I went another round with the weather tonight, and I must ask: why does this happen when I'm feeling, well, second hand?
We've played host to family for the last few days, so it's been late nights and... way too much of the vino.
I didn't wake up with a hangover (yay!), but the tiredness of a very late night lingered. Figured an early night would do me, but that was before the mightiest thunderstorm evah.
How mighty? The noise of wind and rain overwhelmed the sound of thunder - and the falling branch into the front yard. Within ten minutes, the water level out the back rose three inches to lap at the back door.
Tiredness fled under the "Oh, shit!" moment. On with the gumboots and out into the water, icy rain, howling gale and bright strobes of lightning. I'm becoming very handy with the yard broom, sweeping the water around the side of the house and down the driveway for the next half hour.
The street drains were simply overwhelmed by the volume of water; the lone car (a 4WD) crept along the street because it couldn't see far enough through the sheets of rain and falling debris from the trees. Storms arrive fast and ferocious here, but are over relatively quickly.
For the second time this month, we've water damage in the back room, and with this storm, damage from water coming in under the front door.
Tomorrow, I'm putting in some remediation pipes. I'm over the neighbour's excess rainwater gushing into the backyard. Sure, according to my weather records February is the wettest month of the year and we probably won't get such a downfall again until this time next year, but climate changes and I'm not entirely confident in the Bureau of Meteorology: they cancelled the severe thunderstorm warning at 5.30 this afternoon - this torrent came two hours later.
What a way to end the Summer...
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Out there
Sometimes, I have nothing to write on the blog, even as I have plenty to say.
I've always thought this by Silvan Engel is appropriate: It is better to be silent, and be thought a fool, than to speak and remove all doubt.
I prefer - mostly - to stay away from the topics of sex, religion and politics; all are personal and all reveal bias, which is why they are taboo topics at a dinner party. Like everyone else, I get bent out of shape with those subjects and I'm unwilling to engage in arguments that descend into rectitude. The topic I refuse to discuss have been the global financial crisis, government debt, climate change, homosexuals in the armed forces, the bestowing of sainthood on Mary McKillop - and the people on the pulpit thundering out their views. Just so you know.
So. Lip: buttoned. And no post for a week.
In the e-mail box today is the latest Writer's Digest. It has some interesting links. Brian Klems at Questions and Quandries informs us of the difference between lay, lie and laid. He also has a nice sidebar list should you need answers to other questions you might have.
How about the do's and don'ts of writing a synopsis? With the global economy still in a slump, writing dollars are hard to come by, so try 5 Ideas for unconventional writing success.
James Plath begins his article on 21 Tips to Get Out of the Slush Pile with some good advice:
During the 16 years that I edited Clockwatch Review, I often found myself wishing that every writer could work as an editor for a year. After all, it's impossible to read 60-plus manuscripts daily and not develop a pretty fair sense of what makes a short story work.
I'm guessing every editor feels the same. Just because you've written a book, doesn't mean it's publishable. The list he presents is excellent.
Writer's Digest, on occasion, has very little I'm interested in; then it hits the jackpot. Go. Read. Inwardly absorb and become the best writer you can be.
I've always thought this by Silvan Engel is appropriate: It is better to be silent, and be thought a fool, than to speak and remove all doubt.
I prefer - mostly - to stay away from the topics of sex, religion and politics; all are personal and all reveal bias, which is why they are taboo topics at a dinner party. Like everyone else, I get bent out of shape with those subjects and I'm unwilling to engage in arguments that descend into rectitude. The topic I refuse to discuss have been the global financial crisis, government debt, climate change, homosexuals in the armed forces, the bestowing of sainthood on Mary McKillop - and the people on the pulpit thundering out their views. Just so you know.
So. Lip: buttoned. And no post for a week.
In the e-mail box today is the latest Writer's Digest. It has some interesting links. Brian Klems at Questions and Quandries informs us of the difference between lay, lie and laid. He also has a nice sidebar list should you need answers to other questions you might have.
How about the do's and don'ts of writing a synopsis? With the global economy still in a slump, writing dollars are hard to come by, so try 5 Ideas for unconventional writing success.
James Plath begins his article on 21 Tips to Get Out of the Slush Pile with some good advice:
During the 16 years that I edited Clockwatch Review, I often found myself wishing that every writer could work as an editor for a year. After all, it's impossible to read 60-plus manuscripts daily and not develop a pretty fair sense of what makes a short story work.
I'm guessing every editor feels the same. Just because you've written a book, doesn't mean it's publishable. The list he presents is excellent.
Writer's Digest, on occasion, has very little I'm interested in; then it hits the jackpot. Go. Read. Inwardly absorb and become the best writer you can be.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
History as fiction
Every week, I take myself off to the local maritime museum to work on their newsletter. It’s part current events and part history – and yeah, okay, I do both.
When I put my historian’s hat on, I spend a lot of time on the National Library of Australia’s newspaper archive site. It. Is. Amazing! - oh, and distracting with the life and times...
I’m currently working on the people who started the shipbuilding industry in the local area, and the NLA’s site, plus the State Records Office, have provided me with lots of information to wallow in.
Obviously, this is not fictional writing here, but wait, there’s a point. Let me tell you a little story:
In 1816, James Dent was sent to Australia, convicted of forging banknotes. Four years later, he was granted a Conditional Pardon – that is, he was allowed to wander the colony, but not leave it. In 1820, he married and in 1824, moved out of the main township of Sydney to the Cooks River where he leased a farm.
His neighbour was one Dr Robert Wardell. Wardell and another lawyer, William Charles Wentworth, started the Australian newspaper and proceeded to criticise the Governor of NSW, General Ralph Darling, for his attempts at running the penal colony as a military camp.
In 1828, two separate incidents happened: James Dent was sent to trial for stealing timber from Dr Wardell’s property (he and two co-conspirators were caught when a constable, charging through the bush after a bushranger, found one cutting timber and tossing it over the fence to Dent’s side.) On the same day, a convict named John Jenkins was sentenced to three years transportation to Newcastle for robbing a fellow inmate.
Move forward in time to 1834. John Jenkins has returned. He and two other men are camped on... Dr Wardell’s land. Dr Wardell sets out to inspect his land and come upon the trio. An altercation takes place and Dr Wardell is shot dead. Jenkins and one other are convicted and sentenced to execution after the youngest member turns informer.
James had nothing to do with the crime. He died in 1837. His wife, Elizabeth, marries twice more before dying in 1858. She is buried at St Peter’s near Cooks River.
A son of James, George, eventually came down to the Huskisson area and began cutting timber for the new shipbuilding industry, and started constructing ships – an industry that lasted until the 1960s.
