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| >> Book >> Fantasy >> ID #1109199 |
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I will come here often1 to add my latest ideas, and see if my story can take shape.A bit like my notebook, but I welcome comments. I may add the odd rambling diary entry about something I have seen and/or heard. I tend to go a bit George Mikes and/or P G Wodehouse at these times so take everything I write about "life" with a pinch af whimsical salt! Also here you will find Footnotes |
| 116. I blog, therefore... what? | ID #745287 |
| Posted: 1-22-2012 @ 4:16 am EST Edited: 1-22-2012 @ 4:39 pm EST | |
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Prompt for day 22: In what way/ways does blogging fulfil you? |
| 115. Precious memories | ID #744429 |
| Posted: 1-16-2012 @ 4:57 pm EST | |
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"A man is the sum of his memories," as the Doctor once observed, during his fifth incarnation. And yet memory is such a fragile thing. Held in the alignment of a few brain cells, such a tiny thing to be so very powerful. Memory is a curious phenomenon, and one which may never be fully understood. Every second of every day, we are filing away new information and deepening existing memory paths. As I type, I am reinforcing my physical memory with respect to touch-typing, as well as using my semantic memory to summon up the words I need. I'm remembering spellings, and the rules of grammar and punctuation. And when I finish this post, I will remember that I wrote it, and even some of what I said. Memory is marvellous, and I'd be quite lost without it. I know I would, for on the occasions that it lets me down I feel very disorientated indeed. |
| 114. Of black cats and broken mirrors | ID #744137 |
| Posted: 1-13-2012 @ 6:47 pm EST | |
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Prompt for day thirteen: "Do you believe that bad things happen on Friday the 13th? Give us the reasons why you do or don't. Are there any other superstitions you believe (or don't believe) in?" |
| 113. The next big thing? | ID #744032 |
| Posted: 1-12-2012 @ 10:17 am EST Edited: 1-13-2012 @ 6:48 pm EST | |
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Prompt for day twelve: We have seen significant technological advancements in our time. Sites like TED and Big Think offer amazing ideas. What do you think will be the next big thing? |
| 112. The Common Mystery | ID #744031 |
| Posted: 1-12-2012 @ 10:15 am EST Edited: 1-13-2012 @ 6:25 pm EST | |
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Prompt for day eleven: Time. We all have it, but nobody completely understands it. What are your thoughts on time? |
| 111. My last meal | ID #743893 |
| Posted: 1-10-2012 @ 11:05 am EST Edited: 1-13-2012 @ 5:59 pm EST | |
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Prompt for day ten: If you knew that your next meal would be your last, what would you eat? |
| 110. Good & Evil | ID #743796 |
| Posted: 1-9-2012 @ 8:44 am EST Edited: 1-9-2012 @ 5:09 pm EST | |
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Prompt for day 9: Good versus evil. Does it truly exist? What are the gray areas? Do good people do bad things? Do evil people do nice things? Good and evil most certainly do exist. They are fixed points, and not a matter of personal preference. However, I do not believe that there are "good people" and "evil people". There are people who do good things, are people who do evil things, and sometimes they are the same people. Good and evil are not intrinsic qualities, like height or hair colour, they are a matter of how we choose to behave. As Vimes once pointed out, you can't say that you are one of the good guys and do bad-guy things. As writers, when it comes to creating characters, we need to keep them realistic in their approach to good and evil. Write about someone who is goodness personified, or a character who is pure, unadulterated evil, and you'll soon lose your audience, Much has been said about this already, and I won't bore you by repeating it, but I think the whole situation is summed up best in this quote: "No child is born a criminal: no child is born an angel: he's just born." ~ Sydney Smith As for grey areas; nine times out of ten we call it a "grey area" when we know that we are doing wrong and want to justify it. As Granny Weatherwax put it, "There's no greys, only white that's got grubby." A harsh view, maybe, but an honest one. So-called "grey areas" can usually be resolved by applying the principles which define "good". Not the laws, but the principles behind those laws. The principles of kindness, and fairness, and honesty, among others. |
| 109. Questions and answers | ID #743744 |
| Posted: 1-8-2012 @ 4:52 pm EST Edited: 1-8-2012 @ 5:09 pm EST | |
