in this random quote of the day do not necessarily reflect the views of the poster, her immediate family, Bert and Ernie, Celine Dion, or the Band of the Coldstream Guards. They do, however, sometimes reflect the views of the Cottingley Fairies.

ismo

Sometimes, when it rains in the night, I hear the sound of it sweeping around the corners, and it feels as if someone is wrapping my house in a blanket. It's a comfortable feeling. Then in the morning when the sun comes up, there are still droplets sparkling on the twigs, calling attention to the fact that this year as ever year, the maple buds are beginning to unfurl again. And I was startled to look out the upstairs window and see a panoply of dandelions already spangling the lawn. Everything is getting out of hand, as usual, while I am out of commission. But how lucky am I to have seen this so many times.

We both had a bit of a relapse yesterday, but the Soarrowhawk's was worse than mine. He ended up staying home from the gym again. It's not fun when we're both sick at the same time. He seems to be doing better today, and we hope to continue our interrupted trajectory of getting better. The stomachs are still not entirely reliable. I did laundry and made him some lime jello with bananas in it, his favorite. I had other things on my list but at that point I got too tired and sat down for awhile. He offered to take me to the botanical garden to see the butterflies, but alas, I was not ready for that. Laster, I pulled myself together and made us some fried rice for dinner, with mushrooms, celery, green onions, red peppers, ham, and an egg in it. You wouldn't think this would be tolerable to a dicey tummy, but it seems to be okay so far. Now I've developed a sore throat and a cough, and that's what's bothering me at the moment.

We're belatedly watching "The Saint" as a tribute to the late Val Kilmer. I saw it when it first came out, but had forgotten most of it. Oh lordy. I so want to believe in the Templar and his operatic, completely implausible multiple personas with a dash of Jim Morrison . . . but . . . lordy!! I can still enjoy it as a gloriously awful movie, bad enough to give one a rococo hangover. But I have to say that the female lead is giving the most embarrassing misrepresentation of a scientist I have ever seen, and I've seen a lot of them. I hope they kidnapped her puppy and blackmailed her into it, because I'd hate to think she did this willingly. It has hints of the very first Mission Impossible in it, and a prefiguring of Jason Bourne as well. This is a movie Harriet M. Welsch would have watched with popcorn.
"Look at those rotten things! Oh boy!" said Harriet, and sat down, stuffing a great gob of popcorn in her mouth.

sovay

Apparently if permitted to sleep for nine hours, my brain presents me with a cheerfully escapist dream of meeting Dirk Bogarde at a film festival and then spending the rest of the afternoon perusing his library and forgoing dinner in favor of sailing, which was probably more my idea of a good time than his, but I like to think if I hadn't woken when I did, he'd have introduced me to Anthony Forwood.

Current Music: Momma, "I Want You (Fever)"

hrj

Medicare Advantage (through Kaiser) is all set up. I've paid my first 3 months of Medicare B through the website, since they can't automatically deduct it from my retirement benefits until they're actually giving me retirement benefits. (Still waiting on that one.)

Sent out my retirement announcement (and celebration invite) at work. I've promised people jars of Heather's Retirement Marmalade as door prizes for as long as they last. (I made 2 dozen.)

Other than the SSA thing, all that's left is:
* last-day stuff at the job (turn in computer/badge, exit interview)
* convert 401K to IRA and select investment strategy (the exact details of which may depend on market details)

Oh, and close my last two investigations. One is in final review, the other is pending completion of some corrections.

(My "retirement checklist" also has some other items on it that aren't directly retirement related but it seemed useful to record them as official to-do items.)

catherineldf

So I used to call this “The Greening of Our Lives” when I started it, but there is no more “our” so I think I’ll drop that part. And I haven’t done one of these for the past couple of years because, honestly, it was too depressing. But you can click through on the hashtags if you want to see what we did before this point.

