Gosh, I have a blog!

I really should come by here more often. ;)

Life's going well--my summer classes will be coming to an end soonish, and I have a job prospect, provided things work out. Exciting stuff!

I've been really enjoying my literature class. The book we're using is very interesting, and I keep dipping into it and reading little sections. (It's easier than starting and finishing a book, unfortunately.) My favorite thing lately was a comparison of two versions of the same story. It was fascinating to see what the author changed, and I had fun trying to figure figure out why he edited the things he did.

Interactive Fiction has also been taking up a lot of my time lately. I'm slowly working my way through the manual for Inform 7, which is a language for writing IF. At some point I'd like to start writing my own stories; I have an idea for one, but I'll probably try some simpler things first. There are so many things to consider, it honestly seems more complicated than writing a novel!

I haven't been writing much, but in the past few days I've written some very rough poems on the Locution forums. There's a thread in the Insight subforum called Chaining Poems, and the concept is simple. It starts with five words. A person writes a poem using them, and then posts five more words for another person to write a poem. Repeat! Anyway, here are my contributions so far~

***

geyser
filament
schist
strata
oblique

The geyser erupts
between the closet and our bed.
Somewhere underneath the floor
words collected, letters pushing
serifs tangling corners grinding
until the pressure was too much.
Lexical shrapnel.

When the steam dissipates
there are no words left.
     (You have left as well.)
I pick at the carpet around the crater,
pull up strips and dig into our lives.
Follow the filament of thought
inward and down,
past the strata studded with artifacts.
Chopsticks from dinner last Wednesday,
six of hearts from poker two weeks ago,
the napkin you scrawled 836 3098.

I scrape the dirt, dust off the fragments,
peer at oblique angles,
but cannot see when the schist fractured,
when two planes separated and fell apart

***

beer
origami
nevertheless
bondage
cinnamon

We linger by the beer
behind its glass doors, chilling
and you ask what I'd like for dinner

I tell you I wish I was an origami crane
fold me a thousand times
and I would soar
escape the bondage of gravity
the weight of these limbs
the fog in my mind

You smooth my creases
sharp as they are
and blow breath into me

Nevertheless, you say
we need to eat tonight

I grab a squat jar of cinnamon
a bag of rice, a box of raisins
we will have something
that tastes of farawayland
and later dream of flying

2010

Oh, look, a new year!

I finished my creative writing class, obviously. In the end my revisions for the portfolio went well, despite my stressing. I'm still not quite happy with the story and the poem, but my professor liked them, so I suppose that suffices.

(She suggested I submit the poem to journals for publication, which was a bit of a shock. I don't think it's up to that, but I may do so anyway--never too early to start racking up rejection slips. ^_^)

I've joined meri in a new years resolution, to post at least 200 words at least 4 times a week to a thread in Locution. Mine is here, and meri's is here. I think I'll co-post here, just to keep things in one place...

***

Ben found himself in a waiting room suddenly, in that strange, scene-hopping way that dreams change. One minute he was fishing with his dad in a lake of lava and the next he was sitting in a plastic chair under fluorescent lights.

"Would you like a toffee, young man?"

Ben stared down at the candy in confusion. It shook in the old woman's hands, the red wrapper bright against her skin, and she smiled at him.

"Um, no thanks."

"Ah well, suit yourself." She unwrapped it and popped it into her mouth, sucking noisily. "I shouldn't, really, but if you can't indulge when you're old, when can you?"

"Yeah..." The lake was fading, and then it was gone. Ben couldn't remember how he got here, or what he was waiting for. He said so to the old woman.

"Oh, don't you worry about that, dearie. I expect someone will be along in a bit to sort it all out." She patted his knee twice and settled back into her seat.

"Wait, don't you know why you're here?" Ben asked.

She frowned, puzzled. "Now that you mention it, no. My memory must not be what it used to be. Maybe I wrote it down." She patted her trouser's pocket and drew out a slip of paper. "Oh, look, my number. Perhaps they'll call it soon."

It was like those numbers taken by people waiting to be served at the the local butcher's.

***

It's a story idea I came up with over Christmas break, while vacationing in the swamp. I'll see where it goes~

Poetry Snippets

This Thanksgiving weekend is a writing weekend. I have thus far written a critique, posted a story for critique, started editing said story, and begun trying to make an incomprehensible poem into something comprehensible. (I am thinking the last is a lost cause, but I'm gonna keep trying. ^_^)

The story and poem are the ones I wrote for my creative writing class. I won't bother posting them here yet, but I feel like putting up some of the exercises I've done (one of which I wrote about in my previous post). They're not good, but they were fun to write~

***

Write an unrhymed poem that incorporates the following six words (among others): ROAD, DEAR, SICKLY, GLASS, DISPERSES, BLOSSOMS

Dear Friend,

You took the left turn and I the right
and I wished it had been a knife in the road instead
because then my feet would not have wanted to be right.
The sickly scent of your new perfume
dispersed with the distance and I hated it--
its presence, its disappearance.
Red blossoms on the hedgerows were your cheeks
and bees buzzed around blushing petals.
My dull face did not attract such suitors
and I swatted down your butterfly.