Now then. One of Australia’s greatest architects was Edmund Blacket. He designed and built a good portion of the cathedrals of NSW, including St Andrew’s at Sydney University. What’s interesting is that in 1875, he refurbished... St Peter’s near Cooks River. His son, Cyril, was also an architect and lived... near Huskisson, designing and building a lot of the houses here, including the local church.
History has a lot of co-incidences that seem incredible.
To me, this story is a metaphor for fiction: Wardell, Darling and Blacket are all listed in the Australian Biographical Dictionary – and rightly so; each man built a little piece of this country and left a legacy still recognised today. They are Literature.
Dent and Jenkins aren’t; they are unknown, forgotten, and yet stamped their own mark on history – they are Pulp Fiction.
The difference between the two groups is that one are written about, known about, are famous for what they did rather than who they are; the second group are no more than items in old newspapers or convict records, but are more interesting because of their connections to fame, because of who they are, more than what they did.
Two disparate groups: Literature filled with accomplishment, stories of conflict and noble triumph or bitter tragedy of ambitious men in building a new land; and clinging to Literature’s lower leg, Pulp Fiction, filled with struggle, action, mistakes, happily-ever-after and a villain brought to account, events repeated throughout colonial history. Common to virtually every convict family who also struggled to build a life for themselves in a new land.
One couldn’t survive without the other. Without Pulp Fiction, Literature has no basis; without Literature, Pulp Fiction has nothing to aspire to.
History is made up of both: the luminaries who came to Australia to ensure its’ success and guide the colony, and the convicts and free settlers, who did the labour and built the structures, who farmed the land, who desired to be free.
As a writer and part-time historian, I’m more fascinated with Pulp Fiction than Literati, because it is Pulp Fiction who move the nation without recognition, who have the gritty, complicated lives that engage the emotions – despite Literature thinking I should read it instead.
When I put my historian’s hat on, I spend a lot of time on the National Library of Australia’s newspaper archive site. It. Is. Amazing! - oh, and distracting with the life and times...
I’m currently working on the people who started the shipbuilding industry in the local area, and the NLA’s site, plus the State Records Office, have provided me with lots of information to wallow in.
Obviously, this is not fictional writing here, but wait, there’s a point. Let me tell you a little story:
In 1816, James Dent was sent to Australia, convicted of forging banknotes. Four years later, he was granted a Conditional Pardon – that is, he was allowed to wander the colony, but not leave it. In 1820, he married and in 1824, moved out of the main township of Sydney to the Cooks River where he leased a farm.
His neighbour was one Dr Robert Wardell. Wardell and another lawyer, William Charles Wentworth, started the Australian newspaper and proceeded to criticise the Governor of NSW, General Ralph Darling, for his attempts at running the penal colony as a military camp.
In 1828, two separate incidents happened: James Dent was sent to trial for stealing timber from Dr Wardell’s property (he and two co-conspirators were caught when a constable, charging through the bush after a bushranger, found one cutting timber and tossing it over the fence to Dent’s side.) On the same day, a convict named John Jenkins was sentenced to three years transportation to Newcastle for robbing a fellow inmate.
Move forward in time to 1834. John Jenkins has returned. He and two other men are camped on... Dr Wardell’s land. Dr Wardell sets out to inspect his land and come upon the trio. An altercation takes place and Dr Wardell is shot dead. Jenkins and one other are convicted and sentenced to execution after the youngest member turns informer.
James had nothing to do with the crime. He died in 1837. His wife, Elizabeth, marries twice more before dying in 1858. She is buried at St Peter’s near Cooks River.
A son of James, George, eventually came down to the Huskisson area and began cutting timber for the new shipbuilding industry, and started constructing ships – an industry that lasted until the 1960s.
Now then. One of Australia’s greatest architects was Edmund Blacket. He designed and built a good portion of the cathedrals of NSW, including St Andrew’s at Sydney University. What’s interesting is that in 1875, he refurbished... St Peter’s near Cooks River. His son, Cyril, was also an architect and lived... near Huskisson, designing and building a lot of the houses here, including the local church.
History has a lot of co-incidences that seem incredible.
To me, this story is a metaphor for fiction: Wardell, Darling and Blacket are all listed in the Australian Biographical Dictionary – and rightly so; each man built a little piece of this country and left a legacy still recognised today. They are Literature.
Dent and Jenkins aren’t; they are unknown, forgotten, and yet stamped their own mark on history – they are Pulp Fiction.
The difference between the two groups is that one are written about, known about, are famous for what they did rather than who they are; the second group are no more than items in old newspapers or convict records, but are more interesting because of their connections to fame, because of who they are, more than what they did.
Two disparate groups: Literature filled with accomplishment, stories of conflict and noble triumph or bitter tragedy of ambitious men in building a new land; and clinging to Literature’s lower leg, Pulp Fiction, filled with struggle, action, mistakes, happily-ever-after and a villain brought to account, events repeated throughout colonial history. Common to virtually every convict family who also struggled to build a life for themselves in a new land.
One couldn’t survive without the other. Without Pulp Fiction, Literature has no basis; without Literature, Pulp Fiction has nothing to aspire to.
History is made up of both: the luminaries who came to Australia to ensure its’ success and guide the colony, and the convicts and free settlers, who did the labour and built the structures, who farmed the land, who desired to be free.
As a writer and part-time historian, I’m more fascinated with Pulp Fiction than Literati, because it is Pulp Fiction who move the nation without recognition, who have the gritty, complicated lives that engage the emotions – despite Literature thinking I should read it instead.
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Book posted
Finally. After problems with converting Spring's Reign to .pdf and then difficulty uploading the sucker, it's posted on Scribd.
Ahh... sweet relief - even if it is raining. Again. I can go off, do a happy dance - or maybe not, the weather gods might think it a rain dance and do something I'll regret.
I think I'll put my feet up and read a book, or the newspaper, or watch a movie or anything I damn-well please until I decide what's next. Actually, I already know. I'm just trying not to think about it yet.
Writing one book, editing four and posting them all within six months is kind of draining, even if the results were... mixed.
Ahh... sweet relief - even if it is raining. Again. I can go off, do a happy dance - or maybe not, the weather gods might think it a rain dance and do something I'll regret.
I think I'll put my feet up and read a book, or the newspaper, or watch a movie or anything I damn-well please until I decide what's next. Actually, I already know. I'm just trying not to think about it yet.
Writing one book, editing four and posting them all within six months is kind of draining, even if the results were... mixed.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Lizard thinking
Printed out a final draft - I'll be reading it tonight and tomorrow for last minute corrections - and went ahead with the cover. Since this is the last of four books, I intended that all cover fonts and pictures match.
Oh... the horror!!! For previous books, I used a different computer, with an art package and fonts. Of course, when I tried to start the damn thing, it pouted, crossed its arms and said 'Nup'. After trying everything, I had to admit defeat.
My own damn fault. I changed to the laptop for convenience and because the desktop was making whiney-ass noises. Now, it won't go at all. I think I killed it; killed it stone-motherless-dead.
