Posts Tagged ‘writers’
~ …Dreams are gossamer threads bound with iridescent rainbows and reflected in golden clouds; they let us reach for the unattainable and believe we will touch it… they hold our spirit and remind us to chase the vision… We admire those who attain greatness and strive to follow in their footsteps… ~ krd…
(You may have seen that before… it’s in my WordPress profile as well… thank you for remembering!)
I am female, which means as all males of this era will insist I am the weaker sex. Ha! These men would be nothing if their mothers hadn’t taught them to be brave, heroic, honest and honourable and their fathers taught them skills. They, or at least the ones raised up in a caring environment, will doff their cap or come to the aid of a lady in distress…
Then there are those whose upbringing was of a more personal nature: eat-or-be-eaten. The world is filled with these miscreants, who will smile at you and, when you lower your eyes, they’ll shove a carving knife through your heart…
Still I am in charge of my smallholding; a pittance of the Grande Kingdom, to the North of Wolcast, where I was born. Removed to the plains South of Wolcast when my uncle seized power, his blade still dripping with my father, the King’s blood. Many, who stood bravely by my side, refusing to surrender or pay allegiance to the usurper of the throne, paid with their lives, their screams still haunting me; their homes burned, their families murdered.
Offered the holding in the region of Norweld, a small stone hovel, really, I grasped at it. Determined to re-build and make my uncle pay for his treachery…
I wish to build my Master City, Iridescent Rivers, into a rich and thriving merchant hub, where squabbles and petty crimes are intolerable. Where news can flow and persons can find respite. Join me in my quest… for you will find I am loyal, trustworthy and generous; but woe to the traveller bent on destruction and harm, for no quarter will be shown…
*the plot begins to churn…*
Soooooo… whatcha think? LOL… I imagine I will be toast in 5-days… but the novel idea (or maybe simply a story) shall grow for many sleepless nights, drats and double-drats!
I wish to give credit for the photo, unfortunately the details appear to be locked in my other computer… if its yours and you object, please inform me, I will delete!
- My experience building a world… (khrystleraineduste.wordpress.com) Shameless promotion, eh?
- don’t know why this bullet will not go away… Probably punishment for my shameless promotion… lol
Illyriad… A great place to waste your day… I am apparently building a ‘kingdom’ – I called it Iridescent Rivers… I have 7-days before they let the warriors test my strength, until then I am supposedly safe from attack… So, basically, I have 7-days (real-time) before I die… Ought to be interesting… take care… *hugs* luv khrys…
“Hi there. Don’t mind me…” (Flitting about anxiously peering out deep casements, watching the siege unfold.)
“I’m khrystle-raine. I was drawn into this world by a very seductive app photo and compelling need to play a game that was more mind consuming than lining three objects up and watching them disappear from the game board.
“I installed the app, along with several others, although three-quarters are already in the garbage… *delete*…
“Whoa! Watch yourself.” (Pulling you away from the window, letting the thick leather curtain fall back into place, before stooping to retrieve the arrow that nearly ended this interview.) “Please, do be careful.
“Now, as I was saying, after settling myself down, I clicked on the app. Appliance? I still don’t know what app stands for, but it starts a program or takes you to a website where you argue with the gatekeeper for nearly an hour, before you realise the gate keeper was right, you were wrong; it doesn’t matter if you were correct, the gate keeper has the FINAL word.
“You figure out what it is the gate keeper is asking for and you comply and, instantly you are transported to this imaginary time and world that kind of combines tenth-century through sixteenth-century and imaginary trials and tribulations along with real (faux) scenarios, diplomacy; trade; higher learning, etc…
“Yikes!” (An arrow pushes past the curtain as a gust of wind lifts it.) “Maybe we should move to the inner room.
“Now, the gatekeeper introduces you to a very kind Invisible-Wizard who urges you to accept the offer of a tutorial, which, you really ought to take advantage of.” (Shooting arrows, or whatever I’m capable of…I haven’t really entered the combat zone yet…)
“The tutorial lets you know you ain’t getting out alive.” (Short laugh) Actually, I highly recommend the tutorial. Without it, you would be hopelessly lost instead of mildly flummoxed.
