Thursday morning from The Cottage of Blog
Good morning from The Cottage of Blog where the coffee's fresh and the blueberry muffins just came out of the oven. Help yourself to some coffee and pull up a chair and let's have a discussion.
Goals: What's yours?
Yesterday I transferred fourteen chapters from separate chapter files to a complete manuscript, header and all. Now I know all the sectioneer friends are going to say "wait a minute. Chapters???" Well, yeah. eventually you have to put them into chapters. Publishers expect it of you.
But, in the beginning writing phases I can see the wisdom of blocks, sections, scenes. Boy can I!
I'm still incorporating scenes that will flesh out the "villain" although he-it is not really one person, but an organization. It's not easy to add when you're already into chapters. Real easy if you have your work organized into scenes.
My next novel. Really.
I thought it would be a snap. I planned on sending the entire ms to my CP yesterday until I discovered that not everything in every chapter had been updated or rewritten. So, I ended up revising the stuff I hadn't realized I hadn't revised before. (yes I know I used the same word in the same sentence. After all, this is just an over-coffee discussion. I can do that if I want. And, I like the word revise. It makes me feel industrious.
Today, I look for those holes in the next five chapters.
Then, heaven help me, I totally rewrite chapter 21 (oh the pain, oh the agony) and check what I'd written last week in chapters 22, 23, 24 and the epilogue. (or was there a chapter 26 too?)
I can't wait to start on something new.
Discovering the Right Word.
I'm going to write something controversial, I think. I might do another essay later on this subject. When I got Maddie's assignment something really hit me. The day of political correctness. When the right word is no longer the right word in currect society.
Take Stephen Foster. Some of the most beloved music written in the 19th century. Swanee, Jeannie with the Light Brown Hair, My Old Kentucky Home . . .
"My Old Kentucky Home?" you say, pouring milk into your cup. "Isn't that played at the Kentucky Derby?"
"Yeah. True," I replied, taking the last sip in my cup and pouring more. "But consider the words. 'It's summer, the darkies are gay.'
"Oh!" you reply, nearly choking and having to clean up the mess. "I hadn't thought about . . . did he really write . . . ?"
"Oh yes. But that was naturally back then. Groups of people were considered almost subhuman. Anyone that wasn't a WASP as a matter of fact. African-Americans made the best targets, so they were slaves, Native Americans were "savages." I could go on. I won't because I want to discuss the right word. And it's not my favorite topic anyway."
"Okay," you said. "So what happened to Mr. Foster, then. They're still playing his music."
"True. But listen to the new words. "It's summer, the people are bright."
The word "gay" used to denote happy, bright, feeling really good about yourself and life in general. How it changed, I don't know. I thought the word itself expresses those sentiments exactly. But now it's depicts a group of people who are sexually oriented a certain way. You can't use that word anymore without some poor slob snickering in the background.
(I teach school. What can I say? Someone's always giggling about something)
Speaking of school. What about that awful "N" word that brings back the days when some pretty nasty folks lynched and set the dogs on someone if they were a certain color and were damanding their God give rights? Or those socially concious sympathizers who's only mistake was to try to help? I can't even write or speak that word out loud? It's the slang word society banned from polite society.
Hah. Guess what? the kids are saying it to each other. They're trying to get me to say it, and they think it's funny that I can't. We've had many discussions as to why I simply cannot bring myself to say it. But the word is back in vogue, even with white kids saying it to each other in the suburban schoos--white kids saying it to black kids, black kids saying it to white kids--every kid saying it to each other. It means now--a little brother, a friend, a pal. I hear it referred to friends who just said or did something stupid. I still won't say it. It might go back out of fashion next school year. And I grew up in the North during that era.
I realize that wasn't quite the assignment. I'll work on something proper. I just thought that was an interesting move in the English language. Our vocabulary is always evolving, always changing. In meaning, structure, color and dialogue. It changes with the generations and is "Gone with the Wind." Interesting, huh?
Anyway. If you'd like to stay and write with me a spell, you may make your goals on the dining room table with your laptop.
I'm going out to the porch and watch the imaginary boats float down my imaginary lake from The Cottage of Blog where
the coffee's always fresh and the muffins are right out of the oven.