I set the desktop aside and did some pouting of my own.
Now, it's hot and humid here, tropical even; just moving around produces sweat - and a lizard.
Lizard?? Yes. A Blue Tongue, in fact. The garden has about five that sneak out of the garage to ambush snails and slugs (although, I don't suppose snails would rear in surprise and make a dash for the tomatoes - funny image though).
Because it's hot, I opened the front door - but not the security screen - and the back door - which doesn't have a security screen - to allow a sea breeze to pass through.
While pouting at the tragedy of a dead computer, I heard a rustle and glanced down. I looked at the Blue Tongue, and it looked at me. Then it made a dash for the couch. Those things are fast.
It took half an hour to remove the beastie back into the garden, but the sudden change in thought processes did the job.
I remembered the handy-dandy font software I bought... mmm... years ago. Sixteen hundred fonts to choose from and import. Oh, frabjous day, calloo-callay!!
Cover's done.
All I need do, is a final run through and the book should be posted on Scribd by the midnight deadline.
Oh... the horror!!! For previous books, I used a different computer, with an art package and fonts. Of course, when I tried to start the damn thing, it pouted, crossed its arms and said 'Nup'. After trying everything, I had to admit defeat.
My own damn fault. I changed to the laptop for convenience and because the desktop was making whiney-ass noises. Now, it won't go at all. I think I killed it; killed it stone-motherless-dead.
I set the desktop aside and did some pouting of my own.
Now, it's hot and humid here, tropical even; just moving around produces sweat - and a lizard.
Lizard?? Yes. A Blue Tongue, in fact. The garden has about five that sneak out of the garage to ambush snails and slugs (although, I don't suppose snails would rear in surprise and make a dash for the tomatoes - funny image though).
Because it's hot, I opened the front door - but not the security screen - and the back door - which doesn't have a security screen - to allow a sea breeze to pass through.
While pouting at the tragedy of a dead computer, I heard a rustle and glanced down. I looked at the Blue Tongue, and it looked at me. Then it made a dash for the couch. Those things are fast.
It took half an hour to remove the beastie back into the garden, but the sudden change in thought processes did the job.
I remembered the handy-dandy font software I bought... mmm... years ago. Sixteen hundred fonts to choose from and import. Oh, frabjous day, calloo-callay!!
Cover's done.
All I need do, is a final run through and the book should be posted on Scribd by the midnight deadline.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Music to edit by
I'm putting in the edits on Spring's Reign. By the weekend, it will be posted and I can turn my attention to something else.
As I put the edits in, I'm listening to some 'old' music. I went through my cd collection - which desperately needs organising - and plucked out stuff I haven't heard in ages.
Ah... not the hippest but these are what I've run through the player:
Shawn Colvin: Steady On
Shawn Colvin: A Few Little Repairs
Aqua: Aquarius
Alan Parsons Project: Turn of a Friendly Card
Fleetwood Mac: Tango in the Night
Mike Oldfield: Voyager
Mike Oldfield: Amarok
The Corrs: Forgiven, not Forgotten
Robbie Williams: Sing When You're Winning
and more modern ones:
Lily Allen: It's Not Me, It's You (The neighbours are probably fed up by now.)
Kelly Clarkson: All I Ever Wanted
Michael Buble: ALL OF THEM!!!
They're getting a bit of a flogging, but I find it relaxing and I can concentrate. So, back to it or I'll miss the deadline.
As I put the edits in, I'm listening to some 'old' music. I went through my cd collection - which desperately needs organising - and plucked out stuff I haven't heard in ages.
Ah... not the hippest but these are what I've run through the player:
Shawn Colvin: Steady On
Shawn Colvin: A Few Little Repairs
Aqua: Aquarius
Alan Parsons Project: Turn of a Friendly Card
Fleetwood Mac: Tango in the Night
Mike Oldfield: Voyager
Mike Oldfield: Amarok
The Corrs: Forgiven, not Forgotten
Robbie Williams: Sing When You're Winning
and more modern ones:
Lily Allen: It's Not Me, It's You (The neighbours are probably fed up by now.)
Kelly Clarkson: All I Ever Wanted
Michael Buble: ALL OF THEM!!!
They're getting a bit of a flogging, but I find it relaxing and I can concentrate. So, back to it or I'll miss the deadline.
Tuesday, February 09, 2010
'sup?
Finally, the rain has ceased for the time being. This morning dawned sunny, right before a sea mist rolled in, a sure indicator of a hot and humid day.
We've had more than twice the monthly average for rainfall and eight days of the stuff out of nine. Everything has that dampness about it that reminds me of England. I'm just about to get someone from Seattle to send me the t-shirt: In Seattle, you don't tan, you rust. Coz, I'm feelin' ya.
I can categorically say: "I am over Summer." I want the coolth of Winter, the bitey mornings and cheek-nipping breezes. I want the scent of burning leaves and mown grass. I want the sun to rise later and set earlier... okay, it's doing that now, but I want it to be obvious. I guess I'll have to be patient.
Edits are on track for Friday - barring any unforeseen screw ups.
Oh, and as for the Super Bowl I watched. Can you say, Cha-ching-ing-ing! Who dat?
We've had more than twice the monthly average for rainfall and eight days of the stuff out of nine. Everything has that dampness about it that reminds me of England. I'm just about to get someone from Seattle to send me the t-shirt: In Seattle, you don't tan, you rust. Coz, I'm feelin' ya.
I can categorically say: "I am over Summer." I want the coolth of Winter, the bitey mornings and cheek-nipping breezes. I want the scent of burning leaves and mown grass. I want the sun to rise later and set earlier... okay, it's doing that now, but I want it to be obvious. I guess I'll have to be patient.
Edits are on track for Friday - barring any unforeseen screw ups.
Oh, and as for the Super Bowl I watched. Can you say, Cha-ching-ing-ing! Who dat?
Monday, February 08, 2010
Fantasy in Death
I love a good locked door mystery and J.D. Robb's Fantasy in Death delivers.
Long time friends Bart, Cill, Var and Benny are on the verge of releasing a state-of-art holo-game. Bart tests the game in the isolation and secured holo-room of his locked apartment and is killed. There are no clues. No weapon, no evidence of an intruder, no witnesses, nothing.
This is the crime super-cop, Lt. Eve Dallas, investigates with a little help from husband, Roarke. His input is more as a consultant and assists Feeney off screen. Eve struggles to understand e-tech, as always, but it is because she doesn't understand the environment that she can think of the unusual solution. I had my own suspects, but didn't truly settle on one until late in the book. Canny readers will pick up on the pivotal moment.
Fans of J.D. Robb will be excused for thinking this book is familiar with a particular scenario in the first of the series, Naked in Death, I know it rang a bell with me - but when you consider the two-year time frame, it's not such a leap.
