Did you know that Amazon only lets you post in their forums (fori?) if you're a customer? Not that there's anything inherently wrong with that, but if you have something to add and don't want to use, say your mother's account to post because it's the only one you know, not having one yourself...not that I would have tried such a thing...Did I say my mother? See, I have this friend...Really, totally, completely separate person from myself, in fact friend is a strong word--I hardly know myself, um, I mean, her... ANYWAY...It's just if you actually know some information that would help the other customers, doesn't it seem wrong to restrict you? Ah heck, maybe I should do it anyway...or not...Maybe I can use someone else's identity...I mean, um...I take the Fifth...
So, I actually did 2,436 words today! The weird thing about writing is that you are sitting at the computer the whole time, not doing any physical work really, yet you come away from it utterly exhausted. I am pretty tired of writing now, actually, and I don't know what to post about, but I didn't want to miss another day. : ) The weather has been changable today, but it's still warmish. It's starting to seem like spring. The daffodils are all exposed now and have buds, but no flowers. Weird. I'm beginning to think I'll have roses by the time they bloom! (Not really...but choke-cherries, perhaps...)
I was thinking a bit about my friends from high school since I found two online yesterday. Of the four of us girls who ate lunch together every day, two are graduate students working toward Big, Important Things, one is contemplating getting a graduate degree, and the fourth dropped out of college during Sophomore year. Three guesses which one I am, and whether or not my life is significantly worse than theirs because of it. I don't even know. I feel pretty happy, though the forum on Amazon I was reading was the Fantasy one and the writer (just yesterday! I really wish I could've replied!) was saying how hard it is to find fantasy books with a kind-of New Age kind of spin. Another poster mentioned the difficulty in getting such things published, as I know first hand. Not that I would describe my work as "New Age," though I've certainly been influenced by the movement. But seriously, who publishes environmentalist, feminist, pagan literature?? : ) All of the main characters in my current project are male--do you think that will make a difference? The women are not wall-flowers either, of course, I'm writing it after all! But this project has the added drawback of being particularly dark and having the sensibility of a Greek tragedy--the main character basically destroys his own life through the mis-use of magic, and his family and world suffer the consequences for generations. OK, it's a saga...it's looking a bit like Gabriel Garcia Marquez actually (One Hundred Years of Solitude, I mean...not that it'll merit a Nobel Prize...though that might be nice...). Oh dear. I should probably stop now.
--Susie
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
Monday, May 5, 2008
Ranting and Raving...and Resting
First of all, I guess I should apologize (to myself of course; nobody reads this. Except my fangirl Zibby. Yea for fangirls.) for not posting yesterday. I was around, but I was tired and I just didn't post. I know, I know. Anyway, some good news--I'm about a third of the way (or maybe less, as it keeps getting longer and longer) through my Current Project and have given the first six chapters to my first readers, namely my mom (who has always been the first to read all my writing since time immemorial) and, again, Zibby, my loyal fangirl. : ) In the last two days I wrote a total of only 2,798 words, most of them today. Today was a good day, writing-wise, and I would like to do a little bit more, but knowing me, I won't. The weather was gorgeous: sixties I expect--I wore a t-shirt all day and was very warm on my walk. The violet-green swallows are everywhere all of a sudden and flickers are displaying (and dying, unfortunately) outside (and on) my windows. I can see the wood pile on the North side of the house for the first time since January! It has collapsed under the weight of the snow.
A couple of things...first, my favorite blogger on Blogger has a nice post today on a topic I have wondered about ever since I first read Harry Potter. I also had fun reading about her childhood pronunciation of a certain Belgian detective's name, as I had literally just been talking about the same thing with my brother (and also my mom). Which of course reminds of a movie quote (so many things do...): "I'm a Belgie, not a Frenchie!" (From Murder By Death) It really made me think about the way I spell unusual words, actually. I agree with Lynneguist on yeah and yea (though Zibby, for example, does it differently), though eh has always been a source of confusion for me. I've only seen "eh" as in "how's it going, eh?" spelled, obviously, e-h. But how does one spell that sound that goes along with a shrug? I've seen "meh" which would rhyme with that word, and not sound like May. Hmmm...So, picture a recent invalid answering the question "how do you feel?" Eh, right? It's not uh, exactly, and certainly doesn't rhyme with day. It's a single-syllable equivalent of "come si, come ca" (except ca would be spelled correctly in an ideal world...), or even "it comes and goes," or "some days are diamonds, some days are stones." : ) Who knows?
And now, a little rant. So, I entered Amazon.com's "Beedle the Bard Ballad Writing Contest." I am a poet. I know what a ballad is, so I thought it an exceedingly stupid name for the contest whose rules (OK, actually it was in the FAQ) explicitly stated that the entries did NOT have to be poems, but simply had to be in English and less that 100 words long. I know. I checked, because I was concerned, because, obviously, I wanted to win, darn it. So, I was rather surprised when almost all of the semi-finalists consisted of unmetered doggeral rhymed couplets. Yeah. Now, I don't mean to sound like a bad loser. I just mean that, in the words of another commenter, I feel "misled." I really enjoyed writing my entry, however, and I still would love to share it with the world, simply because I take joy and pride in my work. Really. As for the entries, I voted for the ones I liked, like a good sport, and I wish them both the best of luck. In the adult category, I thought only Laura H.'s entry was passable at all, and I rather liked it. The teen group was much better by far. I enjoyed several, but I chose Rhiannon of Australia's because it was sweet, it read very well, and it made me smile. So, good luck, ladies! I hope one of you gets to read this one-of-a-kind book! Actually, I'm not jealous about not getting to see the book (seriously!). I knew my chances there were miniscule. I had, however, started fantasizing about all the books I'd buy with that second prize! : D
So, here's what I wrote, and some background, through a link, because my posts are too long anyway...
( What song do wizards use to celebrate birthdays? )
So much more to say, as usual and so little time to say it. Anyway...back for more tomorrow I expect! Good night!