Between April of 2024 and today, I’ve:

Had a new heat pump dryer and high efficiency washer installed (just yesterday!). Energy + water savings + reduced gas use
Had new window treatments installed to help block drafts and increase natural light (also to make me feel less like Miss Havisham)
Continued to work from home so less driving time.
Got an induction hot plate and cookware set (Costco, for the win!) to reduce amount of cooking on gas stove.
Upgraded my convection oven so I use the gas oven less.
Had an home energy audit done and got a low flow shower head and some insulation on the basement pipes.
Started container gardening
Doubled down on the pollinator plants and reducing the grass. Continue to avoid pesticides and herbicides.
Switched to buying more used/refurbished electronics
Continued involvement with Buy Nothing Club
Switched Queen of Swords Press to recycled/recyclable mailers from Eco Enclose and recycled paper shopping bags from Nashville Wraps.
Switched QoSP newsletter to Buttondown, a platform that doesn’t use AI (so far) and reinvests part of the proceeds in environmental projects.
Continued with Windsource, continue to avoid AI use wherever possible, recycling, composting, reusing, etc.
Support local and international green projects.

What are you up to this Earth Day?

sartorias

This is quick, as things have been fraught, with a sick family member who doesn't do well with sickness.

Dobrenica 3: Revenant Eve

Re-edited and reissued:

It’s now 1795, the rise of Napoleon, and Kim finds herself a guardian spirit for a twelve-year-old kid who will either become Kim’s ancestor . . . or the timeline will alter and Kim will vanish, along with the small, magical European country of Dobrenica.

Kim hates time travel conundrums, and knows nothing about kids. How is she going to spirit-guide young Aurelie, born on Saint-Domingue, with whom she has nothing in common?

From pirate-infested Jamaica to mannered England to Revolutionary Paris in the early 1800s, Kim and Aurelie travel, sharing adventures and meeting fascinating people, such as the beautiful and charming Josephine, wife of Napoleon.

rolanni

What went before ONE: Aaaand, back. Home Despot only had part of what I wanted, but I did not go to Augusta. Instead I went to the new Reny's, which is awesome. I bought a plastic folding table for less than $10, which I can sit out on the deck with my chair and have a place to put my tea or my glass of wine, or even my sandwich. I bought olives and soup, and a pair of summer-weight Carhartt utility jeans. But that's not the Exciting Part.

The Exciting Part is that Reny's Heard Me and now has a Reny's Passport! You have to visit all nineteen Reny's in Maine, and get your passport stamped at each one, then submit it for a chance at the Grand Prize! They'll even return your passport after the contest is over.

I got my passport stamped at Waterville today -- only 18 more to go!

What went before TWO: And, I now need a Big Umbrella, because the little open-sided tent took two of us to put up -- and it wasn't easy, even with. So! I have something to shop for at the next Reny's on my list.

What went before THREE: I just spent some time breaking down a few of Winter's Boxes and getting them into the open recycling bin for delivery to the curb tomorrow. I do not think there is a movie on my schedule this evening. I have an Idea about What Happens Next in the WIP.

Time to fix lunch, eh?

What went before FOUR: Writing consisted of Staring into Space, and trying to figure out how to get lightly through a convoluted piece of business without boring myself to death. I think I've got it. Of course, I thought that earlier, too.

And, that? Is the afternoon/early evening report.

Everybody stay safe; I'll see you tomorrow.

Tuesday. Damp, but they say no rain. Trash and recycling, including the boxes I broke down yesterday, are at the curb.

Today's music is one of my favorites, "Once in a Lifetime," Talking Heads. One of the two major songs that Agent of Change was written to. There was a mini-commentary from one of the band members before Mr. Hunter put on the music, speaking to why this song was Talking Heads first Number One. Said bandmate's opinion was it had been the line, "How did I get here?" that sold it to the millions, and he may be right. All I know is that the line that sold it to me, for Val Con, was "My god. What have I done?" And -- bonus -- the muttering at the end about "and now a twister comes..."

I see the signs of a feline decorating aesthetic on and around my desk. Why, yes, that pen does look better under the adding machine; and the Kleenex box on the floor, angled against the wheels of my chair. Why didn't I think of this?

Breakfast coming up soon -- pb&j on a whole wheat English muffin. I have leftover pork, so I guess that's lunch in some form.