Happy reading, writing, revising and blogging.
Pat
Goals: What's yours?
Yesterday I transferred fourteen chapters from separate chapter files to a complete manuscript, header and all. Now I know all the sectioneer friends are going to say "wait a minute. Chapters???" Well, yeah. eventually you have to put them into chapters. Publishers expect it of you.
But, in the beginning writing phases I can see the wisdom of blocks, sections, scenes. Boy can I!
I'm still incorporating scenes that will flesh out the "villain" although he-it is not really one person, but an organization. It's not easy to add when you're already into chapters. Real easy if you have your work organized into scenes.
My next novel. Really.
I thought it would be a snap. I planned on sending the entire ms to my CP yesterday until I discovered that not everything in every chapter had been updated or rewritten. So, I ended up revising the stuff I hadn't realized I hadn't revised before. (yes I know I used the same word in the same sentence. After all, this is just an over-coffee discussion. I can do that if I want. And, I like the word revise. It makes me feel industrious.
Today, I look for those holes in the next five chapters.
Then, heaven help me, I totally rewrite chapter 21 (oh the pain, oh the agony) and check what I'd written last week in chapters 22, 23, 24 and the epilogue. (or was there a chapter 26 too?)
I can't wait to start on something new.
Discovering the Right Word.
I'm going to write something controversial, I think. I might do another essay later on this subject. When I got Maddie's assignment something really hit me. The day of political correctness. When the right word is no longer the right word in currect society.
Take Stephen Foster. Some of the most beloved music written in the 19th century. Swanee, Jeannie with the Light Brown Hair, My Old Kentucky Home . . .
"My Old Kentucky Home?" you say, pouring milk into your cup. "Isn't that played at the Kentucky Derby?"
"Yeah. True," I replied, taking the last sip in my cup and pouring more. "But consider the words. 'It's summer, the darkies are gay.'
"Oh!" you reply, nearly choking and having to clean up the mess. "I hadn't thought about . . . did he really write . . . ?"
"Oh yes. But that was naturally back then. Groups of people were considered almost subhuman. Anyone that wasn't a WASP as a matter of fact. African-Americans made the best targets, so they were slaves, Native Americans were "savages." I could go on. I won't because I want to discuss the right word. And it's not my favorite topic anyway."
"Okay," you said. "So what happened to Mr. Foster, then. They're still playing his music."
"True. But listen to the new words. "It's summer, the people are bright."
The word "gay" used to denote happy, bright, feeling really good about yourself and life in general. How it changed, I don't know. I thought the word itself expresses those sentiments exactly. But now it's depicts a group of people who are sexually oriented a certain way. You can't use that word anymore without some poor slob snickering in the background.
(I teach school. What can I say? Someone's always giggling about something)
Speaking of school. What about that awful "N" word that brings back the days when some pretty nasty folks lynched and set the dogs on someone if they were a certain color and were damanding their God give rights? Or those socially concious sympathizers who's only mistake was to try to help? I can't even write or speak that word out loud? It's the slang word society banned from polite society.
Hah. Guess what? the kids are saying it to each other. They're trying to get me to say it, and they think it's funny that I can't. We've had many discussions as to why I simply cannot bring myself to say it. But the word is back in vogue, even with white kids saying it to each other in the suburban schoos--white kids saying it to black kids, black kids saying it to white kids--every kid saying it to each other. It means now--a little brother, a friend, a pal. I hear it referred to friends who just said or did something stupid. I still won't say it. It might go back out of fashion next school year. And I grew up in the North during that era.
I realize that wasn't quite the assignment. I'll work on something proper. I just thought that was an interesting move in the English language. Our vocabulary is always evolving, always changing. In meaning, structure, color and dialogue. It changes with the generations and is "Gone with the Wind." Interesting, huh?
Anyway. If you'd like to stay and write with me a spell, you may make your goals on the dining room table with your laptop.
I'm going out to the porch and watch the imaginary boats float down my imaginary lake from The Cottage of Blog where
the coffee's always fresh and the muffins are right out of the oven.
Happy reading, writing, revising and blogging.
Pat
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