--Susie
P.S. I also found the livejournals of two old friends, who will either be happy I finally have a web presence so they can catch up with what I'm doing, or they will run away screaming and changing their online personae because I'm a crazy stalker... ; )
A couple of things...first, my favorite blogger on Blogger has a nice post today on a topic I have wondered about ever since I first read Harry Potter. I also had fun reading about her childhood pronunciation of a certain Belgian detective's name, as I had literally just been talking about the same thing with my brother (and also my mom). Which of course reminds of a movie quote (so many things do...): "I'm a Belgie, not a Frenchie!" (From Murder By Death) It really made me think about the way I spell unusual words, actually. I agree with Lynneguist on yeah and yea (though Zibby, for example, does it differently), though eh has always been a source of confusion for me. I've only seen "eh" as in "how's it going, eh?" spelled, obviously, e-h. But how does one spell that sound that goes along with a shrug? I've seen "meh" which would rhyme with that word, and not sound like May. Hmmm...So, picture a recent invalid answering the question "how do you feel?" Eh, right? It's not uh, exactly, and certainly doesn't rhyme with day. It's a single-syllable equivalent of "come si, come ca" (except ca would be spelled correctly in an ideal world...), or even "it comes and goes," or "some days are diamonds, some days are stones." : ) Who knows?
And now, a little rant. So, I entered Amazon.com's "Beedle the Bard Ballad Writing Contest." I am a poet. I know what a ballad is, so I thought it an exceedingly stupid name for the contest whose rules (OK, actually it was in the FAQ) explicitly stated that the entries did NOT have to be poems, but simply had to be in English and less that 100 words long. I know. I checked, because I was concerned, because, obviously, I wanted to win, darn it. So, I was rather surprised when almost all of the semi-finalists consisted of unmetered doggeral rhymed couplets. Yeah. Now, I don't mean to sound like a bad loser. I just mean that, in the words of another commenter, I feel "misled." I really enjoyed writing my entry, however, and I still would love to share it with the world, simply because I take joy and pride in my work. Really. As for the entries, I voted for the ones I liked, like a good sport, and I wish them both the best of luck. In the adult category, I thought only Laura H.'s entry was passable at all, and I rather liked it. The teen group was much better by far. I enjoyed several, but I chose Rhiannon of Australia's because it was sweet, it read very well, and it made me smile. So, good luck, ladies! I hope one of you gets to read this one-of-a-kind book! Actually, I'm not jealous about not getting to see the book (seriously!). I knew my chances there were miniscule. I had, however, started fantasizing about all the books I'd buy with that second prize! : D
So, here's what I wrote, and some background, through a link, because my posts are too long anyway...
( What song do wizards use to celebrate birthdays? )
So much more to say, as usual and so little time to say it. Anyway...back for more tomorrow I expect! Good night!
--Susie
P.S. I also found the livejournals of two old friends, who will either be happy I finally have a web presence so they can catch up with what I'm doing, or they will run away screaming and changing their online personae because I'm a crazy stalker... ; )
Saturday, May 3, 2008
It's May! It's May! The...Busy...Month of May!
I know my last post was actualy on May 1st, but I didn't realize it at the time. Well, I got enough sleep last night for the first time in a week, though I also took another nap yesterday afternoon. It's almost becoming a habit. Anyway, many things to talk about, as usual, and very little time. I'm feeling like the White Rabbit lately, instead of my usual mad March hare. "Oh dear, oh dear! I shall be too late!" 1,016 words today. Unfortunately, they were for a different project than the one I'm nominally working on! I think I'll get back to that this evening, however. It was a beautiful warm spring day. The violet-green swallows are back around the house after two days of snow. They should be nesting soon.
So, yesterday I spent the whole day wading in a creek counting cutthroat trout redds. There's a crossword puzzle word for you, along with lek and furcula. A redd is basically a trout nest--a depression in the rocks on the bottom of the stream wherein she lays her eggs. (Actually, the eggs are distributed in the "tail spill," a lump of rocks just behind the depression.) It was actually easier than it sounds. The day was overcast and chilly, but the water was crystal clear. There aren't really any other fish in our creeks besides the trout and not much disturbs the bottom. The redds are easy enough to find because the fish carefully clear away all the algae and sediment from the rocks, so the first thing you notice is a patch of clean grey and white rocks amidst the surrounding dirty brown. Glimpsed many fine birds, though I purposefully left my binoculars in the car (gasp! I know. How could I?), because I knew if I had them, I'd spend the day looking at birds and not in the water! Still--Cooper's hawk, swallows, cinnamon teals, red-winged blackbirds, snipes, and a Canada goose on her nest, watching us warily as we walked around her with her neck stretched out and down and her beak slightly open, silent and very still. And we counted about 60 redds. So, it was a fun, though tiring day.
But it wasn't over yet! After a shower and a brief nap, which was seemingly involuntary (I don't even remember lying down!), we went out to hear the author Joanne Harris (Chocolat, among many others). She was a very good speaker--funny and interesting. She seemed very tired by the end of the evening (and a number of quite stupid questions from some members of the audience), but was friendly and engaging. She said a few things that particularly interested me, the first was that she seems to work a bit like I do--no fixed schedule, though she writes whenever she can, and she also has several projects going at once. I particularly loved her theory of inspiration. Apparently, goblins come out at night and give you the ideas while you're sleeping. As she says, "It must be true. No one's ever disproven it!" She also described her birthplace as "twelve miles from Wuthering Heights," that is, near Leeds, the largest city in Yorkshire.*
She had a few things to say about "our Jo" as well. She said she'd met J.K. Rowling "several" times, and offered the following about Harry Potter: first, that it was wonderful for getting boys to read (much agreement from the audience), and second, that it was so popular for two reasons: (Hmmm...my sentence construction is starting to look a bit like Deathly Hallows) that is was simply a good story and not "a book about issues" (her example of an "issue" was a crackhouse in Glasgow), and also that "it doesn't take people too far out of their comfort zone." I agree wholeheartedly with the first point (although HP raises a number a issues, it doesn't really resolve them; they are mostly just set-dressing, unfortunately), and partly with the second. Yes, Harry Potter relies heavily on familiar fairy tale and (later) Biblical themes and conventions, but it also challenges what a children's book is and can be about, and pushes a little bit into the idea of Death not being Evil, which I appreciate a lot, certainly.
Ms. Harris was mostly talking about the sequel to Chocolat, The Girl With No Shadow. I haven't started it yet (as I'm working on a few other things currently that I'd like to finish first!), but it sounds fun, and perhaps better than the first one, which I read quickly, but joined my very short list of "books whose movies I liked better" along with The Black Stallion and, amazingly enough, Sense and Sensibility (the 1995 version), even though they changed a number of things from the novels.