I would have given the book five stars, except for the laziness of the copy-editor. This English version has unfortunate carriage returns in the middle of sentences, words that need spaces in between and comma issues. There are also problems with 'voice'. At one stage, I couldn't tell who was speaking, Roarke or Eve. Roarke doesn't have the speech patterns from previous books and the concept of 'friendship' is a bit belaboured.
Overall - if you can ignore the copy-edit problems - the story is a great read and fans will be satisfied.
Long time friends Bart, Cill, Var and Benny are on the verge of releasing a state-of-art holo-game. Bart tests the game in the isolation and secured holo-room of his locked apartment and is killed. There are no clues. No weapon, no evidence of an intruder, no witnesses, nothing.
This is the crime super-cop, Lt. Eve Dallas, investigates with a little help from husband, Roarke. His input is more as a consultant and assists Feeney off screen. Eve struggles to understand e-tech, as always, but it is because she doesn't understand the environment that she can think of the unusual solution. I had my own suspects, but didn't truly settle on one until late in the book. Canny readers will pick up on the pivotal moment.
Fans of J.D. Robb will be excused for thinking this book is familiar with a particular scenario in the first of the series, Naked in Death, I know it rang a bell with me - but when you consider the two-year time frame, it's not such a leap.
I would have given the book five stars, except for the laziness of the copy-editor. This English version has unfortunate carriage returns in the middle of sentences, words that need spaces in between and comma issues. There are also problems with 'voice'. At one stage, I couldn't tell who was speaking, Roarke or Eve. Roarke doesn't have the speech patterns from previous books and the concept of 'friendship' is a bit belaboured.
Overall - if you can ignore the copy-edit problems - the story is a great read and fans will be satisfied.
Friday, February 05, 2010
Rain, rain, and more bloody rain
The last twenty four hours we've had buckets of rain, 100mm in twelve hours. Not much sleep since I had to check the back drains at midnight, 3.00 and again at 6.00.
The house is set on flat ground, with the rainwater run off coming through the backyard since builders behind us changed the natural watercourse some years ago. It's been eight or nine years since so much rain fell in a short time.
October I was out checking the drains, but the rain eased mid-evening.
The humidity is still high and we have a severe weather warning for the rest of the day. Sigh.
I'm hoping my beans and brussel sprouts survive - I only planted them at lunchtime yesterday, before the bucketing. The veggie patch is looking waterlogged.
On the editing front, I have about three chapters to do in this draft. I'll set it aside for a day or so and let it simmer... Okay, fine I have J.D. Robb's Fantasy in Death waiting. From all reports, it's an absolute cracker. Work first, then play. Which means, weather warning or not, I need to get back to the editing so I can have my reward.
The house is set on flat ground, with the rainwater run off coming through the backyard since builders behind us changed the natural watercourse some years ago. It's been eight or nine years since so much rain fell in a short time.
October I was out checking the drains, but the rain eased mid-evening.
The humidity is still high and we have a severe weather warning for the rest of the day. Sigh.
I'm hoping my beans and brussel sprouts survive - I only planted them at lunchtime yesterday, before the bucketing. The veggie patch is looking waterlogged.
On the editing front, I have about three chapters to do in this draft. I'll set it aside for a day or so and let it simmer... Okay, fine I have J.D. Robb's Fantasy in Death waiting. From all reports, it's an absolute cracker. Work first, then play. Which means, weather warning or not, I need to get back to the editing so I can have my reward.
Tuesday, February 02, 2010
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Wallowing
Nah, no work today. It's raining, a day for lazing on the couch and watching DVDs.
So: Terminator Salvation - DVD has an impurity, so I watched maybe half and it froze. No amount of cleaning or change of player would get it going again.
Four Brothers, with Mark Wahlberg. Not bad, but why do script writers have to televise who's going to die? I mean Star Trek has the red shirts, war movies have 'I'm short', or 'let me show you a picture of my girlfriend'?
The Italian Job, I love this movie, so slick and polished and so damned clever. It made me think about other scenarios I could use in writing.
Ice Age 3: Age of the Dinosaurs, What's not to like about animated comedies for kids? I'm gonna get me a copy.
A day off from outside influences, or from my own work is great and I'm trying not to feel guilty. I have the manuscript separated into chapters next me, I probably should have put it somewhere else; but it's ready for tomorrow.
Meanwhile, I think I'll watch Appleseed - the CGI version. I need some more wallow time.
So: Terminator Salvation - DVD has an impurity, so I watched maybe half and it froze. No amount of cleaning or change of player would get it going again.
Four Brothers, with Mark Wahlberg. Not bad, but why do script writers have to televise who's going to die? I mean Star Trek has the red shirts, war movies have 'I'm short', or 'let me show you a picture of my girlfriend'?
The Italian Job, I love this movie, so slick and polished and so damned clever. It made me think about other scenarios I could use in writing.
Ice Age 3: Age of the Dinosaurs, What's not to like about animated comedies for kids? I'm gonna get me a copy.
A day off from outside influences, or from my own work is great and I'm trying not to feel guilty. I have the manuscript separated into chapters next me, I probably should have put it somewhere else; but it's ready for tomorrow.
Meanwhile, I think I'll watch Appleseed - the CGI version. I need some more wallow time.
Friday, January 29, 2010
Missing the Plot
Finally finished the ..th draft of Spring's Reign. Now I can break it down into chapters and sort out the plot line I missed - this is what happens when you don't plan a novel; you get to do more work after you've written the first draft.
How do you miss a plot line? I mean, really? A plot line? Left out? It's actually easy. You get so caught up in the now of the story, in the information to progress the story, you sometimes forget to put in a break; something to interrupt the flow and shake the characters out of their... well, not comfortable situation, but to present the information in a different way, a more active way.
And when you're writing romance, a way to throw the characters closer together. And the missing plot line will do just that.
The draft reads fine as it is now, but in that reading, I felt there was something missing; now I know what it is. Action doesn't have to be biffo, it can be verbal; for my characters, however, travelling thousands of miles together in close confinement, something outside that atmosphere has to happen. And so it will.
Hopefully, it won't affect the direction of the manuscript; that would be... bad.
At this stage, I've added nearly thirty pages, or about ten thousand words. With the added plot line, the word count might lift by another ten to twenty thousand, bringing the book to between 90-100,000. A nice size for the final in the series.
How do you miss a plot line? I mean, really? A plot line? Left out? It's actually easy. You get so caught up in the now of the story, in the information to progress the story, you sometimes forget to put in a break; something to interrupt the flow and shake the characters out of their... well, not comfortable situation, but to present the information in a different way, a more active way.
And when you're writing romance, a way to throw the characters closer together. And the missing plot line will do just that.