Today is partially about Moving Things for the Grand Arrival of the Washer and Dryer, tomorrow at an as-yet undetermined time. Also, I want to get some writing done.

I don't know if it works this way for anybody else, and, indeed, it only works this way for me some of the time -- but I have to hit a certain Mass of Narrative before I understand the structure that has to be imposed in order to have All of This, err, make sense. I know they tell you in English/Writing class that structure is one of the first things you determine. Bear in mind that, in class, they also tell you that you have to know the POV's motivation before writing Word One. Yes, if I roll my eyes any harder they will roll right out of my head, thank you.

So! Breakfast for me, coming right up.

What's coming right up for you?

Today's blog title brought to you, naturally, from The Talking Heads, "Once in a Lifetime"

EDITED TO ADD, because someone did ask: The other song Agent of Change was written to is was also from The Talking Heads, and it is, of course, "Life During Wartime," which is basically the plot of Agent of Change...

jreynoldsward

After twenty-five or so books, you would think I’d have this whole novel-writing process down solid. Have a viable strategy, be organized, go about the development of constructing characters and plot in a somewhat coherent manner.

Ha! (she laughs bitterly)

Every book is its own process. Sometimes I’m lucky enough to have a series that uses the same methodology for each book, but that isn’t always the case.

That happened with my first two series, the Netwalk Sequence and Goddess’s Honor. Granted, they were early works, but as I progressed through both series, I ended up changing things around. What became key for both of those series was a very detailed scene matrix where I literally identified where every major character was in each scene and what their motives were within that scene. I did the basic outline by hand before writing, then went back and analyzed each scene as part of my revisions.

I had several reasons for organizing myself in that manner. First, as it turned out, I was alternating writing books in both series so that I had two books coming out a year, one book in one series, the other in the other one. Second, I had multiple character viewpoints, so I wanted to ensure that the voices in the book were balanced. Third, those characters were scattered across the continent (and across the ocean) in Goddess’s Honor, while characters were on Earth/the Moon/space stations in the Netwalk Sequence. Fourth, we were in the process of a long distance move to a second home.

Well, lessons learned.

First, I vowed that I was NOT going to have four POVs in future work because it just got too complicated and, I fear, weakened the impact of the story, though—looking back, those multiple POVs were necessary. At least for those particular story arcs.

Second, I decided that I was not going to switch between series, but would write a series all at once, then release the volumes close together. I cheated a little bit doing this with the assorted Martiniere sub-series because I also ended up writing a couple of unrelated books as well as a couple of novellas during that time. But—Kindle Vella had just started up and I had appropriate ideas that would be good for that market. An allowable reason.

Writing a series all at once helped me deal with problems in book continuity within a series, though those darn characters kept twisting things between the beginning of the first book and the last part of the last book (glaring at The Cost of Power, which really tried my patience with last-minute discoveries, such as the linkage between the Martinieres and the Carolingian Mythos. When Durendal appears in the last third of the third volume of Power, Redemption, I wanted to scream. Then I took a deep breath and revised everything).

I also came up with a new strategy involving Scrivener and Word which dealt with some of the travel issues. Years ago, I wrote in WordPerfect and took advantage of its master document formatting setup, which allowed me to draft chapters as separate files, then link them so that I could call them up in one big document. My Word drafting was all one document which…got annoying when I needed to refer back to earlier sections for continuity’s sake.

I was already starting to consolidate my research notes and my character notes in Scrivener. Then it dawned on me—why not draft a chapter in Word, then paste it into Scrivener? I already was keeping Scriv open to access my outline and character notes. Putting the book into Scriv chapter-by-chapter allowed me to a.) appropriately version the story, and b.) made drafting continuity a lot easier.

Solved that problem, but—then it became an issue of story organizing.

I am sometimes a hard-core plotter, and sometimes…not. For the last batch of books, I started writing chapter-by-chapter synopses. As continuity tweaked things, I’d edit the chapter synopses in Scriv with dates and notes in bold. Well, it worked—for those books.