She also told us a bit about her experience teaching at Leeds Grammar School (she didn't say which years exactly), where she was the only female permanent member of staff at the historically (and then) all-boys school. She also has a book either about or inspired by those same years...Actually, all in all, although I was not hugely fond of Chocolat, after hearing her speak, I am very interested in reading more of her work. Several audience members praised Five Quarters of the Orange as some of the best writing they'd ever read. That is enough to tempt me, certainly! : )
This morning I got a chance to rest a little. (In fact I made waffles while my favorite neighbor Ethel M. (more about her another day!) ruminated in the yard outside the kitchen window...) Then, this afternoon I went to see a play by a local playwright, Bob Berky, called The Fourth Nail. I heartily do not recommend it. On the one hand, I was happy to support the local theater and a writer, and the actors were all good (including Mr. Berky himself), but, on the other hand, the play was terrible. I was surprised, as Alexandra Fuller (herself a wonderful writer!) gave it a rave review in the weekly paper...(Yes, yes, I know. I live in a tiny town. We have a weekly paper. I have to drive ten miles to the Post Office on Wednesdays to get it. And yet, this tiny Wyoming town is filled to the trout gills with writers and artists and culture. Ask me about our art museum...Another post...) I guess I'll never trust "Bo's" opinion again... ; D
In the first minute or so, my thought was (I'm not sure what exactly this says about me, actually...) "I've written better plays than this!" My second thought was about the historical inaccuracies. You see, the play was not really about the Crusades (it was set in 1099), but nor was it a fully grown satire of our own time (as some reviewers had said). No, in the end it wasn't really about anything. It was a set of mostly unrealized ideas hinting at profundity, but never really coalescing or imparting any truth or wisdom. The play had a lot of promise: it featured an alchemist, a wise fool, a blind king, and two inept knightly con-men, and the first act had some humor and was interesting enough (except for the scenes featuring the alchemist and fool together), but the second half was flat, dull, and utterly meaningless, with an entirely unsatisfying ending, that the author clearly thought was strong. I kept thinking that such a premise in other hands would have been wonderful. I will also add that it pains me to pan something, because I love the theater and acting and writing, and I too have written many things, including a few that weren't nearly as wonderful as I thought they were at the time. But I think I was not alone. The applause at the end (by the audience of 15 for the Saturday matinee--very sad in and of itself, as I think it's really special that we have theater in this little town, in this big empty state mostly filled with ignorance and superstition) could only be described as polite.
As usual, I would love to stay and say more, but time is short, and I need to write a scene introducing the queen...Actually, she's just the mother of the future king, but I'm not going to give it away. I have five days worth of writing I missed and will never make up, though tomorrow is an empty day otherwise, and I plan to work through most of it. So, here's hoping I do!
-Susie
*Oddly enough, we were discussing the use of miles versus kilometers and Imperial versus metric measures while counting redds. My understanding is that, colloquially, some English people still use miles to measure distance. Of course, Ms. Harris has a French mother, and likely tailors her talks some for an American audience. Anyone have any insight on that?
I also could say many things about both Wuthering Heights and Yorkshire, but I will refrain for now. Interestingly, Ms. Harris spoke French at home, despite living in Yorkshire, and learned English in school, at age seven. She also dropped her Yorkshire accent somewhere along the way and now speaks with a very clear English accent, such as one often hears in the movies. Rather a pity, really. ; )
Also, trivia and a question...Matt Lewis (Neville in the Potter films) is from Leeds. Can anyone tell me what the deal is with the golden owls? (In Leeds. I know about the owls in Harry Potter!) : )
So, yesterday I spent the whole day wading in a creek counting cutthroat trout redds. There's a crossword puzzle word for you, along with lek and furcula. A redd is basically a trout nest--a depression in the rocks on the bottom of the stream wherein she lays her eggs. (Actually, the eggs are distributed in the "tail spill," a lump of rocks just behind the depression.) It was actually easier than it sounds. The day was overcast and chilly, but the water was crystal clear. There aren't really any other fish in our creeks besides the trout and not much disturbs the bottom. The redds are easy enough to find because the fish carefully clear away all the algae and sediment from the rocks, so the first thing you notice is a patch of clean grey and white rocks amidst the surrounding dirty brown. Glimpsed many fine birds, though I purposefully left my binoculars in the car (gasp! I know. How could I?), because I knew if I had them, I'd spend the day looking at birds and not in the water! Still--Cooper's hawk, swallows, cinnamon teals, red-winged blackbirds, snipes, and a Canada goose on her nest, watching us warily as we walked around her with her neck stretched out and down and her beak slightly open, silent and very still. And we counted about 60 redds. So, it was a fun, though tiring day.
But it wasn't over yet! After a shower and a brief nap, which was seemingly involuntary (I don't even remember lying down!), we went out to hear the author Joanne Harris (Chocolat, among many others). She was a very good speaker--funny and interesting. She seemed very tired by the end of the evening (and a number of quite stupid questions from some members of the audience), but was friendly and engaging. She said a few things that particularly interested me, the first was that she seems to work a bit like I do--no fixed schedule, though she writes whenever she can, and she also has several projects going at once. I particularly loved her theory of inspiration. Apparently, goblins come out at night and give you the ideas while you're sleeping. As she says, "It must be true. No one's ever disproven it!" She also described her birthplace as "twelve miles from Wuthering Heights," that is, near Leeds, the largest city in Yorkshire.*
She had a few things to say about "our Jo" as well. She said she'd met J.K. Rowling "several" times, and offered the following about Harry Potter: first, that it was wonderful for getting boys to read (much agreement from the audience), and second, that it was so popular for two reasons: (Hmmm...my sentence construction is starting to look a bit like Deathly Hallows) that is was simply a good story and not "a book about issues" (her example of an "issue" was a crackhouse in Glasgow), and also that "it doesn't take people too far out of their comfort zone." I agree wholeheartedly with the first point (although HP raises a number a issues, it doesn't really resolve them; they are mostly just set-dressing, unfortunately), and partly with the second. Yes, Harry Potter relies heavily on familiar fairy tale and (later) Biblical themes and conventions, but it also challenges what a children's book is and can be about, and pushes a little bit into the idea of Death not being Evil, which I appreciate a lot, certainly.
Ms. Harris was mostly talking about the sequel to Chocolat, The Girl With No Shadow. I haven't started it yet (as I'm working on a few other things currently that I'd like to finish first!), but it sounds fun, and perhaps better than the first one, which I read quickly, but joined my very short list of "books whose movies I liked better" along with The Black Stallion and, amazingly enough, Sense and Sensibility (the 1995 version), even though they changed a number of things from the novels.