The draft reads fine as it is now, but in that reading, I felt there was something missing; now I know what it is. Action doesn't have to be biffo, it can be verbal; for my characters, however, travelling thousands of miles together in close confinement, something outside that atmosphere has to happen. And so it will.
Hopefully, it won't affect the direction of the manuscript; that would be... bad.
At this stage, I've added nearly thirty pages, or about ten thousand words. With the added plot line, the word count might lift by another ten to twenty thousand, bringing the book to between 90-100,000. A nice size for the final in the series.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Aussie Day
Whoo-hoo! Australia Day! So I worked on the manuscript this morning and then big sis turned up with Lamington cupcakes, home made bread, Dijon mustard and franks for hot dogs. Not exactly Aussie fare (she picked up a pork pie for the maternal influencer - her being British and all) but we were actually sitting down to watch a replay of the American Football match between Indianapolis and New York.
Sadly, we were going for the Jets.
I did get to watch the Vikings/Saints match live yesterday, and wow, what a game! Might have to watch the reply of that one on Saturday.
Yes, I know it's Australia's day, but we had the lamoes and I did watch the cricket. And this is a multicultural country full of wonder cuisines and cultures that blend well with our own and make this country... great. So the Italian Pasta tonight with the American Football today isn't odd, just all part of the scenery.
I'm not one for the beach or the sun given the basal cell carcinoma removal from under my eye a couple of years ago - the sun is not my friend any more. The best I can do is watch vicariously via the teev. To wit, the above picture of the Great Sydney Ferry Race. Buckets of small boats and tall ships on the Harbour to watch.
It matters not who wins, but the sheer enjoyment of being on the water.
Now, I'm back at the desk, beavering away. I've spotted at least one plot that's missing and I'll have to go back and put it in once I'm done with this draft. It will make the book larger, but by the end of this draft, it will have more pages than the other three. There'll be other stuff I've missed, too, and the notes are growing.
I have to get back to it. Tonight, there will be fireworks and bubbly and I fully expect to become 'tired and emotional' since the parent doesn't drink much...
What? I can't let a bottle of bubbly go to waste, now can I?
Monday, January 25, 2010
Bad torrent
Jeez, I'm a lazy snot, but in my defence, I have been a wee bit busy to update the blog.
My mother once told me I analyse stuff to death - then analyse why it died. Which is pretty much true. In the interests of upholding the vice, I'm being nagged by the success of Winter's Heart over on the Scribd page.
And yeah, I've mentioned it before and it's still nagging. The book has enjoyed a recent spike in readings and I'm at a loss to work out why, since the prequel and sequel aren't doing much at all.
There's a big gap, however, in reading and downloads, so all I can do is speculate that peeps are reading all or a part on-line and not keeping a copy.
I also know that the books are listed on other torrent sites (places with fast downloads) - along with other author's works that I doubt they know about.
This is going to be a major problem for the publishing industry. For free works, no big; for just released in the book store, yeah, it's big. I imagine some of the people are either typing or scanning in books to post free, and I did see a Nora Roberts book freely available less than a week after it came out in the stores.
Add to that an argument I saw last year on Amazon where a poster was offering a book - can't remember whose - free to anyone who e-mailed him. His position was that, since he'd paid for it, he could do whatever he wanted with it. Others rightly said he was infringing copyright. The poster resentfully stuck to his position, ignoring the suggestion that if books were constantly being bought and offered free, there was no financial incentive for authors to continue writing. Eventually, the poster disappeared - no doubt to a torrent site.
How does an author protect their work in this age of electronic sophistication? How much money would it take to shut down the torrent networks?
One suggestion could be to halt traditional book publishing and encode e-books with a limited use security code. If people want an actual book, print-on-demand companies could print up the book, say, a year after the e-book came out - like the hardback/paperback system.
The downside would be the death of bookstores; they'd have to move from the traditional market to an ordering market - and how successful would that be?
As a new writer who hopes to be published one day, the future actually looks more bleak and scary than ever. I can post a book to Scribd or any of the other e-book sites, have six thousand reads, and not make a red cent for it. If I put it up for sale, the future will be six thousand reads and still not make much money because it's listed for free somewhere else.
I think, for now, I'll ignore what's going on and keep trying for the sensual feel of my first traditionally published book in my hands. It's a dream.
My mother once told me I analyse stuff to death - then analyse why it died. Which is pretty much true. In the interests of upholding the vice, I'm being nagged by the success of Winter's Heart over on the Scribd page.
And yeah, I've mentioned it before and it's still nagging. The book has enjoyed a recent spike in readings and I'm at a loss to work out why, since the prequel and sequel aren't doing much at all.
There's a big gap, however, in reading and downloads, so all I can do is speculate that peeps are reading all or a part on-line and not keeping a copy.
I also know that the books are listed on other torrent sites (places with fast downloads) - along with other author's works that I doubt they know about.
This is going to be a major problem for the publishing industry. For free works, no big; for just released in the book store, yeah, it's big. I imagine some of the people are either typing or scanning in books to post free, and I did see a Nora Roberts book freely available less than a week after it came out in the stores.
Add to that an argument I saw last year on Amazon where a poster was offering a book - can't remember whose - free to anyone who e-mailed him. His position was that, since he'd paid for it, he could do whatever he wanted with it. Others rightly said he was infringing copyright. The poster resentfully stuck to his position, ignoring the suggestion that if books were constantly being bought and offered free, there was no financial incentive for authors to continue writing. Eventually, the poster disappeared - no doubt to a torrent site.
How does an author protect their work in this age of electronic sophistication? How much money would it take to shut down the torrent networks?
One suggestion could be to halt traditional book publishing and encode e-books with a limited use security code. If people want an actual book, print-on-demand companies could print up the book, say, a year after the e-book came out - like the hardback/paperback system.
The downside would be the death of bookstores; they'd have to move from the traditional market to an ordering market - and how successful would that be?
As a new writer who hopes to be published one day, the future actually looks more bleak and scary than ever. I can post a book to Scribd or any of the other e-book sites, have six thousand reads, and not make a red cent for it. If I put it up for sale, the future will be six thousand reads and still not make much money because it's listed for free somewhere else.
I think, for now, I'll ignore what's going on and keep trying for the sensual feel of my first traditionally published book in my hands. It's a dream.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Timing and research
I'm into the second draft. Joy. And it's all about timing. The timeline. Oh, and maps, roads, rivers, cuisine, hotels - a right little tourist guide to Brazil. sigh It seemed like a good idea at the time...
Fortunately, there aren't too many Post-It notes scattering the manuscript. I figure they'll come in the next draft when I break down the chapters.
I also figure I have two, maybe three, weeks before peeps start asking me where the book is - but no pressure.