Guilty feet shuffled and scuffed
the dirt, the pebbles, the dust
and later they found their way back to town.
You stood behind the glass of a shop window
and my feet tripped one over the other--
but I saw that you had two left feet
equal to my two right feet.

I waved, and you smiled.

***

Write a poem in which one color (ex: red) is frequently repeated. Consider the symbolic associations of your chosen color (ex: anger, passion, death). Make color your unifying motif. Pay close attention to where, when, and why you're breaking the language where you are.

Viola Brown

The brown sound seeps deep into my bones
and I am the one who owns these strings.
Brown wood sings in mellow melody,
rich rhapsody thrilling down my arms,
and it warms like coffee on an autumn day.

I am a chestnut rooted in brown earth,
my leaves unfurling in rebirth to the sound
resonating all around. My heart begins to heal
as my flying fingers feel and my ears hear
the color of brown.

***

The second is very shallow, but I had so much fun messing around with sounds I really can't bring myself to care. ^_^

On the Creative Writing Class

I've been having a lot of fun in my online creative writing class, but unfortunately it's the cause of my lengthy radio silence. A few weeks ago we had a fiction workshop, in which everyone posted a story and then critiqued the other stories. Twenty-two critiques in three weeks gets to be a bit wearing. ^_^

Having to write a story for the workshop was good motivation, though; I managed to write a shortened version of a concept I've had for several years. I think it must be pleased to see the light of day after knocking around in my head for so long. The draft was received fairly well, and soon I'll begin revising it for our final "portfolio" assignment.

Going through the critiques I received has me pondering how to deal with contradictory opinions, a situation I hadn't come across before. On Locution I usually get a body of advice that all adds up to a certain direction; even different opinions aren't blatant contradictions. With this workshop, though, I've found people can have very different reactions to the same story. One person really disliked the magical element I introduced, for instance, while two people thought it needed more emphasis to seem more magical. Yet another said he liked the subtlety of it. I'll probably end up editing the story in line with the opinion I favor, but I can't decide if that's taking the easy way out or simply the way to deal with such variance. Ah well~

Just over a week ago we started the poetry segment of the course, which has been interesting. I'm not much of a poetry person, and I was both apprehensive and excited about it. Right now I've got my workshop poem and a color poem to write--it's sort of what I'm avoiding at the moment, but I'll get round to it soon. ^_^;;

I made a conscious effort when the segment started to try thinking differently. I don't write much poetry, but when I do it's not uncommon for someone to say it's too much like prose, or they can't find a deeper meaning. And I agree--I'm not very good with poetic language or symbolism. I think, though, I managed something different with the exercise last week. We had to take six words the professor gave us and use them in a poem. What resulted wasn't good, per se--the imagery was probably a bit muddled, and rereading it I can see places that need work. Point is, I actually paid attention to imagery, symbolism, metaphor, and suchlike. I may not have got the execution right, but I was thinking about it as I wrote and edited, and I think it made a difference.

Anyway, I should probably get back to thinking about that color poem:

Write a poem in which one color (ex: red) is frequently repeated. Consider the symbolic associations of your chosen color (ex: anger, passion, death). Make color your unifying motif. Pay close attention to where, when, and why you're breaking the language where you are.

I'll see how it goes. ^_^

Locution Issue 3 Is Out!

You can download it here. ^_^

I expect anyone reading this blog (all three of you) already knows of the publication, but what the heck. I'm excited.

In other news, I started my math class a few weeks ago. So far it's really going well; I forgot how much I enjoyed math. Yesterday I also bought my books for the creative writing class, since I'm hopeful that I'll be able to manage taking it along side the math class. So I'm excited about that, too.

Lots of excitement. :)

On the writing front I haven't been particularly busy. I did post my time travel story for critique on Locution, which has me motivated to take it further and develop the story. As a result, for the past few days I've been thinking up ideas and possibilities at inopportune moments, like when I'm just on the edge of sleep. Ah writing, how I love thee~

News

I haven't written a lot in the past two months, at least not in terms of fiction—most of my energies have gone into writing essays and journal entries for my first college class (English Composition). It's nice to get back into the habit of writing essays, and I certainly need the practice, but five paragraph essays do get wearing after a while...

I did slightly edit a story I wrote last October for a contest on the Locution Forums. The next issue of Locution is coming up (planned date of publication is August 15), and as a staff member I had to submit something. It was interesting to do, since editing is my usual obstacle to finishing a story. I can edit as I write, and I can edit before entering a forum contest, but afterwards? For some reason or another, I get stuck.

This time, however, I had a reason to persevere, and I managed a few changes that (I hope) were worthwhile. So that's progress, perhaps. ^_^

I'll also hopefully be taking an online creative writing course in the fall, which will mean I have to make the time for more creative stuffs. Huzzah~ \o/