Darrowwood Part Eighteen

      18.

            Mr. and Mrs. Daniels exchanged glances.  “Your sister is coming for you when her mission ends,” Mr. Daniels said, bounding his son up and down.  The baby cooed.

            “No, my parents,” Monica repeated.  “We made arrangements for meeting them at the port.  Have they come back from their cruise?  Don’t tell me they’ve forgotten.”

Darrowwood Part Seventeen

  17.

This must be some sort of joke, Monica thought. She fiddled with her broken nail.  It really was singing, she could hear it and feel it as well as she could hear the blood rushing in her ears.  “Jenny – you know, my best friend since fourth grade and your eldest child – she convinced me to come to a preview at Darrowwood Preparatory with her.”

            “Darrowwood Prep, huh?”  Mr. Daniels said, taking up an absentminded pacing once more.  “I think I heard one of the boys say something about an old school not too far from here.  Burned down in the great fire twenty years ago, I think he said.”

            Monica clenched a fist.  “That can’t be, I was just there, with your daughter, Jenny, and we’ve been there for two weeks already and we need to get out of here before something really bad happens.”

            Mrs. Daniels had closed one suitcase and now returned to place her hand on Monica’s shoulder, speaking quite gently as she looked into the girl’s face.  “Dear, you must be confused.  We don’t have another daughter, although I have always considered you as one of my own children.  Ever since your family has lived next door to us, I’ve considered it a blessing to have some responsible young women like you and your sister look after my kids.”

            “I’ve never done that except with Jenny, Mrs. Daniels.  Don’t shake your head at me.  You’re joking, right?  Tell me that you’re joking.  My parents, call them.  I know they’re on vacation and all that, and they might be mad, but they’ll know what I’m talking about.  I haven’t been able to reach them on my phone, so we can try yours to see if there’s any difference.”
           She looked right to left at the smooth faces, trying to read the fine lines there.

Read the Last Part

Craft Wednesday #24 Disappointed Blogging Dreams

This blog needed a place for talking about writing. "Craft Wednesday" will be me talking about all things writing: how to write, why to write, and my own craft journey. I hope to learn and to share experiences with you. 

Disappointed Blogging Dreams

   I really expected this blog to turn out differently.

Being Seventeen

Seventeen sounds of
sunny slats and lettermans
wrapped around shivers.

Late Instability

Rain gathers
over a waning earth.

Strange
that it took
so long appearing.

Hotter suns stray
through ice, smoke.

Not long now.

Craft Wednesday #23 Common Spelling Variations

This blog needed a place for talking about writing. "Craft Wednesday" will be me talking about all things writing: how to write, why to write, and my own craft journey. I hope to learn and to share experiences with you. 

Common Spelling Variations in American and British Writing:

A Short Reference

    Reading a Thomas Hardy novel after skimming a book written by an American author raised some questions about when it is appropriate to use certain spellings of words.
    I think I had been wondering about the word toward/towards some months before, when I had been editing some of my own fiction. Something just didn't sound right. Of course, some of it had to do with the inconsistent use of spelling rules, but that was precisely the point on which I needed the clarification.
   So here, for your own short reference, are some of the perceived differences between spelling variations and why you might want to use a particular spelling instead of the other.

Darrowwood Part Sixteen

16.

            The inn in the town of Darrowdale was two stories, but the narrow wooden staircase leading to the upper floor filled a third of the available space.  Monica pounded on all of the doors until only one remained.  She took a steadying breath and rapped on it, causing green paint bits to fall on the supple floorboards.  “Mr. and Mrs. Daniels?  Are you there?  It’s Monica.”

Darrowwood Part Fifteen

    15.

As she approached the earthen crack, Monica thought she saw a glint in the dirt.  A bit caked over, perhaps, but it was most definitely a shining token that was either guilded or bronzed.  She kicked at it, but it would not loosen. Jenny approached and scratched its outline in the dirt with her hooked toenail.

            “Wow, it’s singing,” Jenny gasped.  The point of her big toenail rested on top of the loosened item, which Monica now saw was not a coin, as she first thought it might be, but some sort of jewelry.

            “Don’t touch it.” Monica kicked Jenny’s toe, scowling. “You don’t know what that is.”

So Serious Saturday #20

Fiction needs a basis in reality. Exercising non-fiction muscles once in a while benefits an active imagination, channeling creative energies as it focuses on a subject. So Serious Saturdays will be an active place for critical essays or writing about reality in the context of real events - even when it is not written on Saturdays.

Type: Discussion/Exercise

Knowing and Believing

Sometime ago I looked at proof and truth by using illustrations from 1984. Today I fulfill my promise to talk "about knowing and believing and the differences between them".

Hats On

     "Look, he's just looking at us over there."
     I turned my head where she had pointed, and I nodded.
     He was still staring, with heavy eyes, as we passed his gate.
     Mom and I walked a while longer.
     The molten sunlight ran over our chins, which our broad-rimmed hats did not cover.
     Even the dogs stayed quiet in this heat.

Craft Wednesday #22 Honestly London Part II

This blog needed a place for talking about writing. "Craft Wednesday" will be me talking about all things writing: how to write, why to write, and my own craft journey. I hope to learn and to share experiences with you. 

Honestly London

Part II

      The fact about modern authors is that they are different than Jack London on several key points:

     Writers are created differently today. American public school students read far more authors writing post-Hemingway than any other kind of writer, heavy on minority and women writers. 