She also told us a bit about her experience teaching at Leeds Grammar School (she didn't say which years exactly), where she was the only female permanent member of staff at the historically (and then) all-boys school. She also has a book either about or inspired by those same years...Actually, all in all, although I was not hugely fond of Chocolat, after hearing her speak, I am very interested in reading more of her work. Several audience members praised Five Quarters of the Orange as some of the best writing they'd ever read. That is enough to tempt me, certainly! : )
This morning I got a chance to rest a little. (In fact I made waffles while my favorite neighbor Ethel M. (more about her another day!) ruminated in the yard outside the kitchen window...) Then, this afternoon I went to see a play by a local playwright, Bob Berky, called The Fourth Nail. I heartily do not recommend it. On the one hand, I was happy to support the local theater and a writer, and the actors were all good (including Mr. Berky himself), but, on the other hand, the play was terrible. I was surprised, as Alexandra Fuller (herself a wonderful writer!) gave it a rave review in the weekly paper...(Yes, yes, I know. I live in a tiny town. We have a weekly paper. I have to drive ten miles to the Post Office on Wednesdays to get it. And yet, this tiny Wyoming town is filled to the trout gills with writers and artists and culture. Ask me about our art museum...Another post...) I guess I'll never trust "Bo's" opinion again... ; D
In the first minute or so, my thought was (I'm not sure what exactly this says about me, actually...) "I've written better plays than this!" My second thought was about the historical inaccuracies. You see, the play was not really about the Crusades (it was set in 1099), but nor was it a fully grown satire of our own time (as some reviewers had said). No, in the end it wasn't really about anything. It was a set of mostly unrealized ideas hinting at profundity, but never really coalescing or imparting any truth or wisdom. The play had a lot of promise: it featured an alchemist, a wise fool, a blind king, and two inept knightly con-men, and the first act had some humor and was interesting enough (except for the scenes featuring the alchemist and fool together), but the second half was flat, dull, and utterly meaningless, with an entirely unsatisfying ending, that the author clearly thought was strong. I kept thinking that such a premise in other hands would have been wonderful. I will also add that it pains me to pan something, because I love the theater and acting and writing, and I too have written many things, including a few that weren't nearly as wonderful as I thought they were at the time. But I think I was not alone. The applause at the end (by the audience of 15 for the Saturday matinee--very sad in and of itself, as I think it's really special that we have theater in this little town, in this big empty state mostly filled with ignorance and superstition) could only be described as polite.
As usual, I would love to stay and say more, but time is short, and I need to write a scene introducing the queen...Actually, she's just the mother of the future king, but I'm not going to give it away. I have five days worth of writing I missed and will never make up, though tomorrow is an empty day otherwise, and I plan to work through most of it. So, here's hoping I do!
-Susie
*Oddly enough, we were discussing the use of miles versus kilometers and Imperial versus metric measures while counting redds. My understanding is that, colloquially, some English people still use miles to measure distance. Of course, Ms. Harris has a French mother, and likely tailors her talks some for an American audience. Anyone have any insight on that?
I also could say many things about both Wuthering Heights and Yorkshire, but I will refrain for now. Interestingly, Ms. Harris spoke French at home, despite living in Yorkshire, and learned English in school, at age seven. She also dropped her Yorkshire accent somewhere along the way and now speaks with a very clear English accent, such as one often hears in the movies. Rather a pity, really. ; )
Also, trivia and a question...Matt Lewis (Neville in the Potter films) is from Leeds. Can anyone tell me what the deal is with the golden owls? (In Leeds. I know about the owls in Harry Potter!) : )
Friday, April 25, 2008
Sighs of Spring
It is currently snowing. A lot. We have about two inches now at 7:40 p.m. and it shows no sign of letting up any time soon. It is starting to stick to the road and has already thoroughly covered all the ground that was bare two days ago. Two years ago (three Aprils) at this time, we had heavy rains for about a month and incredible flowers by the end of May. Last year the daffodils were already finishing, the ground was completely bare and the mule deer fawn (picture) was still very fuzzy as he competed with rosy-finches for birdseed in some friends' yard. Who knows what this weather will bring. Three years ago (four Aprils) there were snow flurries on Memorial Day. As I enter my third full year living here, I feel like I really don't know this place at all, even though I know it very well. I was thinking this morning about connectedness with nature. Human beings have a tendency to take familiar things with them when they travel, including outmoded attitudes toward living. Resources that seemed inexhaustible in one place are treated as such in the next until they are, indeed, exhausted. Animals that have been feared and hated continue to be so, even in the very last place on Earth they still exist. I came here seeking wilderness, beauty and contentment in nature. Naively, probably, I thought this place could be a place where I could be perfectly happy. And I did find all those things I was looking for, and a little less than I'd hoped for. But I've also seen deeper prejudices and ignorance and pure idiocy than I expected. I don't want to get into this now, but I will just say that dogs and cats and humans may exist happily anywhere, while wolves and bison and grizzly bears literally have no place else to be and no room left to roam.
Only 1200 and some words today, but I did come up with some names for my characters that needed names and I think I've finally established what my story is about, that is to say its theme, its moral even. And I like it. And I cleaned out my desk finally, because an organized workspace is helpful to an organized mind. And just as fresh snow leaves room for fresh tracks (marten this morning), it also gives room to fresh thoughts. So, despite my nagging self-doubt and my sadness over the continuing loss of wild things and wild places, I am content this evening, in my work and in myself. Darn it! Snow makes me philosophical, too. And the snow is slowing down now and the sky is looking a little bluer...Hmm...maybe it's Spring after all...
Thursday, April 24, 2008
The Birds of Spring
So, I'm finally going to talk about wildlife. Huzzah! But first, my word count so far today is 2,099. It was "housekeeping" kind of writing I'm afraid, though--I finally figured out where the novel is going and made an outline with detailed summaries of what each chapter will contain. I'm trying to convince myself that it counts as work, as it's an important part of the writing process. I may go back and fill in the rest of a chapter or two later. This should help the writing go faster, however, which must be a good thing, right?
Technically it is spring here. Last night it snowed and it's cold and wintry today, but the birds are coming back in ever larger numbers. During the winter, we have mostly black, white, and black and white birds on the hill here: ravens, magpies, Clark's nutcrackers, trumpeter swans, and both mountain and black-capped chickadees, as well as the occasional bald eagle or hairy--or, less often, downy--woodpecker. But yesterday a new color was added! Yes. We have brown birds now, too! : )
Two days ago, some guys were doing something on the house next door (still three tenths of a mile away). When I went for my walk I head them hammering something. I also heard the calls of a distressed woodpecker, answering their hammering with his territorial call. Yesterday I saw two male red-naped sapsuckers (one of which was likely the same aforementioned bird) fighting hotly over a prime nesting area. These are mostly black and white birds too, but compared to all the bare trees and snow I've seen for the last five months, they were a positive rainbow of beautiful tones--the bright red of their heads and throats and the soft creamy-yellow of their bellies. Their mates should be close behind them somewhere, arriving soon to tap into the bushes and trees around the yard and get ready to nest. The dark-eyed juncos are also starting to sing--a nondescript kind of trill.