“There are a million things that need to be taken care of and suddenly, I’M in charge? (Not sure who’s bright idea that was…) I learned my appointment was/is as a lowly Governor. Director; Ruler; Administrator; Head; Superintendent; Regulator; Controller… Are you getting this? Those batteries will not last long here. There is no electricity to recharge; I hope you brought a pencil and notepad.
“Good gracious… Didn’t I have a peace treaty with you???” (shouting uselessly out the doorway at the stonewalls, expecting my soft-spoken voice to drift the mile or so between where the army-captain stood and where I cowered, swishing skirts muttering about modern clothing for women.)
Turning back to you, “It’s true you know, I struck a peace treaty my second day here, even though I was under the protection of the ‘gawds’ for seven-days; a rainbow covered my lands, protecting me from all who meant harm. On the eighth day, the veil lifted and I saw, camped around me hoards, ready to destroy my carefully constructed, tenuously poised fiefdom.
“Some I made treaties with, some proudly marched in as saviours, protecting my lands, others sent spies and saboteurs to destroy and confuse me. I have many people counting on me to save them from death or prison. I intend to win. Please excuse me. I will be back; you should be safe here. Please don’t leave; I don’t need to be wondering where you’ve gotten yourself.” (Gather up whatever weapons/potions/stuff I am able, creep from the room closing the thick wooden door and with my back pressed against the icy-cold stonewall of the steep, damp, dark staircase, cautiously slip down to the melee…)
SO… Should (can?!?) I turn this into a novel?!? Currently it is not even an outline; just an idea…
*hugs* …luv khrys.
PS: (Of course it means research… don’t know too much about other centuries…don’t know nuthin’ really…lol)
PPS: I can’t help you get past the gatekeeper; I still don’t know what I did right or wrong…
PPPS: ULTRA-IMPORTANT, IF it hasn’t already done so: GO HERE…WordPress NEWS... Kinda something I thought would be frontpage news… but there ya go… (Now, can someone tell me WHERE the ‘update’ button on my DASHBOARD is, please?)
For some reason I was unable to post on this, ‘No ‘F’ Words Given‘, blog (actually I use to post quite regularly to TechCrunch, not sure why my browsers (all of them apparently) won’t let me post anymore.)
Which forces this blog.
A ‘rebuttal’ of sorts to their ‘rebuttal’ of sorts, No ‘F’ Words Given, regarding many of their READER’S objections to their using the “F” word TWICE in consecutive posts.
The writer, Alexia Tsotsis, smugly points out, at the end, she did not use the “F” word ONCE during this rebuttal; and pats herself on the back.
I have a huge objection to her ‘so-called-wimpy-a**ed-attempt-to-placate-HER/TECHCRUNCH’S-readers’; IF YOU DON’T WANT ME TO READ YOUR ARTICLES, PLEASE TELL ME; I’LL TAKE YOU OFF MY ‘BLOGS-I-LIKE’ LIST.
The article begins by lambasting the EXCEPTIONALLY large volume of complaints they <TechCrunch> received from their READERS. (Although, they/she seem/s to think these people just walked in off the information-highway, saw the blog and decided to shout ‘foul!’)
Nowhere do I see an apology. Just the defense of their use of the “F” word in the headline of their articles.
The truth is that even one F-word isn’t okay when people are looking to get up in arms about something, and I know because I’ve published one F-word-headlined post (one in my whole life) and it was received in exactly the same fashion as these two, with a barrage of phone calls and emails and tweets: “That’s crazy! You’re crazy!” I still have to hear about it at parties. Pasted from
To this, please gentle reader, turn your head; it is now that my bi-polarity
comes full circle and boils over:
F*** YOU ALEXIA TSOTSIS!
This TRUTH you present didn’t warn you that people are NOT ready/willing to see such childish journalism?
We don’t require big fancy words; nor do we ask for gutter-speak, we, or at least I, tune in to receive interesting feedback or cutting-edge information. Not to be sworn at. (And, yes, as you point out, NOT to receive cookie-cutter re-hashing of press releases. If a journalist/bloggist/writer is friends with an industry professional, then they should take even MORE care to be UNBIASED. Not foul-mouthed.)