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Prompt for Day 8: "What is your greatest strength? What is your biggest weakness? Write about each and why you think it’s a strength or weakness. How would you change either of these things, if you could?" There are several disadvantages to having ME and not being able to work. Quite apart from being treated as a complete non-person for not having a job, it is a nightmare jumping through the endless succession of hoops from the benefits system. But that is a topic for another Just about the only good thing about the whole situation is that I don't have to go to job interviews, and answer daft questions like "What is your greatest strength?" and "What is your biggest weakness?" No offence to Julie, I know you don't make up these sort of interview questions. And since other people do write these questions, we need to practice answering them. Well, you do. I need to practice answering questions about exactly how much pain I'm in, and how I can prove it. Still, I suppose that I will have to go to job interviews if I can't convince a panel of faceless bureaucrats that I'm ill, and not just lying my face off so I can scrounge off the honest British public. In that case, I will have to go to regular interviews, pain and fatigue notwithstanding, and answer questions like the ones in today's prompt. So, I guess I should thank Julie for helping me prepare for the worst. My greatest strength? That's hard. I don't think I have any strengths - not what I would call strengths. I have no quality of field of knowledge that could be described as "strong". I'm honest, but tactless. I can usually see both sides of an issue, to the point where I find it almost impossible to make decisions. I can work through pain and discomfort, but not well enough to satisfy the authorities. I'm willing to help others, but hopelessly bad at noticing when people need my help. The only strong thing about me is my faith, which is only partly mine. The chief part of my faith comes from the simple fact of God's undeserved kindness and truth. I realise that the above paragraph comes across as rather self-pitying, which it isn't at all meant to be. It's something of a relief to be able to say "I have no strengths" without friends rallying around and saying, "Of course you do! You've got lots of strengths!" and then going on to list things that are not only not strengths, but which are positive weaknesses, such as "you're always so fair" (i.e. indecisive). When I say I have no strengths, it is like saying that I have brown hair. It is not an opinion, it is a fact. I can try to hide the fact, just as I could dye my hair if I chose, but it wouldn't change the basic, underlying facts. Some people have strengths in their fields of knowledge and expertise. I am reasonably good at blagging, so long there's no-one about who really knows their stuff, and I can strum a few chords on the guitar. Some of my friends use this as a basis for telling me that my strengths are music and [fill in blagging subject here]. This makes me cringe. I try to be honest, and knowing that I have fooled someone into thinking I know what I'm talking about makes me feel like a liar. Unfortunately, saying this to anyone just makes me sound modest. I'm not. I'm horribly self-centred; it's a wonder that the "I" key hasn't been worn away from my keyboard, considering how often I use it. Well then, that "strengths" dealt with. On to "weaknesses". Except I'm not going to go there. You should have a fair idea of what my weaknesses are from what I said about my "strengths", but here's another one for you. Clinical depression. This post has already sent me on a bad downward spiral, and I'm going to stop now before things get any worse. I may delete this whole entry after the month is up, because it's likely to trigger future downers if I leave it where I might re-read it. The final part of the prompt was what would I change about myself, if I could. In a word: EVERYTHING. Seriously. I challenge you to find anything worth salvaging out of my train-wreck of a life. No, don't bother. If I haven't found it after thirty years of looking, there's probably nothing to find. But don't go calling the emergency services, I'm not about to end it all. I don't get to duck out and leave someone else to clean up my mess - that's not allowed. Anyway, Dorothy Parker summed it up nicely: Razors pain you; Rivers are damp; Acids stain you; And drugs cause cramp. Guns aren’t lawful; Nooses give; Gas smells awful; You might as well live. I may not have any strengths of my own, but the wit and wisdom of others keeps me from going completely over the edge. When all's said and done, I might as well live. |
| 108. If I could turn back time | ID #743583 |
| Posted: 1-7-2012 @ 3:15 pm EST Edited: 1-8-2012 @ 6:02 pm EST | |
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If I could have a do-over, I'd like to take another try at the last two days. I spent them in bed, resting painful legs and back, and there were so many things to meant to get done. "Nobody can go back and start a new beginning, but anyone can start today and make a new ending." - Maria Robinson |
| 107. Optimism and ME | ID #743508 |
| Posted: 1-6-2012 @ 6:34 pm EST Edited: 1-6-2012 @ 6:36 pm EST | |
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It's January the sixth, which is to say, six days since I undertook this blogging challenge, and I'm already struggling. The first assignment for the Novel Writing 101 class is due the day after tomorrow, and I have a pile of housework growing steadily. As ever, I have tried to do too much, and it's showing. |