     Reading authors that have been ignored in past centuries is a noble pursuit and raises interesting and unique conglomerations of ideas, but the unity of the old academia, which made for educated discussion among those initiated into structured education, is split by the sparser material read in common by those persons called scholars than in previous eras.

Swept Away: London Proser

London Proser

or

Mocking How The Prose of Author Jack London Sounds When Read Aloud

     

     My grip tore loose from the hard siding upon the waves' breaking over the deck. The boat tossed to port, and flung me fast overboard.
     Water entered my body and breath and, through a wondrous chemical process, changed into fire. My extremities burned into my core; my heart struggled to find its natural beat.
     In the twisting and turning of the water I found myself not in fire, but in ice. My thoughts took on a glacial quality; their slow passage chiseled fjords though my conscious isle.
     As I sunk into the fathomless black depths I fancied I saw a glow above me -- whether at the surface or no, I knew not; for I knew not where the sea ended and the sweet air existed -- with a broad halo growing larger and larger until I felt I must be swallowed by what seemed to be a harbinger of death.
    The sea must have seethed with foam and crests, but I felt no tossing or swirling; only a still, but a firm hold caught me under the arms and swung me toward the glow.

Read the Next Part

So Serious Saturday #19

Fiction needs a basis in reality. Exercising non-fiction muscles once in a while benefits an active imagination, channeling creative energies as it focuses on a subject. So Serious Saturdays will be an active place for critical essays or writing about reality in the context of real events - even when it is not written on Saturdays.

Type: Persuasive

Water, Water Everywhere:

We Use More Than We Think

     How long do we stand in the shower and let the water run? How often do we throw out perfectly good water that someone or something, somewhere, can use? 

     For these and legitimate uses, water and other resources are being used faster than they can be replaced. KABC 7 news reviews the supply of California's water on a weekly basis, or in their online photo galleries.

     The depletion of the reservoirs should be a concern for everyone; forget about not having water for the next generation (but really, please don't forget), the drought-stricken regions of California and Miami need to be concerned about using up all stored water in the next five years. 

     Some ways to start saving water right now are:

Empathizing Incomplete at a Fast Food Counter

We ask for your patience
in letting us speak, on
deciding what to order from the board
filling the width of the room.

Today my mouth is slow
to say what I want; I
know what     I want     to have and see,
     to explore and become.    It takes time,

in processing phrases
and the words that break them.

Inferno on the Fifteen

Newscasts featured an apocalyptic movie.
People ditched their vehicles
on the freeway in thirsty California.

Drifting embers ignited thirty --
destroyed twenty -- cars.
Fire broke out in patches
unrelated, like middle school fights.
My jaw fell open

when flames leaped onto a car carrier
to claim new purchases.
A semi-truck's engine exploded;
smoke billowed from its hood.
Helicopter cameramen captured
sheer heat methodically melting rubber
and metal from cab to tail lights.

I wondered what
a volunteer was thinking
as he doused heat-scarred cars
with a large garden hose.

Craft Wednesday #21 Honestly London First Half

This blog needed a place for talking about writing. "Craft Wednesday" will be me talking about all things writing: how to write, why to write, and my own craft journey. I hope to learn and to share experiences with you. 

Honestly London

Part I

     I checked out of my local library an audiobook of The Sea Wolf by Jack London, and two discs in I am struck by the wordiness of his prose.

     Where modern writers and speakers would cut and abbreviate words and explanations, London expands and adds vocabulary native to advanced education. The main character and narrator of The Sea Wolf is a gentleman with a superior education, but to my ears the character-centered explanation did not quite cover all the reasons why Jack London can write in a nearly pedantic manner and get away with it, while modern writers using the same elevated language seem too snobbish for the average reader to want to connect with. 

     Essentially, I was asking: How can Jack London write like that, but modern authors can't?

A Unicorn's Tale, Epilogue

13.

Epilogue

     I stayed on with Mikey’s organization for three years. I ran candy across the oceans, helped Spartacus with erasing human memories concerning our kind, and placed bets for Mikey as he trained new superstars. He succeeded in gaining back half of his lost fortune by the time that I left his employment.
     You see, I had a feeling that something was here for me in Los Angeles County. In two years of soul-searching I guess I have discovered some of what I was looking for. I go places I used to frequent as a foal and try to look for lost or orphaned unicorns. If they want, I steer them to Mikey in his new Dubai headquarters, the Monte Carlo of the unicorn economy. Sometimes I teach them how to bounce, like Larry first taught me – well, similarly. I stay away from the bars and concerts. It’s just too painful.

A Unicorn's Tale, Part 12

12.

     Discussion was quick, the decision short and clear. Mikey was allowed to continue training and managing competitive bouncers, but not betting on any of the races. Any candy he earned would have to be proportional to the time he spent earning it. Larry was forbidden from all bouncing events, betting tables, and any cities where Mikey currently resided. The lifetime ban from these items was followed by a solemn dehorning ceremony. Larry was defined as a bad unicorn, an oxymoron none of the authorities wanted to perpetuate. He was ordered to five years living as a petting zoo pony until his horn grew back.
     As for me, I was also banned from the professional bouncing circuit. No one could definitively prove that I was not involved in the betting fraud, especially with some big losses right before my ultimate winning streak. The numbers were not on my side.