Then I started drafting the current work-in-progress, Vision of Alliance, the first book of Goddess’s Vision. This series, a sequel series to Goddess’s Honor in what I’m now calling the world of the Seven Crowned Gods, has been my bane for over five years now. I started working on the Martinieres to avoid it because while I knew I wanted to write what happens next, I just couldn’t find the opening. Shades of the first series, because it took me years to find the opening for Pledges of Honor, the original first book of Goddess’s Honor (the official first book, Beyond Honor and Other Stories, is made up of stories I wrote later).

When I finished The Cost of Power trilogy, I flailed around trying to poke at other ideas. Nope. None of them wanted to do anything. It was time to start work on Goddess’s Vision. The Martinieres were done unless I wanted to write the next generation and…I couldn’t do that, either.

Very well. Goddess’s Vision it was. But I couldn’t come up with ideas for more than one book. Well, I figured it would come. Time to start writing.

I got to about the fourth chapter, then had to take time off for business stuff. When I came back to the story, I read what I had written and…dear God, it was packed full of telling. I was skipping over far too much in the story and…I made myself go back and rewrite. Drafted several chapters and---oopsie, guess what. Glossed over story stuff once again. So now I’m juggling several chapters-to-be-written as well as revising already-written chapters to reflect the breaking out of important scenes.

At least I’m at the experience level where I recognized a developing problem before I got too far along.

All of this is new ground for me, because the only other time I had to tear apart a draft like this was with the first Netwalk book. And that came about because an editor saw problems in a second draft. Again, darn good thing I saw the problem developing before I got too much further along.

At this point, though, I’m definitely not worried about having enough material for a trilogy. I even know what the resolution is going to look like. It’s just…getting there.

Each book has its own process, and am I ever being reminded of that.

Hey, everyone! Just a reminder that your humble writer here appreciates comments, book purchases (one of these days I'll figure out Linktree and have a single place you can go to find all of my work besides Amazon and Smashwords), or Ko-fi donations.

asakiyume

Maybe you've seen the trailer for this wordless animated film about a black cat in a post-human world. (If not, here's a link.) The visuals were so evocative and beautiful--and the cat so like my own cat--that I was very excited to see it.

Yesterday I did see it, and it was indeed beautiful to look at ...

( but... )

sovay

Still toast. Successfully collected my father from the airport two nights ago. Would like my capacity for movies to get back online before I run out of month in which to write about them. Would also like our next-door neighbor to have ceased to use loud air-whining machineries after seven p.m.

I saw the news of the death of Pope Francis. If it was going to be one of his last public statements, the construction site of Hell was an incredibly metal image to go out on.

I was not expecting to see the news that Willy Ley had been found in a can in a co-op on 67th Street. The idea of sending his ashes to space is completely correct and I wouldn't put SpaceX anywhere near that gesture. I could rewatch Frau im Mond (1929) for his memory.

Playing Stan Rogers' "Macdonnell on the Heights" (1984) for

spatch may actually have counter-observed Patriots' Day, but my point still stands that the song has successfully superseded its chorus, or at least one in ten thousand seems to underrate Rogers' influence.

Personally I would ask Nigel Havers about the 1986 LWT A Little Princess.

Current Music: The Mountain Goats, "Harlem Roulette"

rachelmanija

In this YA novel published in 1990, six fourteen-year-olds face their inner dragons while they're in an accelerated academic program which includes a class on Beowulf.

I read this when it first came out, so when I saw a copy at a library book sale, I grabbed it to re-read. It largely holds up, though I'd completely forgotten the main plot and only recalled the theme and the subplot.

My recollection of the book was that the six teenagers are inspired by class discussions on Beowulf to face their personal fears. This is correct. I also recalled that one of the girls was a gymnast with an eating disorder and one of the boys was an athlete partially paralyzed in an accident, and those two bonded over their love of sports and current conflicted/damaging relationship to sports and their bodies, and ended up dating. This is also correct.