When I finally had some time to myself yesterday, but was, as yet, unable to get on the computer and work on my Current Project, I sat in a chair and looked out the window, where I was immediately distracted by a flock of juncos pecking at the old dry grass seeds that the melting of the snow has revealed. I would describe myself as an avid birder, but, although I keep a "life list," I am not one of those birders who is obsessed with seeing only the newest species. I enjoy observing even the common and drab birds that I know best, so I can get to know them better. House sparrows, for example, have a highly complex social structure that even a casual observer can see something of, if she just takes a few minutes to watch.
Juncos spend a lot of their time on the ground, where they hop around foraging and scratching the dirt (like most buntings AKA emberizids AKA "sparrows" here in North America) with both feet at once. Being small and brownish-grey and long-tailed and having their white bellies hidden when they're on the ground, they look a lot like mice moving around. The dark-eyed junco has an almost endless array of plumage variation, so much so that it was once divided into four or five separate species. The variety that breeds here is called the pink-sided junco, though it is pretty close to the Oregon junco, which also passes through here in the spring and fall (and some of them winter here as well) to and from its breeding grounds in British Columbia, Idaho, Washington, and, of course, Oregon.
Juncos are friendly and fearless and quite common. Most varieties winter in the U.S. and they can be seen in every state and most of Canada for at least part of the year. This particular flock consisted of about thirty pink-sided. Theoretically, one can tell male and female juncos apart by plumage. Theoretically. Among pink-sideds, the males have slightly darker and greyer heads with a cleaner break between the grey nape and the brown back. And at close range (some hopped right under the window), I could indeed see that some were browner. Ahem. Yes, I couldn't swear that those were all female, though. Anyway, they fed for a very long time, occasionally and seeminly for no reason at all, viciously fighting with each other--lifting their wings as they faced off over a seed, or screeching and spatting with claws and beaks for a few seconds. Then they would go back to pecking as though nothing had happened. I think it would be wrong to see such behavior and conclude that birds have short memories or (heaven forbid!) that they are stupid. I think, in fact, having watched them before at less lean times of the year, that they are just really hungry. And it's not hard to see why with it the end of April and six to eight inches still on the ground in most places.
I wouldn't have stayed with the juncos as long as I did, I suppose, except there were two other birds with them. One was readily identifyable as a white-crowned sparrow, which is significantly larger than a junco and one of the most visible and distinctive sparrows we have. I was still surprised to see it, not only with a flock of juncos, but on our hill, as I usually associate white-crowned sparrows with water--I see them along ponds and streams in willows or cottonwoods. And there was another, very small brown bird there too. It was fifteen minutes before I was brave enough to run for my binoculars, convinced the whole flock would be gone by the time I returned. They were very hungry, however, and outside my window was some of the only snow-free ground in quite a distance, so they were all still there. The LBB turned out to be a Brewer's sparrow, which surprised me much more than the white-crowned, as I've only ever seen Brewer's sparrows in the sage brush and other open country (though I'm notoriously bad at identifying sparrows, preferring large charismatic birds like ostriches, etc.).
Oddly, the adult Brewer's sparrow is a distinctive and easily identifyable sparrow, not because of the markings it has, but because of the markings it doesn't have. It is a plain grey-brown bird, mostly unmarked except for faint stripes on their heads and back, which are universal to all buntings ("sparrows"--the naming thing is fascinating and deserves a post of its own later). This one had a clear white semi-circle under its eye and a very clean grey collar around the sides of its neck. According to The Sibley Guide to Birds, this means it's of the population that breeds in the Yukon and part of Alaska. I haven't really studied sparrows, (indeed, I'll admit right here I often dismiss them all as "little brown birds" and therefore unidentifiable), so it would be interesting to know more about this regional variation and what kind breed around here. As for relative size of this bird to the juncos--it was clearly smaller, but it was also all fluffed out (which brings up the wonder of feathers--they are not fixed you see, and a bird's appearance can change enormously just by how it's holding its feathers), perhaps to make it look bigger to all the louder and larger birds around it.
This post is already longer than I intended, so I'll just conclude by saying I watched with great interest the birds' reaction to various raptors that flew over head including (twice) a pair of red tailed hawks I'll definitely mention again, a Cooper's hawk and a small falcon (probably a kestrel, though I wasn't positive). Apparently, the white-crowned sparrow, at least, proved its worth to the flock, as its greater height seems to have allowed it to spot the Cooper's hawk first, and the flock's attentiveness seems to have discouraged the predator. They also ignored the red taileds very quickly after spotting them, as they posed no threat. And I ended the day by seeing an osprey, which, although it is black and white, is most definitely a bird of the Summer.
And this morning I woke up to fresh snow and the first Swainson's thrush of the year hopping along my walk looking for worms, as well as a little frozen corpse of a junco who probably flew into the window and died. So, it's bittersweet living so close to nature. I can enjoy watching the birds and being close to them and the warmth escaping from the house helps melt the snow around the walkway, but my human presence can be destructive too.
-Susie
Technically it is spring here. Last night it snowed and it's cold and wintry today, but the birds are coming back in ever larger numbers. During the winter, we have mostly black, white, and black and white birds on the hill here: ravens, magpies, Clark's nutcrackers, trumpeter swans, and both mountain and black-capped chickadees, as well as the occasional bald eagle or hairy--or, less often, downy--woodpecker. But yesterday a new color was added! Yes. We have brown birds now, too! : )
Two days ago, some guys were doing something on the house next door (still three tenths of a mile away). When I went for my walk I head them hammering something. I also heard the calls of a distressed woodpecker, answering their hammering with his territorial call. Yesterday I saw two male red-naped sapsuckers (one of which was likely the same aforementioned bird) fighting hotly over a prime nesting area. These are mostly black and white birds too, but compared to all the bare trees and snow I've seen for the last five months, they were a positive rainbow of beautiful tones--the bright red of their heads and throats and the soft creamy-yellow of their bellies. Their mates should be close behind them somewhere, arriving soon to tap into the bushes and trees around the yard and get ready to nest. The dark-eyed juncos are also starting to sing--a nondescript kind of trill.