I must be doing something right, though, because it seems like every time I turn the teev on, there's something about the Amazon. I've learned an awful lot of stuff - some I knew already, but a lot of it new - like the Amazon being the size of Australia! Survivorman and Bushcraft with Ray Meares have been invaluable, as has Wikipedia and other research sites. (I'm currently feeling too lazy to put it links.)
GoogleEarth is terrific. I can see where the jungle is and the roads and rivers that carve through the territory. It's an impressive place and while I'd like to say it's on my Bucket List... it's not. I'm not a fan of hot, humid places that have icky things like massive social spider webs. Squicks me out on a major scale - even writing about it gave me the heebie-jeebies - and I still have to do a little bit more research on them. (Insert shudder here.)
So... if all goes well, Spring's Reign will be up on Scribd by the 13th February. I still have some real life issues to deal with that may get in the way, but I'm working towards the date as a goal. Following that, then I'll get to the rest of the promised works.
It's good to be busy; now I need to insert some Brazilian cuisine into the book.
Fortunately, there aren't too many Post-It notes scattering the manuscript. I figure they'll come in the next draft when I break down the chapters.
I also figure I have two, maybe three, weeks before peeps start asking me where the book is - but no pressure.
I must be doing something right, though, because it seems like every time I turn the teev on, there's something about the Amazon. I've learned an awful lot of stuff - some I knew already, but a lot of it new - like the Amazon being the size of Australia! Survivorman and Bushcraft with Ray Meares have been invaluable, as has Wikipedia and other research sites. (I'm currently feeling too lazy to put it links.)
GoogleEarth is terrific. I can see where the jungle is and the roads and rivers that carve through the territory. It's an impressive place and while I'd like to say it's on my Bucket List... it's not. I'm not a fan of hot, humid places that have icky things like massive social spider webs. Squicks me out on a major scale - even writing about it gave me the heebie-jeebies - and I still have to do a little bit more research on them. (Insert shudder here.)
So... if all goes well, Spring's Reign will be up on Scribd by the 13th February. I still have some real life issues to deal with that may get in the way, but I'm working towards the date as a goal. Following that, then I'll get to the rest of the promised works.
It's good to be busy; now I need to insert some Brazilian cuisine into the book.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Wisdom of ages
Here it is, the middle of January, and the overnight temperature dropped to a few degrees above zero.
Plenty of family time this past weekend, like the weekend before. We live less than a hundred metres from the beach so in Summer, peeps come for the sun. More rellos are popping up this weekend too.
Plus I've been busily editing... it's all go...
But, I've been watching a program called Elders. The introduction says it all:
"We live in a society that worships youth. On television, in magazines, in advertisements and on billboards, what sells and what is sold to us is youth. But in some cultures it is the elders of the community who are valued and whose wisdom is sought. In this series we are going to seek out six prominent elders of our tribe, each over the age of 65 to see what life has taught them. Welcome to the elders."
We've heard from Alan Alda, Sir David Attenborough and Bob Hawke (didn't watch that one - I don't like him at all).
Last night, Andrew Denton spoke with the incomparable Helen Thomas. What a fascinating woman.
A lot of people outside of the U.S. probably don't know who she is, but would probably remember the old lady, hunched over, in the front row of White House Press Briefings, grilling whoever is at the podium.
It's sometimes magical to watch. Helen will ask the same question, in ten different ways; and be given the same answer... in ten different ways. What is astonishing is the respect and accord given to Ms Thomas. I've never heard a speaker treat her with impatience or condescension - even as some commentators do.
At age 89, she's still working, still as wily as a fox and still asking the awkward questions. Ms Thomas is a journalists journalist - and age has not wearied her. What she says in the interview is sometimes pointed:
ANDREW DENTON: The old saying that that power corrupts absolute power corrupts absolutely. Do you believe that’s true?
HELEN THOMAS: Yeah. I think it can. I’ve seen people men go into the Oval Office with some trepidation. In a couple of days they think they’re President and they think that’s all powerful and people worship at their shrine and every wish is a command, no yeah I think very corrupting.
ANDREW DENTON: Who have you seen most changed by that office?
HELEN THOMAS: This man. I think he thinks he’s President and he’s led us into a very b-big quagmire morass.
It was an excellent interview and I wanted to hear more. Half an hour isn't nearly long enough to listen to all the fascinating things that happen in our eminent seniors' lives. Maybe if more young people paid attention to the older generations, things would be much more happier, if not livelier.
So next week, we get to hear from Dame Elisabeth Murdoch. Rupie's mum. He's 78; Elisabeth is 100. Should be interesting.
Plenty of family time this past weekend, like the weekend before. We live less than a hundred metres from the beach so in Summer, peeps come for the sun. More rellos are popping up this weekend too.
Plus I've been busily editing... it's all go...
But, I've been watching a program called Elders. The introduction says it all:
"We live in a society that worships youth. On television, in magazines, in advertisements and on billboards, what sells and what is sold to us is youth. But in some cultures it is the elders of the community who are valued and whose wisdom is sought. In this series we are going to seek out six prominent elders of our tribe, each over the age of 65 to see what life has taught them. Welcome to the elders."
We've heard from Alan Alda, Sir David Attenborough and Bob Hawke (didn't watch that one - I don't like him at all).
Last night, Andrew Denton spoke with the incomparable Helen Thomas. What a fascinating woman.
A lot of people outside of the U.S. probably don't know who she is, but would probably remember the old lady, hunched over, in the front row of White House Press Briefings, grilling whoever is at the podium.
It's sometimes magical to watch. Helen will ask the same question, in ten different ways; and be given the same answer... in ten different ways. What is astonishing is the respect and accord given to Ms Thomas. I've never heard a speaker treat her with impatience or condescension - even as some commentators do.
At age 89, she's still working, still as wily as a fox and still asking the awkward questions. Ms Thomas is a journalists journalist - and age has not wearied her. What she says in the interview is sometimes pointed:
ANDREW DENTON: The old saying that that power corrupts absolute power corrupts absolutely. Do you believe that’s true?
HELEN THOMAS: Yeah. I think it can. I’ve seen people men go into the Oval Office with some trepidation. In a couple of days they think they’re President and they think that’s all powerful and people worship at their shrine and every wish is a command, no yeah I think very corrupting.
ANDREW DENTON: Who have you seen most changed by that office?
HELEN THOMAS: This man. I think he thinks he’s President and he’s led us into a very b-big quagmire morass.
It was an excellent interview and I wanted to hear more. Half an hour isn't nearly long enough to listen to all the fascinating things that happen in our eminent seniors' lives. Maybe if more young people paid attention to the older generations, things would be much more happier, if not livelier.
So next week, we get to hear from Dame Elisabeth Murdoch. Rupie's mum. He's 78; Elisabeth is 100. Should be interesting.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
A great idea!
So where do ideas come from? What makes one thought more special than another? How do authors take that one blip and turn it into a best seller?
Short answer: dunno.