| 106. Dear Fear | ID #743386 |
| Posted: 1-5-2012 @ 6:14 am EST Edited: 1-5-2012 @ 10:27 am EST | |
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Prompt: We’re all afraid of something. Write a formal complaint to whatever scares you the most. |
| 105. A World-Wide Issue | ID #743296 |
| Posted: 1-4-2012 @ 7:49 am EST | |
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There is so much wrong in the world today that it is hard to choose just one issue to talk about. The environment, human rights, crime, poverty, discrimination, injustice, war, terrorism, the list goes on. Which of these do I feel most strongly about? Well, all of them. Because behind all these terrible actions lies a single issue, a single reason for all the ills of the earth. |
| 104. The Write/Type Debate | ID #743225 |
| Posted: 1-3-2012 @ 12:44 pm EST | |
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Less controversial issue, eh? Maybe, maybe not. |
| 103. The End of Days | ID #743152 |
| Posted: 1-2-2012 @ 8:09 pm EST Edited: 1-2-2012 @ 8:38 pm EST | |
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Prompt: To some, 2012 is a tragic year since it is associated with end of days. Express your sentiments on this. |
| 102. Happiness is... | ID #742921 |
| Posted: 1-1-2012 @ 4:19 am EST Edited: 1-1-2012 @ 1:56 pm EST | |
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Happiness is universal. It is the one goal that everyone has in common, but it means something different to each person. When preparing this post, I did a Google search for "Happiness is..." quotes |
| 101. The Year That Never Was | ID #736594 |
| Posted: 10-11-2011 @ 7:26 am EDT | |
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According to the counter thingy |
| 100. Blog Bumpers is Back! | ID #708157 |
| Posted: 10-10-2010 @ 5:26 pm EDT Edited: 10-10-2010 @ 6:36 pm EDT | |
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This blog has been neglected lately, but for the best of reasons: I've been writing! Over the summer I took part in 50/90, and now I'm preparing for NaNo. In honour of the return of ~EL~ Merry Christmas! |
| 99. Cleaning house | ID #700355 |
| Posted: 6-29-2010 @ 3:44 am EDT | |
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I have just been through my blog posts to date, and deleted all the "empty" posts - the ones that were created for a challenge prompt but never actually written. I have, however, kept some of the older posts where I took notes for a prompt that I intended to get back to. One day, I may even finish those posts, but in the meanwhile the notes are an interesting indication of my state of mind at the time I created the entry. |
| 98. The Trials of the Season | ID #680673 |
| Posted: 12-22-2009 @ 12:40 am EST Edited: 12-24-2009 @ 6:28 pm EST | |
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PROMPT #2: Complete the line with a story of any length or a poem ... "A reindeer just ate ___________ "A reindeer just ate my hat!" The petulant cry rose from the frosty courtyard to the warm kitchen, and the speaker followed close behind. "My hat!" he said again, holding up the tattered remains of a white tassel with a scrap of red material attached. He waved it accusingly in his wife's face, as if he suspected her of secretly cultivating a taste for red velvet in his reindeer. The woman, however, did not so much as look at the sorry remnants of her husband's headgear; instead she simply went on with her knitting, warming her feet against the fire grate and waiting for the kettle to boil. "Well?" said the man at last, exasperated at his wife's indifference to his plight. "Well, what, dear?" she answered, carefully counting her stitches as she prepared to start a new row. "What are you going to do about it?" he almost shouted. "I can't go out without a hat, tonight of all nights!" "I don't see why not," his wife countered. "It's not as if your ears will get cold, not with all that hair of yours." The man snorted with impatience. "It's not a matter of cold ears, you stupid woman! It's a matter of appearances. And contractual obligation," he added. The old woman made a sound that seemed to indicate that were it not wholly unladylike to do so, she would currently be the one snorting with impatience. "Appearances!" she scoffed. "No-one sees you, you daft old fool; not unless you're getting careless in your old age. So what does it matter about appearances? And as for your contractual obligations," and this time she came very close indeed to a decidedly un-genteel expression of disapproval, "They never paid you a penny. There is no contract, and there never was." "There was an understanding," retorted her husband, stiffly. "A gentlemen's agreement, which I'll have you know is every bit as binding as a written contract to men of business." He drew himself up with such dignity that he nearly put his back out. "Careful," his wife said. "You'll put your back out, strutting around like that." She laid aside her knitting and lifted the kettle from the fire. "Tea?" The old man gruntingly indicated that tea might be acceptable, but should in no way be allowed to divert the topic of conversation. His wife obliged, both with the tea and