“You still have to hear about it at parties.” Well I guess it’s true, it’s not who you are, but what you’re remembered for. (I actually misspelled remembered and in retrospect, the misspelling may actually ‘suit’ the sentence better, namely: ‘reamembered’ Fitting, no?)
Your attempt, A. Tsotsis, to pervade ME (ME being your readers who took the time to let you know their opinion) as an uneducated Neanderthal Religious icon is pathetic. (Weren’t aware that’s how it comes across?? Read your article again.)
Certainly, if/when I voice an opinion on verbiage, I would expect to be taken seriously; or at the LEAST politely; definitely not cookie-cuttered and tossed! Now, (as I stated earlier) I was unable to post my outrage at seeing those headlines, but I did write a very long blog.
I deleted it when I viewed your rebuttal, in favour of this one. Apparently there were quite a few others who were able to voice their disgust/outrage/mirth.
The other bit of feedback I heard was that these posts weren’t thoughtful, or smart or somehow damaged the TechCrunch brand because they used swearing or weren’t 100% positive. Bollocks! Pasted from
BOLLOCKS? REALLY? You disagree with the large volume of readers that in choosing to allow lowly, gutter-snipe words to degrade the article it hasn’t damaged your brand? You decide that WE’RE wrong? You choose to belittle and brush your hand, as if to say, “Puh-leeeeeeeze. Grow up.”
Well, Ms. (Mrs?) Tsotsis, I invite you to do the same.
You DO realise its not a contest, right? If we, as readers, receive THIS type of treatment, we don’t HAVE to sit and listen; we can, and will turn you off. Yes, it DID lower your brand. Grow up, admit that it was unnecessary, and wrong. Apologise like a big girl and understand that if you P*SS-OFF your readers, your job no longer exists.
Try writing the “F” word into a week’s worth of blogs and see what the viewer count shows. Try it for two weeks; after all, you don’t seem to feel it’s an issue.
My guess is your readership will shrink significantly and your demographics will change. No longer will you have intelligent people following you. Think the barrage of so-called ‘non-sense’ regarding the “F” word was ‘childish?’
Wait until all that is following you IS children.
I certainly do expect you to apologise. I expect that, in a non-too-future-blog, an actual apology for treating this like ‘fluff’ will be present. I certainly DO NOT expect to see the “F” word or the “S” word or any other profanity in your headlines. Sometimes, okay, I will grant in the body of the blog/article, those words speak clearer than others; but not in the headline. That’s just pathetic.
I am only ONE reader who was unable to post my red-flags. I wonder how many others also wanted nothing more than to spout off, but for what ever reason were prevented as well? And how many friend’s they’ve e-mailed?
Any publicity? Sometimes. Preventable or damage-control? Possible. Continued ‘head-turning’ and ‘blindly-ignoring’? Death sentence.
Sorry folks, occasionally, I get REALLY angry.
I hope I haven’t offended anyone, PERSONALLY. Professionally, I hope my anger fell in the right places.
PS: I invite rebuttals and disagreement. EVERYONE is entitled to THEIR opinion; whether it’s wrong, or mine!
Truthfully, I don’t expect everyone will agree with me; nor agree with my arguments. That’s okay. I will still take remarks seriously. (In the manner in which they are presented.) Thanks for listening to my RANT…
- In: Creative Alphabet
- Comments Off on ENGLISH? Are you sure?
Wow! It’s almost 7 a.m.! I’ve been up for three hours! WHY? It’s Sunday. No need to get up early. Church begins at 10:30, but by that time I’ll be sleeping (or wishing I was sleeping) again.
I’m reading a book titled, “The Mother Tongue; English & How It Got That Way”, by Bill Bryson. You could be excused for thinking that you were going to be able to read this book, I mean: ENGLISH?
Ok, just for fun, here’s an ENGLISH sentence, (Kentish dialect, in about the 15th century), that I’ll bet 100% of Christian readers out there know and probably about, oh, say, 80%? of the rest of the literate world would recognise and be able to put it into context.
“And vorlet ous oure yeldinges: ase and we vorlete(p) oure yelderes, and ne ous led na3t, in-to vondinge, ac vri ous vram queade.” (Page 60)
Okay… all together now… “HUH?!?”