Long answer: every author has a different way of going about the craft of generating ideas. There are ideas everywhere - and I should point out here and now that there is no copyright on ideas - from a sleeper's dreams to the overheard conversation to watching a bird take flight to the shopping mall, anything can generate the first kernel of a story.
That well of 'what if' never runs dry because we are surrounded by stimulus all the time.
It's true that writing is ten percent inspiration and ninety percent perspiration. Writing is hard work. Sitting for hours at a time, focusing on 'what happens next', is no easy task. The imagination is running off in particular directions - sometimes to a point you didn't expect, sometimes into a brick wall and sometimes it just works.
Writers are observers as much as participants in the world, we just view it a little bit differently. We look for motives, we look for action, for romance, for tragedy and redemption. We hear conversations from imaginary people, demands from villains who aren't there, confessions, plots, plans from thin air. We see fantastic landscapes, architecture, vehicles, weapons. We feel the pain of betrayal, the joy of discovery, the exhaustion of escape and passion of that first kiss; and all of it based in real life and all of it twisted and shaped and bent to our will into something new and lasting.
But no-one can write the story but the individual author. Writers can have the same idea, but the story will be different: C.S. Forester - Alexander Kent - David Weber; all stories based on Nelson, all different. Stephanie Meyer - Maggie Shayne - Charlaine Harris; all stories about vampires and all different. J.R.R Tolkien - Terry Brooks - Robert Jordan; all epic fantasy and all different.
In each case, the authors had similar ideas but wrote individual stories. And while cynics profess that there is 'nothing new under the sun', I propose they are wrong. Each idea is developed differently and into a new creation.
As for turning an idea into a best seller, well, it's timing, it's work and it's sheer, bloody-minded luck. It's up to the author.
Write something; write it now. Take the idea from the conversation you overheard in the post office, newsagent, bus, train or wherever and turn it into something lasting. No one has to see it, but it would be a shame for that idea to be lost. Who knows? That piece of work might be the next Big Thing.
Short answer: dunno.
Long answer: every author has a different way of going about the craft of generating ideas. There are ideas everywhere - and I should point out here and now that there is no copyright on ideas - from a sleeper's dreams to the overheard conversation to watching a bird take flight to the shopping mall, anything can generate the first kernel of a story.
That well of 'what if' never runs dry because we are surrounded by stimulus all the time.
It's true that writing is ten percent inspiration and ninety percent perspiration. Writing is hard work. Sitting for hours at a time, focusing on 'what happens next', is no easy task. The imagination is running off in particular directions - sometimes to a point you didn't expect, sometimes into a brick wall and sometimes it just works.
Writers are observers as much as participants in the world, we just view it a little bit differently. We look for motives, we look for action, for romance, for tragedy and redemption. We hear conversations from imaginary people, demands from villains who aren't there, confessions, plots, plans from thin air. We see fantastic landscapes, architecture, vehicles, weapons. We feel the pain of betrayal, the joy of discovery, the exhaustion of escape and passion of that first kiss; and all of it based in real life and all of it twisted and shaped and bent to our will into something new and lasting.
But no-one can write the story but the individual author. Writers can have the same idea, but the story will be different: C.S. Forester - Alexander Kent - David Weber; all stories based on Nelson, all different. Stephanie Meyer - Maggie Shayne - Charlaine Harris; all stories about vampires and all different. J.R.R Tolkien - Terry Brooks - Robert Jordan; all epic fantasy and all different.
In each case, the authors had similar ideas but wrote individual stories. And while cynics profess that there is 'nothing new under the sun', I propose they are wrong. Each idea is developed differently and into a new creation.
As for turning an idea into a best seller, well, it's timing, it's work and it's sheer, bloody-minded luck. It's up to the author.
Write something; write it now. Take the idea from the conversation you overheard in the post office, newsagent, bus, train or wherever and turn it into something lasting. No one has to see it, but it would be a shame for that idea to be lost. Who knows? That piece of work might be the next Big Thing.
Monday, January 11, 2010
Really, Reilly?
I've been busy over the past week with family issues and family visits; one was fun - the other, was not.
Anyway, in between the worrying and the entertainment I've been reading one of Australia's favourite writers, Matthew Reilly. I've read Ice Station, Area 7, Temple and now I'm up to Contest. His latest book, The Five Greatest Warriors made it to the top of the 2009 bestseller list. That is, it was the top seller for 2009, out selling the likes of Bryce Courtney, Tim Winton and Di Morrissey.
Contest is Reilly's first book to write, but it will be the last one I read.
Reilly's books are roller-coasters of action and adventure, of quests and rescue, of derring-do and fantastical stunts - in fact, I kept hearing the James Bond theme while reading.
It's the inconsistencies that pissed me off. Using Methadone instead of Morphine, a Maghook with amazing capabilities, anatomy that doesn't seem affected by gravity, conversations that no-one but Superman could hear and give a reply, plus more villains tossed in than you can shake a whippy stick at.
But he does the right thing in having cliff-hangers at the end of chapters, characters that seem larger than life, atypical villains, resolutions that are, like, wow! The Abrahams tank falling from the airplane was just gobsmacking. In a lot of places you can see which movie they came from, for example.
These books are terrific for the young adult - if you move passed the bad language - but for those who've read Tom Clancy, Robert Ludlum, Wilbur Smith, or other adventure books, the plot problems leap out and should have been fixed.
I know Elroy said, "I just cut out the boring bits" when he writes, but sometimes, those boring bits serve a purpose if only to get the author to think about whether something is possible or not.
As escapist fiction, they're a sugar rush - if you ignore the impossibilities - but if you like your work with more realism, give them a miss, or give them to the teenagers of the family - it's virtually guarranteed they will love them.
Anyway, in between the worrying and the entertainment I've been reading one of Australia's favourite writers, Matthew Reilly. I've read Ice Station, Area 7, Temple and now I'm up to Contest. His latest book, The Five Greatest Warriors made it to the top of the 2009 bestseller list. That is, it was the top seller for 2009, out selling the likes of Bryce Courtney, Tim Winton and Di Morrissey.
Contest is Reilly's first book to write, but it will be the last one I read.
Reilly's books are roller-coasters of action and adventure, of quests and rescue, of derring-do and fantastical stunts - in fact, I kept hearing the James Bond theme while reading.
It's the inconsistencies that pissed me off. Using Methadone instead of Morphine, a Maghook with amazing capabilities, anatomy that doesn't seem affected by gravity, conversations that no-one but Superman could hear and give a reply, plus more villains tossed in than you can shake a whippy stick at.
But he does the right thing in having cliff-hangers at the end of chapters, characters that seem larger than life, atypical villains, resolutions that are, like, wow! The Abrahams tank falling from the airplane was just gobsmacking. In a lot of places you can see which movie they came from, for example.
