The Word

Word O’ Today

Gowk’s-storm – A storm consisting of several days of tempestuous weather, believed by the peasantry to take place periodically about the beginning of April, at the time that the gowk, or cuckoo, visits this country [Scotland.] Metaphorically used to denote an evil or obstruction which is only of short duration. — John Jamieson’s Etymological Dictionary of the Scottish Language 1808.

Whew! Whatta word!

Despite it being late April here in Michigan I believe we’re having a bit of a gowk’s-storm these next couple of days. Woke up to some fantastic thunder shaking my apartment this morning.

I’m also personally living in a bit of a gowk’s-storm. I’ve taken on a few too many projects, and I’m completely overwhelmed. But! I know it is temporary & that post June 18th 2011 everything will have settled once more…I hope.

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Published in: on April 26, 2011 at 7:43 am  Comments (1)  

The Scope of Things

Crumpled paper car, oops stepped on it. Heavy footed. Daddy! Daddy! Hand me the shovel. Curtis, sit down! Boy I said sit down. Drunkenly smeared lipstick, glossed over the stench of vodka and olives. Get off the fuckin phone Frankie. We gotta go back out, I lost my handkerchief at that diner. Technicolor Copters chasing quadrants of prehistoric amphibious elephants. I hid in the stock room reading Joyce and hoping I’d end my shift early since it was so slow. Nearly nothing had happened all damn day. I love jimmy. I do, and I will forever n ever. God I miss Jennifer. She moved away last year and I haven’t even wrote her a letter. Letters to the pope returned undeliverable since the fires at the Vatican last month. Month of lost souls. Souls often part ways with their body in order to search among the landscape for ripe soul fruits. Fruits of every shape and size were lining the vendors baskets, brimming over with sweet wet rinds and brilliantly red berries. Barry’s cousin Kimberly is a slut and a whore. Whore wrote down her hours for the day and left the brothel with Pimp and Ho to see what money could be made out on the streets. Streets of sticky asphalt lay melting under a merciless Georgia summer sun. Son I wont tell you again that girls goin ta make you a dead man. Man I aint never seen a bitch lookin like dat, so hot. Hot, that’s what it was all right, hot and damp and hazy enough to make the sky dance in your vision. Vision is what I needed, greater vision, broader scope. Scope mouth wash – kills just about everything and your grandma too!

Published in: on April 22, 2011 at 5:17 pm  Comments (3)  

Great Conversations

More great conversations happening over at BigAl’s Books & Pals!

Came across this blog on the differentiation of the Romance genre & Chick-Lit.

I openly admit to liking both, but prefer romance with a heavy bent towards the supernatural romance subcategory. More often than not there are great fantasy novels with a love story cleverly woven in.

Check out the discussion & make sure to stick with it until you get to Donna’s comment about romance genre statistics. They were a real eye opener!

The next time I go into the used book store and get the Stink Eye because I purchased a book from the romance section rather than the mystery, sci-fi/fantasy or some other more appropriate section I’ll be prepared to defend my preferences with some hard data!

Published in: on April 20, 2011 at 1:21 pm  Comments (1)  

Dry Spell

Last week was very busy, chaotic, etc. and led to a bit of a dry spell.

So to welcome back this week I have a Word O’ Today.

Clashmaclavers: low, idle, scandalous tales.

Those sound fantastic! I’d like a good round of clashmaclavers with a glass of wine please.

The Imagining the Fantastic convention was this past weekend. And it managed to make my Monday suck 10x more than any other Monday before. There wasn’t any way the day could possibly compare to that weekend. It was a moving & motivating experience, and my dearest wish is that I not allow myself to lose the momentum created in those two spectacular days of creativity & awe!

Published in: on April 19, 2011 at 8:15 am  Comments (1)  

My Diseased Heart

I tooka tooka trilling tillers of tuliping tundra cats.

I seem to really like writing alliterations when I cannot get my mind to think of a story. I wonder if there is anything psychologically significant about that. My “drinking something sweet” instead of writing problem fascinates me. I wish I knew more about what it says about the way my mind works. I wonder if it means something cool, like I was able to perform a difficult psychological manipulation unconsciously or if it means something bad like I have no willpower and am subject to creating all kinds of behaviors that hold me back from my greatest potential.

I’m really interested in writing my two new Wolf stories, but I am worried about it for two reasons- one is that they are long novel length story ideas again and I don’t believe I have the talent to create a project that long and make it interesting. And secondly I worry that the subject matter is too risqué for the average reader.

Elephant eels eat English muffins for Friday fiesta. Fricking frick mother fucker fools of fresh foods. Look into the eyes of a later day lover and see the unpleasant fate of your hungry soul. Folly and frivolity find themselves in the company of fellow foundries.

Mellow man, just keep chill. Don’t go wasting your mind on obsessive platitudes. Don’t make everyone happy, just make her happy.

Don’t mess with kids dude, or they will mess with your mind.

My wallet is the empty shell of a heart beating the last beats of a diseased existence.

Muy mangos. Mango pango pudding toots. Liver and beets with artichoke kale.

Is it ten minutes yet? I’m writing and writing and my internal editor is screaming inside my head that these little exercises will never work because I have nothing worth writing.

Published in: on April 8, 2011 at 11:37 am  Comments (1)  

Quill-Driver

Tuesday’s word:

Quill-driver – a clerk, scribe or hackney writer.

This word prompts some pretty accurate imagery. I imagine someone hunch shouldered jamming the tip of an old school feather quill into parchment and writing feverishly. Or, more contemporarily someone surrounded by Mt. Dew Code Red bottles & clat clat clattering their keyboard until they’ve produced the self published title of the century.

Quill-driver.

Published in: on April 6, 2011 at 7:14 am  Comments (4)  

Over Stimulated

I’ve many different possibilities stimulating & titillating my mind at this time & all of them are demanding immediate attention.

So. I’m ignoring them all.

Here is a quick snapshot of my head right now:

1. New apartment is a box city & needs to be organized. I know I will feel more relaxed & settled once everything is organized, but right now everything is at that particular state of chaos where one doesn’t know where to begin, & therefore avoidance is the most attractive solution.

2. Spring!!! My new space has many wonderful opportunities for plant development & I want to make sure I don’t miss out by not being prepared. However, I also don’t want to try to over do this season, for monetary reasons, and I want to leave myself room to grow every year.

3. My personal Goal has been set for the next year. I’m not a traditionally goal oriented person, so this is a very alien concept for me. I’m not even sure where to begin in my attempts to accomplish said goal.

4. The Wedding in the Park. Oh Lordy is this a biggin! Not only does it take much time to pull together but it robs me of many other resources as well – money, sanity, peace of mind, etc. I’m worried it will be an utter fail. And that no one will show up. Or I’ll run out of food. Or my dress won’t arrive…or worse it won’t fit!!! And finally – my parents (mostly Deb) might show up and make a huge scene, or they will fail to show up and that will be equally bad.

So yeah. All this boils down to 0 time & energy for my creative pursuits.

Unfortunately this has been the case since 2005, and I’m kind of sick of it.

~Bb

Published in: on April 3, 2011 at 12:16 pm  Comments (2)