What I'd completely forgotten was the main plot, which was about the narrator, Eric, who idolized his best friend, Paul, and had an idealized crush on one of the girls in the class, who he was correctly convinced had a crush on Paul, and incorrectly convinced Paul was mutually attracted to. Paul, who is charming and outgoing, convinces Eric, who is shy, to do a speech class with him, where Eric surprisingly excels. The main plot is about the Eric/Paul relationship, how Eric's jealousy nearly wrecks it, and how the boys both end up facing their dragons and fixing their friendship.

Paul's dragon is that he's secretly gay. The speech teacher takes a dislike to him, promotes Eric to the debate team when Paul deserves it more (and tells Eric this in private), and finally tries to destroy Paul in front of the whole class by accusing him of being gay! Eric defends Paul, Paul confesses his secret to him, and the boys repair their friendship.

While a bit dated/historical, especially in terms of both boys knowing literally nothing about what being gay actually means in terms of living your life, it's a very nicely done novel with lots of good character sketches. The teachers are all real characters, as are the six kids - all of whom have their own journeys. The crush object, for instance, is a pretty rich girl who's been crammed into a narrow box of traditional femininity, and her journey is to destroy the idealized image that Eric is in love with and her parents have imposed on her - and part of Eric's journey is to accept the role of being her supportive friend who helps her do it.

I was surprised and pleased to discover that this and other Sweeney books are currently available as ebooks. I will check some out.

swan_tower

I think I've suddenly become an evangelist for figures of speech.

During a recent poetry challenge in the Codex Writers' Group, someone recommended two books on the topic: The Elements of Eloquence: Secrets of the Perfect Turn of Phrase by Mark Forsyth, and Figures of Speech: 60 Ways to Turn a Phrase by Arthur Quinn. I found both delightfully readable, in their different stylistic ways, and also they convinced me of what Forsyth argues early on, which is that it's a shame we've almost completely stopped teaching these things. We haven't stopped using them; we're just doing so more randomly, on instinct, without knowing what tools are in our hands.

What do I mean when I say "figures of speech"? The list is eighty-seven miles long, and even people who study this topic don't always agree on which term applies where. But I like Quinn's attempt at a general definition, which is simply "an intended deviation from ordinary usage." A few types are commonly recognized, like alliteration or metaphor; a few others I recall cropping up in my English classes, like synecdoche (using part of a thing to refer to a whole: "get your ass over here" presumably summons the whole body, not just the posterior). One or two I actually learned in Latin class instead -- that being a language that can go to town on chiasmus (mirrored structure) because it doesn't rely on word order to make sense of a sentence. ("Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country": English can do it, too, just a bit more loosely.) Others were wholly new to me -- but only in the sense that I didn't know there was a name for that, not that I'd never heard it in action. Things like anadiplosis (repeating the end of one clause at the beginning of the next: "Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering.") or anastrophe (placing an adjective after the noun it modifies: "the hero victorious" or "treason, pure and simple")*.

*Before you comment to say I'm using any of these terms wrong, refer to the above comment about specialists disagreeing. That anastrophe might be hyperbaton instead, or maybe anastrophe refers to more than just that one type of rearranging, or or or. Whatever.

Quinn's book is the older one (written in the early '80s), and something like two-thirds of his examples are from Shakespeare or the Bible. On this front I have to applaud Forsyth more energetically, because he proves his point about how these things aren't irrelevant to modern English by quoting examples from sources like Katy Perry or Sting. (The chorus of "Hot n Cold" demonstrates antithesis; the verses of "Every Breath You Take" are periodic sentences, i.e. they build tension by stringing you out for a long time before delivering the necessary grammatical closure.) And when you get down to it, a ton of what the internet has done to the English language actually falls into some of these categories; the intentionally wrong grammar of "I can haz cheeseburger" is enallage at work -- not that most of us would call it that.