Firstly, a note. The (p) is actually a ‘p’ overtop/overlapping of a ‘b’. I’m not quite sure how to get that character, or even what the name of it is. Does that make any difference? Did it help you at all???
The ‘3’? Uhm, well, it is/was a 3. It extended down a little beyond the ‘bottom’ of the line, but, uh, ya, it is/was a 3… (no more help there.) We’ll come back to this sentence later, (I want to tease you with it for a bit; humour me!)
This book, (of which I’m only about half-way through) is actually interesting. In a dry sort of way. The first chapter was truly amusing. (Well, to me, anyway.) And then it gets down to the meat. I prefer dessert.
Having said that, it really is fun to read how English almost wasn’t! How it was only with (typical) British stubbornness that English came to be at all.
How we went from guttural sounds, Ugh; Uh; Ya; Ye; Yi; (Sounds like teenagers to me!) to sentences: “Me go food”; “You come”; “Me Hungry”; (still with the teenagers…) and the like; to real words: “axed for mete and specyally he axed after eggys”. The response? She replied that she “coude speke no frenshe.” (page 59)
I’m looking forward to getting through the rest of the book so I can learn more inane facts and follies!
That line above? It’s the last sentence of The Lord’s Prayer; “And forgive us our trespasses…”
NOTE: Although, I believe the author is wrong. My own interpretation of this seems to be, “And forgive us our debts/trespasses as we also forgive our debtors/trespasser’s, and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from the evil one,” Wonder how I can find out who’s (whose?) correct?
His book, I guess he’s correct… lol!
- In: Creative Alphabet
- Comments Off on WHY CAN’T I STAY IN ONE TIME-ZONE???
It is frustrating.
I write; go back and read. When, exactly, did I switch from ‘gets’ a coffee, to ‘got’ a coffee? When did I ‘jump up’ and ‘shouted’? Where did I ‘went’ and ‘get’ in the same sentence???
First-person, present tense; points of view; perspective?! It is so very hard to stick with a singular method throughout. I toss my hands up and scream in abject discouragement!
Of course, I toss my hands up whenever I have to figure out what style I’m writing in; and yet it’s so very important to understand.
As the story unfolds through the eyes of a character, an author must remember not to give credibility to something the character doesn’t know. I know it’s hard to stay in one ‘head’. I want to tell you something, but, ‘oops – can’t do that – you won’t find that out for a few more chapters’. Hence, I’m constantly going back, re-writing sentences; paragraphs; chapters! I start using those pronouns (I think, I never could figure out sentence structure) that don’t belong.
(The AUTHOR obviously knows.) We can infer; postulate; assume; hypothesise; imagine; conjecture; put forth; surmise; speculate; suppose… Am I getting my point across?
I look at Dick. I know he remembers he left the stove on. Does he now? How, the heck, do I know that? (First-person I, not I, me – the author; I – me the character)
I look at Dick, who, jumps up and shouts, “I’ve left the bleedin’ stove on!” Well, NOW I (the character) KNOW. Now, I can reveal that to the firemen later when they ask about the fire, and probable cause. I can say, with all honesty, “Well, I do know Dick said he left the stove on.”
Note: I can’t say the stove was left on, because I don’t KNOW that. I only know that Dick SAID he left the stove on.
For some reason we just can’t KNOW what’s in another’s mind. I know; I don’t get it either. I mean, is it or is it not MY book? Are they or are they not MY characters? Of course, I know what’s in her mind!
Ah-Ha! Yes. YOU (or rather I) do. Your (my) character, alas, does not. Unless she is a sikick…pshi…pcshyc…phsyicic…mind reader… Characters have to play by the same rules as the rest of the world.
Silly little rules. Nevertheless, important. Dang rules.
I am the biggest rule breaker, I think. I have always had a rebellious streak. Still, even I can’t get away with re-ordering the entire language. (I don’t know why… all language started somewhere…) I have to follow the rules, or at least be aware I am breaking them. (That is sometimes enough to give leeway; when you know you’ve done it wrong, but it’s done that way purposely, it somehow makes it right. Re-read that if you didn’t get it.)