When I finally had some time to myself yesterday, but was, as yet, unable to get on the computer and work on my Current Project, I sat in a chair and looked out the window, where I was immediately distracted by a flock of juncos pecking at the old dry grass seeds that the melting of the snow has revealed. I would describe myself as an avid birder, but, although I keep a "life list," I am not one of those birders who is obsessed with seeing only the newest species. I enjoy observing even the common and drab birds that I know best, so I can get to know them better. House sparrows, for example, have a highly complex social structure that even a casual observer can see something of, if she just takes a few minutes to watch.
Juncos spend a lot of their time on the ground, where they hop around foraging and scratching the dirt (like most buntings AKA emberizids AKA "sparrows" here in North America) with both feet at once. Being small and brownish-grey and long-tailed and having their white bellies hidden when they're on the ground, they look a lot like mice moving around. The dark-eyed junco has an almost endless array of plumage variation, so much so that it was once divided into four or five separate species. The variety that breeds here is called the pink-sided junco, though it is pretty close to the Oregon junco, which also passes through here in the spring and fall (and some of them winter here as well) to and from its breeding grounds in British Columbia, Idaho, Washington, and, of course, Oregon.
Juncos are friendly and fearless and quite common. Most varieties winter in the U.S. and they can be seen in every state and most of Canada for at least part of the year. This particular flock consisted of about thirty pink-sided. Theoretically, one can tell male and female juncos apart by plumage. Theoretically. Among pink-sideds, the males have slightly darker and greyer heads with a cleaner break between the grey nape and the brown back. And at close range (some hopped right under the window), I could indeed see that some were browner. Ahem. Yes, I couldn't swear that those were all female, though. Anyway, they fed for a very long time, occasionally and seeminly for no reason at all, viciously fighting with each other--lifting their wings as they faced off over a seed, or screeching and spatting with claws and beaks for a few seconds. Then they would go back to pecking as though nothing had happened. I think it would be wrong to see such behavior and conclude that birds have short memories or (heaven forbid!) that they are stupid. I think, in fact, having watched them before at less lean times of the year, that they are just really hungry. And it's not hard to see why with it the end of April and six to eight inches still on the ground in most places.
I wouldn't have stayed with the juncos as long as I did, I suppose, except there were two other birds with them. One was readily identifyable as a white-crowned sparrow, which is significantly larger than a junco and one of the most visible and distinctive sparrows we have. I was still surprised to see it, not only with a flock of juncos, but on our hill, as I usually associate white-crowned sparrows with water--I see them along ponds and streams in willows or cottonwoods. And there was another, very small brown bird there too. It was fifteen minutes before I was brave enough to run for my binoculars, convinced the whole flock would be gone by the time I returned. They were very hungry, however, and outside my window was some of the only snow-free ground in quite a distance, so they were all still there. The LBB turned out to be a Brewer's sparrow, which surprised me much more than the white-crowned, as I've only ever seen Brewer's sparrows in the sage brush and other open country (though I'm notoriously bad at identifying sparrows, preferring large charismatic birds like ostriches, etc.).
Oddly, the adult Brewer's sparrow is a distinctive and easily identifyable sparrow, not because of the markings it has, but because of the markings it doesn't have. It is a plain grey-brown bird, mostly unmarked except for faint stripes on their heads and back, which are universal to all buntings ("sparrows"--the naming thing is fascinating and deserves a post of its own later). This one had a clear white semi-circle under its eye and a very clean grey collar around the sides of its neck. According to The Sibley Guide to Birds, this means it's of the population that breeds in the Yukon and part of Alaska. I haven't really studied sparrows, (indeed, I'll admit right here I often dismiss them all as "little brown birds" and therefore unidentifiable), so it would be interesting to know more about this regional variation and what kind breed around here. As for relative size of this bird to the juncos--it was clearly smaller, but it was also all fluffed out (which brings up the wonder of feathers--they are not fixed you see, and a bird's appearance can change enormously just by how it's holding its feathers), perhaps to make it look bigger to all the louder and larger birds around it.
This post is already longer than I intended, so I'll just conclude by saying I watched with great interest the birds' reaction to various raptors that flew over head including (twice) a pair of red tailed hawks I'll definitely mention again, a Cooper's hawk and a small falcon (probably a kestrel, though I wasn't positive). Apparently, the white-crowned sparrow, at least, proved its worth to the flock, as its greater height seems to have allowed it to spot the Cooper's hawk first, and the flock's attentiveness seems to have discouraged the predator. They also ignored the red taileds very quickly after spotting them, as they posed no threat. And I ended the day by seeing an osprey, which, although it is black and white, is most definitely a bird of the Summer.
And this morning I woke up to fresh snow and the first Swainson's thrush of the year hopping along my walk looking for worms, as well as a little frozen corpse of a junco who probably flew into the window and died. So, it's bittersweet living so close to nature. I can enjoy watching the birds and being close to them and the warmth escaping from the house helps melt the snow around the walkway, but my human presence can be destructive too.
-Susie
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
We Are Not Amused
I wanted to write about birds today, but other things got in the way. First things first: the weather is cloudy and the evening sky has that lovely lavender-bluish tint it gets around here. There was some wind earlier and I hate to say, I stayed inside the whole time, which is not (happily) to say that I didn't see any wildlife. Gosh I love living here! Anyway, I was very busy all day, as I often am on Wednesdays and didn't have a chance to sit down and write until six! As I often do in such a situation, I said to myself, "Oh it's so late, I can't possibly work now! I don't want to!" but then I thought of what I'd say here, and the shame if I missed a day blogging/journaling because I didn't have a respectable wordcount. And I think a lot of what I wrote today was rather crappy, but I resisted the urge to edit and just forced myself to pound out the story. And the result? 1,708 words! I guess discipline can be taught!