But Quinn delivers an excellent argument for why it's worth taking some time to study these things. He doesn't think there's much value in memorizing a long list of technical terms or arguing over whether a certain line qualifies as an example -- which, of course, is how this stuff often used to be taught, back when it was. Instead he says, "The figures have done their work when they have made richer the choices [the writer] perceives." And that's why I've kind of turned into an evangelist for this idea: as I read both books, I kept on recognizing what they were describing in my own writing, or in the memorable lines of others, and it heightened my awareness of how I can use these tools more deliberately. Both authors point out that sentiments which might seem commonplace if phrased directly acquire impact when phrased more artfully; "there's no there there" is catchier than "Nothing ever happens there," and "Bond. James Bond." took a name Fleming selected to be as dull as possible and made it iconic. And it brought home to me why there's a type of free verse I find completely uninteresting, because it uses none of these things: the author has a thought, says it, and is done, without any intended deviations from ordinary usage apart from some line breaks. At that point, the poem lives or dies entirely on the power of its idea, and most of the ones I bounce off aren't saying anything particularly profound.

So, yeah. I'm kinda burbling about a new obsession here, and no doubt several of you are giving me a sideways look of "ummm, okay then." But if you find this at all interesting, then I recommend both books as entertaining and accessible entry points to the wild jungle of two thousand years of people disagreeing over their terms.

(originally posted at Swan Tower: https://is.gd/08rQSn)

rolanni

What went before ONE: So, one of the joys of writing in Archers Beach was being able to set things not only in a real place (for those coming in late, Archers Beach is built on the map of Old Orchard Beach), but in real time.

For instance, "The Night Don't Seem So Lonely." The White Way did burn on the night of the moon landing, and though the fire burned hot and strong and long, they didn't lose anybody, not even a mule. The firemen did have a bad minute, though, when they sighted the two kids up on top of the Jack 'n Jill, with the flames licking up all around them. They couldn't get the trucks close enough to deploy the ladders, so they dragged in the hoses, and they soaked the scaffolding and yelled at the kids to climb down, grabbed 'em when they got close enough and ran with them down to the beach.

A writer reading that piece of history might well ask herself, But, what were they DOING up on top of that ride that night, after the park had closed?

And that's where stories come from.

What went before TWO: No Actual Words written today, but I have been doing a lot of cleaning up and putting away and ... stuff, which says to me that I'm thinking. Tomorrow morning, I need to go to Home Despot, and if they don't have what I want, I will make the pilgrimage to the Capital City to visit Lowes. If Home Despot does have what I want, then I will perhaps visit the new Reny's before I come home and see if I've worked out enough story stuff to write.

I got desperately lost in the ASL homework today, and had to do some research before I could go back to class. This may have been me, or it may be that Dr. Bill got bored and decided to throw everybody off the pier and see who sinks and who swims.

WHOA!

Ahem. Tali was having the Zoomies. She got up to speed, took to the air at the edge of my office, was in full flight as she passed my shoulder, hit the top of the desk, slid OFF the desk, and zoomed out again. The rest of the cats are sitting in high places. With reason, I see.

On that note -- everybody stay safe.

I'll see you tomorrow.

Monday. Sunny. Not quite as warm as predicted.

Breakfast was Kodiak chocolate chip oatmeal and a cup of Irish Breakfast. Second cup of tea just up -- Twinings Focus, which Steve had laid in quite a few boxes, and it's not gonna drink itself. Lunch is too far away to think about.

Boy, Alan Hunter's on a roll on Classic Rewind this morning. "Welcome to the Jungle" (not a favorite song, but I love the line, "You can have anything you want, as long as you don't take it from me"), "Swingtown," "Betty Lou's Getting Married," "Beast of Burden" (one of the many songs Steve and I would sing together, and sit in the car until it was over), "Don't Let Him Go," "Midnight Blue," "New Girl Now..."

Firefly's in the living room, listening up close and personal, the other three are in my office, helping me type this note.

So, this morning, I need to go to Home Despot, and may also go elsewhere, depending on mood, and if I really want to go to a movie tonight.

Thanks to all who took the time to review recently. MUCH appreciated. If you have been considering leaving a review, but are embarrassed because you're not Totally Up To Date -- reviews on Old Books Count, too! If you love a particular book --- review it! Does no harm; may do some good. And I point out that this is not just the case for our/my books. If you loved a book, tell the world! and make a writer's day.