If I am the only one who will ever read my epics, then sure, I write without care or caution. Who wants that? What author only wants themselves to read their works; their art! So, yes, I must restrain my rebellious ways and modestly follow as many rules as I am able, before my spirit takes hold again and winds a whisper of smoke around my imagination; the tantalizing aroma of the fire drawing me away from the order and structure into anarchy and re-writes…
It is hard to control the imagination. Some days, your most valiant efforts are simply not enough and whatever you were planning had best be set aside; for no amount of scolding will draw it from the edges of time and play, where alternate realities roam freely, waiting to be attached to comfortable, familiar thoughts and governed into neatly ordered compartments; before refusing to fit.
Yes, dear friends; I am struggling with what it is I’m struggling with! Who is speaking? Who is guiding? What is the compelling goal? What is the best way to convey information? Figure this out and you will have found your voice. Your point-of-view. Your Perspective. Pay attention to it and guard it closely, for when you least expect it… it will abandon you… like a playful Sprite… it will be back… if you’re nice… And have a lock-box ready…
PS: For those who are going to complain; I’m sorry, my brain mis-fired and won’t let the information I want out. I’ve decided I’ll drag it out another day, for today… this is my brain… (Maybe I need to change the blog name… This is my brain? This is my brain on words? Come back brain. Come back…) Tomorrow… will get here soon enough, don’t rush it!
- In: Creative Alphabet
- Comments Off on WHAT THIS WRITER HATES MOST…
A sleepless night. Or, to be more precise, a restless night. You know, where there’s no REASON you shouldn’t be asleep. You’re tired. You’re eyes are closed. But your brain refuses to leave that last chapter; paragraph; sentence. You replay the scene and yup! There it is! The sentence you should have used. Now, if that sentence goes there, then that changes the timing of the accident; which means that chapter two will need to be re-written; and then the end of chapter one…
Do I really need to change that sentence?
Sleep would come a lot faster if we’d just get up, go to our word processors, (Okay, pull them off the night stand), change that sentence and realise it was the right one after all. It’s chapter two that has to go!
We’re afraid to erase a thousand words, as if, once gone, we’ll never be able to use them again! It’s true that they’ll never fit together the same way they did the first time, but trust me, those words still exist and can be used over and over. (Yes, even I’m sitting here not quite believing myself…)
It’s frustrating to have an idea, and be so eager to get it down that we pay little heed to where the idea is going, just write… Then, with a hundred-thousand words staring at us, we sit back, scratch our (thankfully, now) empty little heads and wonder, “Where the heck was I going with this?”
Unfortunately, every story needs an exciting beginning, a meaty middle; and the all-elusive, dramatic end. Beginnings are easy. Middles? A breeze! Endings? Tying all the loose ends together? Making sure that Uncle Percy really WAS in the vicinity of the bathroom when that stink bomb went off? THAT’S the hard part. And, sometimes starting from the end just confuses things…
Even well established authors and editors miss important little things. They’d like you to think they don’t/didn’t and it must have been re-done at the printers. They’d like for you to believe that. Just, to use ONE example, of a well-known novel and best-seller, “Robinson Crusoe”.
Anyone remember when he swims, naked, to the ship to get supplies? Anyone remember where he puts those supplies he needs to bring back? Yup. Big glitch here. He puts them in his ‘britches pocket’. You remember; the ones he left on shore? For years this has gone unnoticed; or at least, unremarked upon. How embarrassing as it now comes to light?
And that’s why writers lay awake at night wondering if we really did think of everything. Or if we are strong enough to delete the, now one-hundred forty-thousand word epic novel, or maybe, if we just broke it here…and here, and add a bit on either end, possible a trilogy? Is that ending strong enough? Do we really need for the hero to lay waste to the whole village? Does the evil villain need to die, or can he disappear, ready to reappear should readers clamour for book four?
So many fickly-prickly little nuances; and with the hope of selling a million or more copies of your work; you’d better pick every nuance and make it perfect…
That’s what I hate most… critiquing my own work…
PS: Tomorrow…grandmer…gramer…grammer…an’ speeling…