Now, a few rants have gotten in my way this evening, I'm afraid. Firstly, the New York Times Sunday Crossword. Humpf. (Perhaps now would be a good time to explain that we get the NYT Sunday puzzle on Wednesday. After driving 10 miles to the post office. Yeah. Rural Wyoming. What can I say?) The puzzle was pretty easy, though some clues left me wondering about the mental health of the author, and I thought it was nice that they had all the planets in order. Well, almost all...All eight planets... To me, though, Pluto will always be a planet. So there! : )
Onto other rants. So, normally, I wouldn't admit to reading Newsweek, but two things stood out that I had to share (I'm sorry!). The first was a little "articlet" in the back about the Rowling/WB/RDR suit. Besides getting some facts wrong (My understanding is that the author of the Lexicon, Steve Vander Ark is not a defendant, but was a witness, also JK Rowling is co-plaintif with Warner Brothers.), and being unnecessarily inflamatory--and I'm taking the bait, the irony is not lost on me--("Harry Potter Author Makes Fan Cry"), it also brings up one of The Things I Hate Most In The Entire World which is "the Evil Rich Argument." Grr! Without incriminating myself (Why yes, I am a millionaire. How else do you think I can afford to write poetry?), I'd just like to say, rich people are not inherently bad. You may quote me on this. ; D
The fact is that fame has not made Jo greedy. In fact, people who try to paint this suit as about money are willfully ignorant, destructive and/or just total morons. Believe me, the idea that the Lexicon could unfairly or harmfully compete with "The Scottish Book" or hurt the movie franchise is absolutely and utterly ridiculous. And having been an avid fan of PotterCast since near the beginning, I'd like to give Steve the benefit of the doubt and bet that he wasn't just interested in grabbing a buck (or thousands) off the fandom, either. After all, the website is still up. (However, that doesn't excuse the fact that a librarian who's written about copyright law before should have known better, and it also says nothing about RDR Books who seem to have been misguided throughout the whole process, and who of course would make more money off the book than the author anyway.) The fact is that copyright infringment is WRONG, damn it! It is always wrong. That Jo is rich does NOT make her less entitled to sue over it. The fact that she's now rich only means that she can afford to sue over it! And I, for one, am grateful!
The other thing in Newsweek was the following quote from (ahem) our dear Vice President: "I have no doubt that we are in the midst of a global warming. Or, as I like to call it, Spring." Antipodeans are not amused. Neither am I really, but I understand physics...and astronomy, and natural science, and geography, and things like that. But maybe I'm just too educated to be a real American. And please, nobody write in and tell me he's from Wyoming and people in Wyoming don't know any better. My Mom already told me. : P
Sigh. Well, I feel better getting that off my chest. Plus I have fresh, warm, homemade chocolate-chip cookies...Oh well. I'll write about the birds tomorrow.
-Susie
Now, a few rants have gotten in my way this evening, I'm afraid. Firstly, the New York Times Sunday Crossword. Humpf. (Perhaps now would be a good time to explain that we get the NYT Sunday puzzle on Wednesday. After driving 10 miles to the post office. Yeah. Rural Wyoming. What can I say?) The puzzle was pretty easy, though some clues left me wondering about the mental health of the author, and I thought it was nice that they had all the planets in order. Well, almost all...All eight planets... To me, though, Pluto will always be a planet. So there! : )
Onto other rants. So, normally, I wouldn't admit to reading Newsweek, but two things stood out that I had to share (I'm sorry!). The first was a little "articlet" in the back about the Rowling/WB/RDR suit. Besides getting some facts wrong (My understanding is that the author of the Lexicon, Steve Vander Ark is not a defendant, but was a witness, also JK Rowling is co-plaintif with Warner Brothers.), and being unnecessarily inflamatory--and I'm taking the bait, the irony is not lost on me--("Harry Potter Author Makes Fan Cry"), it also brings up one of The Things I Hate Most In The Entire World which is "the Evil Rich Argument." Grr! Without incriminating myself (Why yes, I am a millionaire. How else do you think I can afford to write poetry?), I'd just like to say, rich people are not inherently bad. You may quote me on this. ; D
The fact is that fame has not made Jo greedy. In fact, people who try to paint this suit as about money are willfully ignorant, destructive and/or just total morons. Believe me, the idea that the Lexicon could unfairly or harmfully compete with "The Scottish Book" or hurt the movie franchise is absolutely and utterly ridiculous. And having been an avid fan of PotterCast since near the beginning, I'd like to give Steve the benefit of the doubt and bet that he wasn't just interested in grabbing a buck (or thousands) off the fandom, either. After all, the website is still up. (However, that doesn't excuse the fact that a librarian who's written about copyright law before should have known better, and it also says nothing about RDR Books who seem to have been misguided throughout the whole process, and who of course would make more money off the book than the author anyway.) The fact is that copyright infringment is WRONG, damn it! It is always wrong. That Jo is rich does NOT make her less entitled to sue over it. The fact that she's now rich only means that she can afford to sue over it! And I, for one, am grateful!
The other thing in Newsweek was the following quote from (ahem) our dear Vice President: "I have no doubt that we are in the midst of a global warming. Or, as I like to call it, Spring." Antipodeans are not amused. Neither am I really, but I understand physics...and astronomy, and natural science, and geography, and things like that. But maybe I'm just too educated to be a real American. And please, nobody write in and tell me he's from Wyoming and people in Wyoming don't know any better. My Mom already told me. : P
Sigh. Well, I feel better getting that off my chest. Plus I have fresh, warm, homemade chocolate-chip cookies...Oh well. I'll write about the birds tomorrow.
-Susie
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
The Power of Positive...Blogging?
If I have one really serious fault as a writer, it's that I lack discipline. This Journal is supposed to help with that. See, even if no one reads it, by writing it down, I some how have made it real. This is called intention and is one of the easiest and most surprisingly effective forms of magic. So, last night, I decided that if I could write down my word count every day in here, then I couldn't cheat or procrastinate as much, because anyone could see that I had been irresponsible. Behold the power of public shame!! So, each entry from now on will start with a brief note about the weather (because it's interesting around here, really) and my day's word count. This will also discourage me from blogging or playing around on my favorite websites before I've gotten my work done for the day. My goal is to write at least 1500 words a day, with an absolute minimum of 1,000. This is a fairly modest goal for me, as I generally write that much in an hour or two. But it's already working! This morning I sat down at the computer and opened my Current Project and said to myself, "Oh! I so do not feel like writing today!!" But, after only ten minutes of procrastinating, I forced myself to open the file and just start writing. And lo and behold I wrote 1,754 words. Huzzah! So:
Tuesday, April 22, 2008. The weather is warm and Springy, with uncertain clouds and lots of thin golden sunshine. The foxes have been very active in the East yard and I expect the female to make a den around there soon. I hope to see her with her kits again this year, though the coyotes have been back on the hill since March. No daffodils yet, though there's some short little green grass where the snow has melted and almost all of the aspens have visible red leaf buds. I plan to go for my walk right after I post this. Word Count: 1,754.
Yeah. That works. Anyway, it looks like I'm going to be getting a lot busier soon (Eeek!). I'm not entirely sure how that will be possible, but no matter what, I'm going to keep up my current progress on the book and keep posting here too. I can do that. I don't need sleep. More fun stuff to come, but now I need to get outside before I run out of time. Sigh. Adulthood is just not all it's cracked up to be.