the talk. "You're not a man of business, though, are you? You're not a man of any sort. You are, my dear Claus, a quasi-mythical personification of an ancient pagan ritual beneath a thin modern veneer. So your 'gentlemen's agreement' isn't worth the paper it's written on. Consequently," here she paused to let her words sink in. "Consequently," she went on, with the air of a prosecuting council delivering a masterful summation, "It doesn't matter two hoots if your reindeer eat up your hat. They can make a meal of your boots, jacket and belt buckle for all I care." "My dear!" The old man almost fainted in the face of such blasphemy. "My hat, my suit, everything about me... it's a symbol of peace on earth and goodwill toward men. That outfit represents all that is good and kind and true in this world, all things bright and beautiful, all..." "Yes, yes, dear, I know. Don't get carried away, you'll bring on one of your turns," interrupted his wife, soothingly. "It's all very well to talk about peace on earth, but you'd be hard put to show me any." She took his arm and sat him down in his own chair by the fire; then she knelt beside him and laid her head in his lap, stroking the plushy velvet of his red trousers. "You're a fine, beautiful idea, my darling; but we both know it's a lie, all of it. A great, comfortable lie made by men who couldn't bear the truth. The truth may set men free, but freedom is a big, terrifying thing. So are truth, and wisdom, and all the real things of this world. Men long ago knew the true God, and they were afraid of Him. Afraid of His power, of His perfection. So they made us, puppets to stand in the place of God. We have no power beyond what men give us, and so we do not frighten them. But neither can we save them from themselves, from their fear and ignorance." The old woman's eyes filled with tears that soaked into the red trousers. "Only the true God has that sort of power, and they hide from Him behind us like a child hiding behind a teddy bear." Her husband rested a hand on her hair, and nodded, sadly. "It would be better for them if we did not exist," he said. "If we, and all those like us, would fade away and force men to see the glory of God. Perhaps, after all, it is a good thing that my hat was eaten. I think that I will not ride out tonight?" He had meant to make a bold statement, but it came out as a trembling question. Blinking away her tears, the old woman lifted her head and looked her husband in the face. "The choice is not yours to make," she said. "We have no power but that which is given to us by men. You will ride out tonight, you cannot help it. Any more than I could help making this." From behind the seat cushion of her own chair she drew her finished knitting. It was a bright red hat with a white tassel. Grimly, silently, the old man headed to the door. He pulled the hat onto his head, climbed into the sleigh and flicked the reins. As the reindeer climbed high into the night sky, he set his mouth in a thin, determined line. Surely he could do something? He had to try, at least. As he soared through the air above the slumbering rooftops, he opened his mouth to cry out, "Fear the true God and give him glory!" But instead, ringing out across the cold night sky he heard his own voice, booming, rich and jolly, "Ho, ho, ho! Merry Christmas!" |
| 97. On the first day of blogging... | ID #680645 |
| Posted: 12-21-2009 @ 7:12 pm EST Edited: 12-21-2009 @ 7:47 pm EST | |
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PROMPT #1: Familiarize yourself with the folk song, THE TWELVE DAYS OF CHRISTMAS and blog about it for us. It's an old favourite, the one we all know. Or sort of know. The one everyone will happily join in with as long as someone else starts it off. Honestly now, who can get past the verse with the 'five go-o-o-o-ld rings' without faltering? As the next verse approaches the mind start racing. Is it the lords a-leaping next, or the maids a-milking? Or perhaps the pipers piping?2 And don't swans come into it somewhere? Or is it geese? By which time, the whole communal sing-along has descended into embarrassed mumbling, and everyone wishes they'd stuck to "Ten Green Bottles" instead. It may be comforting to know that even the traditionalists can't agree on the exact order of the verses, with one website even putting a footnote on their version of the lyrics that said: "...the 'lords, ladies, pipers, drummers' are often switched around."3 So go ahead and sing the verses in any old order you please. Make up your own verses if you like4. As with all these songs for singing around the fire (camp or hearth) the most important thing is to have fun and get everyone to join in. And if people are reluctant to join the chorus just threaten to keep on singing until they give in and sing up. Oh and, just to put you out of your misery, here are the full twelve days of gifts listed in order (or at least an order). Take a deep breath now... Twelve lords a-leaping, Eleven ladies dancing, Ten pipers piping, Nine drummers drumming, Eight maids a-milking, Seven swans a-swimming, Six geese a-laying, Five gold rings, Four calling birds, Three French hens, Two turtle doves, And a partridge in a pear tree. Footnotes |