These books are terrific for the young adult - if you move passed the bad language - but for those who've read Tom Clancy, Robert Ludlum, Wilbur Smith, or other adventure books, the plot problems leap out and should have been fixed.
I know Elroy said, "I just cut out the boring bits" when he writes, but sometimes, those boring bits serve a purpose if only to get the author to think about whether something is possible or not.
As escapist fiction, they're a sugar rush - if you ignore the impossibilities - but if you like your work with more realism, give them a miss, or give them to the teenagers of the family - it's virtually guarranteed they will love them.
Tuesday, January 05, 2010
Boobs to Noobs
It's that time of year when the Darwin Awards are announced.
The Darwin Awards "Honors those who improve the species... by accidentally removing themselves from it!"
Two winners this year, both Belgian and both burglars who used too much dynamite to blow up a safe. They did, in fact, demolish the building, too.
With sixteen nominees, 2009 proved to be a year of monumental stupidity. Fortunately, these people have evacuated the gene pool on their own.
* * *
The Macquarie Dictionary has opened voting on the 'word of the year 2009'.
Words like 'noob', 'hypermile', 'cocooning', 'slacktivism', 'climate change denier', 'tweet' are all in the running for word of the year.
The inaugural winners in 2006 are:
General Interest: affluenza
Colloquialism: muffin top
Specialist terms: administrivia
The Political Scene: plausible deniability
Eating and Drinking: ethical eating
Fashion: ubersexual
Travel: envirotourism
Technology: cyberstalking
The Environment: water trading
Sport: blood doping
Health: norovirus
From 2007, the People's Choices:
Business: infomania
Carbon Terms: carbon footprint
Colloquialisms: floordrobe
Eating and Drinking: tart fuel
The Environment: food mile
Fashion: arse antlers
General Interest: password fatigue
Health: incidental exercise
Media: fauxtography
Music: nerdcore
Online: cyber cheating
Politics: Great Firewall of China
Social Scene: slummy mummy
Specialist Terms: facial mapping
Sport: cyberathlete
Technology: bloatware
And 2008:
Entertainment: car crash TV
Business: toxic debt
Colloquial: bromance
Communications: textaholic
Ecology: ecocentrism
Environment: guerilla gardener
Fashion: scene kid
Eating and Drinking: guerilla dining
General Interest: nomophobia
Genetics: divorce gene
Health: baby brain
Internet: lolcat
Law: lawfare
Politics: climate porn
Social Interest: helicopter parenting
Specialist: audiation
Sport: chicken-wing tackle
Technology: uberveillance
Tourism: flashpacker
I know English is a dynamic language, forever changing within generations, but are these words from previous year still with us, hanging around like a toxic debt or have they vanished like the debate on climate change?
The Darwin Awards "Honors those who improve the species... by accidentally removing themselves from it!"
Two winners this year, both Belgian and both burglars who used too much dynamite to blow up a safe. They did, in fact, demolish the building, too.
With sixteen nominees, 2009 proved to be a year of monumental stupidity. Fortunately, these people have evacuated the gene pool on their own.
* * *
The Macquarie Dictionary has opened voting on the 'word of the year 2009'.
Words like 'noob', 'hypermile', 'cocooning', 'slacktivism', 'climate change denier', 'tweet' are all in the running for word of the year.
The inaugural winners in 2006 are:
General Interest: affluenza
Colloquialism: muffin top
Specialist terms: administrivia
The Political Scene: plausible deniability
Eating and Drinking: ethical eating
Fashion: ubersexual
Travel: envirotourism
Technology: cyberstalking
The Environment: water trading
Sport: blood doping
Health: norovirus
From 2007, the People's Choices:
Business: infomania
Carbon Terms: carbon footprint
Colloquialisms: floordrobe
Eating and Drinking: tart fuel
The Environment: food mile
Fashion: arse antlers
General Interest: password fatigue
Health: incidental exercise
Media: fauxtography
Music: nerdcore
Online: cyber cheating
Politics: Great Firewall of China
Social Scene: slummy mummy
Specialist Terms: facial mapping
Sport: cyberathlete
Technology: bloatware
And 2008:
Entertainment: car crash TV
Business: toxic debt
Colloquial: bromance
Communications: textaholic
Ecology: ecocentrism
Environment: guerilla gardener
Fashion: scene kid
Eating and Drinking: guerilla dining
General Interest: nomophobia
Genetics: divorce gene
Health: baby brain
Internet: lolcat
Law: lawfare
Politics: climate porn
Social Interest: helicopter parenting
Specialist: audiation
Sport: chicken-wing tackle
Technology: uberveillance
Tourism: flashpacker
I know English is a dynamic language, forever changing within generations, but are these words from previous year still with us, hanging around like a toxic debt or have they vanished like the debate on climate change?
Sunday, January 03, 2010
And so...
...the time off I set for myself comes to an end - and it's been great. There's still plenty of American Football to see yet, but I shall endeavour to drag myself away and get back to work.
Tomorrow, I will return to manuscripts and red pens, attempting to beat the aforementioned works into submission and some sort of readability.
The thing about writing and editing is that it's initially a solitary event - and that is the key to all writing. You really do have to do the work. No one else can write it nor should they do the first edits. You know what you want to write. And in the editing process, clearing up any vagueness or misunderstandings is what the editing process is for.
A bug-bear of mine is authors justifying what they've written. If a reader doesn't understand something, it should have been explained in the writing, not after it's published. If you do it right in the first place, you don't need to justify anything.
A particular writer - who shall remain nameless - is forever justifying the work, explaining the deviations, and when the questions continue, condemns readers and critics for not understanding. A failing of epic proportions.
And having said that, I have no doubt that the above will come back to bite me. But then, I'm not writing a series that should have died years ago.
I can only hope my trilogies don't suffer the same way. I'd like to think not since I write all three in one go. I've probably said enough...
Oh... look... there's football on the teev...
Tomorrow, I will return to manuscripts and red pens, attempting to beat the aforementioned works into submission and some sort of readability.
The thing about writing and editing is that it's initially a solitary event - and that is the key to all writing. You really do have to do the work. No one else can write it nor should they do the first edits. You know what you want to write. And in the editing process, clearing up any vagueness or misunderstandings is what the editing process is for.
A bug-bear of mine is authors justifying what they've written. If a reader doesn't understand something, it should have been explained in the writing, not after it's published. If you do it right in the first place, you don't need to justify anything.
A particular writer - who shall remain nameless - is forever justifying the work, explaining the deviations, and when the questions continue, condemns readers and critics for not understanding. A failing of epic proportions.
And having said that, I have no doubt that the above will come back to bite me. But then, I'm not writing a series that should have died years ago.
I can only hope my trilogies don't suffer the same way. I'd like to think not since I write all three in one go. I've probably said enough...
Oh... look... there's football on the teev...
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