-Susie Haberfeld (trying to boost search results...)
Tuesday, April 22, 2008. The weather is warm and Springy, with uncertain clouds and lots of thin golden sunshine. The foxes have been very active in the East yard and I expect the female to make a den around there soon. I hope to see her with her kits again this year, though the coyotes have been back on the hill since March. No daffodils yet, though there's some short little green grass where the snow has melted and almost all of the aspens have visible red leaf buds. I plan to go for my walk right after I post this. Word Count: 1,754.
Yeah. That works. Anyway, it looks like I'm going to be getting a lot busier soon (Eeek!). I'm not entirely sure how that will be possible, but no matter what, I'm going to keep up my current progress on the book and keep posting here too. I can do that. I don't need sleep. More fun stuff to come, but now I need to get outside before I run out of time. Sigh. Adulthood is just not all it's cracked up to be.
-Susie Haberfeld (trying to boost search results...)
Monday, April 21, 2008
We have a view!
"To be great is to be misunderstood." I don't feel misunderstood at the moment, actually, nor do I feel great, but I do feel pretty good. Firstly, I've been reading Emerson. I hadn't really before and I don't really know why, because I really like his view of the world. It is similar to mine, in that I believe that everything is connected, "beauty is its own excuse for being," the search for truth is the greatest search of all, and the individual is important, not only for its own sake, but because it is a part of a perfect whole. And yes, over all I think the Universe is as it should be. Certainly, we can do a lot in our own lives to make them and the world around us better, but I really do believe the system works, if that makes sense. For example, I like gravity. I think gravity's a good idea. And I like life. I think living is a good idea, too. I think squirrels are just as important as mountains and God encompases all things, positive and negative, great and small, good and bad, such as they exist. I'll probably talk about all this again, because I spend a lot of time, well, thinking. What can I say? I'm a writer. It's not as if I have a life.
Because of whatever strange involuntary process by which my brain functions, whenever I hear the name Emerson, I think first of the word "transcendental," which immediately causes me to start humming "All My Exes Live in Texas." Verily, the mind is a strange place...Since I've been reading some of Emerson's writings, however, I have been struck by a thought which must be extremely obvious to everyone else in the world--that Emerson is undoubtedly the direct inspiration for the wonderful characters of Mr. Emerson and Mr. George Emerson in E.M. Forster's magnificent A Room With a View. I love Forster too, though I've only read three of his novels (though I expect they're his three best. The other two are Howards End and A Passage to India. The former totally changed my way of thinking about the world and the latter I just loved, but they and their author deserve a post of their own). And all this makes me think of George in the fabulous 1985 movie version climbing in a shrubby tree "yelling his creed." And that always makes me smile.
Anyway, I'm especially at peace with myself this evening because of my own writing. First, I've been working for two days on my latest project (which has very rudely superseded the other two novels I've been working on--ideas do that to me sometimes, but this one I'm determined to finish rapidly) and already have more than 5,000 words. So, I should have 50,000 words in only eighteen more days, right? Ha! I wrote two chapters yesterday and only one today, and I'm not going to be able to get any work done for a few days next week, plus I'm fairly certain this project will be much more than 50,000 words--after all, The Splitting of the World is 90-some thousand and this project is looking like a trilogy...Sigh. Oh well. But, as I often do when I've just started a project, I think this one has real potential. : )
The other thing was a poem. I've been working on it for a contest since the first week of April and have two very different versions of it now. I think I've decided on the version I like better and have perfected it now, though I think I'll wait to send it in until tomorrow. I will definitely post the version I didn't choose and discuss it in more detail when the contest is finished. So, that's something to look forward to...
Meanwhile, going by the dictionary definition alone, Transcendental Idealism sounds related to Monism...Here are some more quotes from Emerson for you: "character is higher than intellect," "the office of the scholar is to cheer, to raise, and to guide men by showing them facts amidst appearances" (I think Cala would like this Emerson guy...), "We know better than we do. We do not yet possess ourselves, and we know at the same time that we are much more," and my favorite "the soul is the perceiver and revealer of truth. We know truth when we see it, let skeptic and scoffer say what they choose."
And also the wonderful new verb: "to Shakspearize" (he spelled it that way). I do that sometimes...
-Susie
Because of whatever strange involuntary process by which my brain functions, whenever I hear the name Emerson, I think first of the word "transcendental," which immediately causes me to start humming "All My Exes Live in Texas." Verily, the mind is a strange place...Since I've been reading some of Emerson's writings, however, I have been struck by a thought which must be extremely obvious to everyone else in the world--that Emerson is undoubtedly the direct inspiration for the wonderful characters of Mr. Emerson and Mr. George Emerson in E.M. Forster's magnificent A Room With a View. I love Forster too, though I've only read three of his novels (though I expect they're his three best. The other two are Howards End and A Passage to India. The former totally changed my way of thinking about the world and the latter I just loved, but they and their author deserve a post of their own). And all this makes me think of George in the fabulous 1985 movie version climbing in a shrubby tree "yelling his creed." And that always makes me smile.
Anyway, I'm especially at peace with myself this evening because of my own writing. First, I've been working for two days on my latest project (which has very rudely superseded the other two novels I've been working on--ideas do that to me sometimes, but this one I'm determined to finish rapidly) and already have more than 5,000 words. So, I should have 50,000 words in only eighteen more days, right? Ha! I wrote two chapters yesterday and only one today, and I'm not going to be able to get any work done for a few days next week, plus I'm fairly certain this project will be much more than 50,000 words--after all, The Splitting of the World is 90-some thousand and this project is looking like a trilogy...Sigh. Oh well. But, as I often do when I've just started a project, I think this one has real potential. : )
The other thing was a poem. I've been working on it for a contest since the first week of April and have two very different versions of it now. I think I've decided on the version I like better and have perfected it now, though I think I'll wait to send it in until tomorrow. I will definitely post the version I didn't choose and discuss it in more detail when the contest is finished. So, that's something to look forward to...
Meanwhile, going by the dictionary definition alone, Transcendental Idealism sounds related to Monism...Here are some more quotes from Emerson for you: "character is higher than intellect," "the office of the scholar is to cheer, to raise, and to guide men by showing them facts amidst appearances" (I think Cala would like this Emerson guy...), "We know better than we do. We do not yet possess ourselves, and we know at the same time that we are much more," and my favorite "the soul is the perceiver and revealer of truth. We know truth when we see it, let skeptic and scoffer say what they choose."
And also the wonderful new verb: "to Shakspearize" (he spelled it that way). I do that sometimes...
-Susie
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)