Before I finish my tea, do my duty to the cats and -- ooh, "Heartless" on the radio, now -- get on the road, I do wish to note that Cael the Wolf *knows* how to talk to a cat: Cael dropped to one knee, and bowed his head, squinting his eyes in a cat smile. "My lady," he said softly, "you honor me with your radiant presence."

osprey_archer

I am happy to report that Joan Aiken had mercy after all, and started Dido and Pa with the reunion between Dido and Simon which she denied us at the end of The Cuckoo Tree. At long last they see each other again! They are delighted to be reunited and have a lovely supper at an inn.

However, their reunion is short-lived, as Dido hears a song that reminds her of her father’s tunes. She goes out to investigate (musing all the time that her father never played for her, not once, in her entire childhood) and runs into her father, who informs her that her sister is extremely ill! and wants to see her! so just get into this carriage and stop asking questions!

You will be unsurprised to hear that Dido’s sister is not ill. Indeed, Dido’s father has no idea where Dido’s sister is. He is kidnapping Dido to make her take part in another wicked Hanoverian plot. This plot has been slightly complicated by the fact that the last Bonnie Prince Georgie just died, oops, so the Hanoverians no longer have a contender to the throne, but never fear! They will come up with a way to plot wickedly anyway.

(I was reading a history book the other day which mentioned Hanoverians and I needed to pause a moment to remember that Hanoverians are (a) real and (b) not constantly wickedly plotting in real life.)

Dido’s father starts this book as a terrible father and only goes downhill from there. He is also music master to the Hanoverian ambassador and actually a wonderful musician and composer, which causes Dido painful confusion. How can he be such an awful person and such a wonderful artist? I feel you, Dido. If only the two were incompatible, things would be much easier for us all.

But he continues to be the worst, up to and including walking whistling away from a burning building with over a hundred children in the basement, while also being such an amazing musician that his music actually has healing properties. (Pity Queen Ginevra in The Stolen Lake didn’t discover the life-extending properties of music rather than porridge made from the bones of children.) Beneath the barmy plots, Joan Aiken is a stone-cold realist about the contradictions of human nature.

seawasp

York was bemoaning the lack of trouble...

( ... and far be it from me to disappoint my characters... )

Can you SMELL what that chef is cooking?

jazzfish

In the event I made it through customs easily. My customs agent was a dead ringer for grumpy John Cena. He asked for my citizenship (US) and passport. and then glared at the passport and his comupter screen for about thirty seconds. I had enough time to start getting nervous and also to notice that his biceps were the size of my head before he handed my passport back without a word. I'll count that a win.

I'm in Niagara, at the Gathering, saying hi to folks and playing a bunch of games. There's sufficient variety and sufficiently pleasant social that even when I get stuck in a 2.5-hour game that is emphatically Not For Me it's still a decent time. And it's good to see people I know and who know me, and to feel, well. At home, maybe.

They've been issuing special black badges for folks who've been to at least twenty of these since before I started coming (which was I think number 24 or 25). Last year or this they started giving 'grey' badges to people who've been to at least ten, and I was a little startled to realise that yep, that's me. I'm pretty bad at recognising when I've become A Regular at a thing. In my head I'm stuck as The New Guy, there's plenty of folks who've been around longer than I have.

It's Sunday night. Four and a half more days of gaming and Gathering, and then Steph gets here for two and a half days or so, and then homeward. I do miss my kitten. I don't miss the rest of home, not yet, but I can see that from here. For now, things are good. I appreciate that.

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queenoftheskies

Reading

It's no better to be safe than sorry

Wednesday Reading Meme

FENRIR: Chapter 22

Happy Earth Day!

Ethics

CollaredPika of Bliss

We're the talk of the town

Retirement T-8 and counting

Annual Earth Day Post

Book Day...

This is quick, as things have been fraught, with a sick family member who doesn't do well with sickness.

Well, how did I get here?

Each Book Has Its Own Process

The movie Flow

And some no one from the future remembers that you're gone

Face the Dragon, by Joyce Sweeney

The not-lost art of eloquence

Morning Music

Book Review: Dido and Pa

FENRIR: Chapter 21

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