Woo hoo, I’ve got another sale! Details to follow, but for now, thanks to my readers for suggestions and advice. You helped hammer my story into evidently saleable shape.
Writing
Writing about writing.
Public Writing Program
Hey look, my name’s in the newspaper again:
Creative writing program another way for library to reach out to community (Westman Journal)
Copyright and Theft
Read Time to Fix Canada’s Copyright Mistake on Medium.
It’s a tricky topic, and I’m by no means expert in it, though I like to think I’m a decently-well-read enthusiast. I’ve actually had my stuff “appropriated” for educational purposes (one day I’ll have to write a longer post about it, but for now here’s the Coles Notes version, sans the angst and irritation I felt at the time).
My day job, which supports my writing habit, is at a university, and so I know the appeal of not paying for things, since budgets are traditionally tight, even under the most small‑l liberal of governments.
Canada does indeed need to address its copyright issues.
Opening line
Opening line for a new 850-word flash fiction piece:
Alice, staring up at the rippling green sky, said, “Make a wish.”
Definitions
For a scene in my current work in progress, I wanted to know what the proper term is for the skullcap worn by bishops in the Catholic Church. So I Googled archbishop skullcap, as you do.
The word is zucchetto. It comes from the Italian for … Pumpkin. (Because, apparently, the little caps—worn to keep the bishops’ heads warm—reminded people of pumpkins cut in half.)
I ended up going with “archbishop’s skullcap” in the manuscript.
Prairie Comics Festival
I went today to the Prairie Comics Festival. Reconnected with some writer friends (Chadwick, Sam, and Jamie), made some new connections (hi, Donovan), and regretted not bringing along my business cards (at least three people asked about WordPress stuff).
But I picked up a bunch of local art, so at least there’s that.
- Mini Book of Monster Girls by Autumn Crossman
- Eggman Colouring Book #1 by Gabrielle Ng
- How to be Human by Kathleen Bergen
- Street Style Samurai by Jamie Isfeld
- Those Who Make Us with short stories by Chadwick Ginther and Corey Redekop, among others
- Winterpeg by Matthew Dyck
- Spacepig Hamadeus by Donovan Yaciuk
- The Rangeroads by Courtney Loberg
I look forward to a lot of reading.
Story Generator
The page bills itself as The Best Story Idea Generator You’ll Ever Find, and when it dispenses gems like this:
Have your character attend a themed costume party where they can’t find the person that invited them, they know nobody else, and the people they meet are alternately hostile and friendly. What is the strange theme of the costumes, and does your character stay or run after a disaster happens?
…it’s hard to call that an exaggeration.
Header image courtesy Unsplash.
Indescribable
A couple years ago, I had an epiphany while reading Gene Wolfe’s The Book of the New Sun, when the narrator Severian pointed out that
It is always a temptation to say that such feelings are indescribable, though they seldom are.
Today, though… Today I was finishing Wolfe’s superb 1988 novel There Are Doors, and I happened upon this on page 294:
Which is it, Mr. Wolfe? Which is it?
I must admit, though, it’s nice that, immediately after he calls the sound indescribable, he proceeds to describe it with delightful economy. Wolfe may be fond of unreliable narrators, but his prose is reliably amazing.
Share-Alike
From the ever-fattening file folder titled “Places I Never Expected My Writing to Turn Up”:
- An English-language quiz on a Taiwanese website.
- A village (parish? church?) newsletter.
- (Unattributed) on a charter school website.
Most of this is kosher, per the Creative Commons license that the stories were published under.
Memories of JJ, 1 — Ketchup
We went to McDonald’s every time we were in the city. Dad didn’t like the food, but we kids all did. So he would sigh and pull in to the parking lot and we’d all cheer from the back seat.
The ketchup packets had just about enough in them for an order of fries. If you really squeezed it out, you could make do with a single packet. Two packets had way too much. Waste not, want not. So I got pretty good at squeezing every last molecule of ketchup onto my fries.
On one visit to the Golden Arches, I rolled the ketchup packet, starting carefully from one end, making sure every last drop went onto a fry. Finished, I discarded the tightly-wound tube on the side of the tray. Dad, who had been watching me without my really noticing, sighed and said, “And yet you can’t do that with the toothpaste.”
I’m in my forties now and I still think of this every time I’m getting to the end of a toothpaste tube. (Or a ketchup packet.)
My dad passed away recently. I’m going to be posting little memories of him for the next little while. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.