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A tentative blog to test the temperature. |
Carry You Home It’s not often I respond to these Media Prompt Challenges as the songs tend to be too recent to fit neatly into my own taste. But, every now and again, a song more to my liking comes along and I find I actually have something to say about it. This month’s is a little ditty called Carry You Home by Alex Warren. It’s a catchy little number that starts out sounding like a folk song but then explodes into a toe-tapping belter that is as inoffensive as possible these days. I haven’t concentrated on the lyrics, the rhythm and beat being the real point of the song, but it seems to be a promise to carry some young lass home for the rest of her days. Seems reasonable, if a little exhausting. And that’s really all I need to say about the song. It’s likable (at least, I like it) and I could listen to it a few more times without objection. But there’s the video to consider as well. Now this is surprisingly attractive, considering that it consists mainly of a couple dancing to the music. The dance is fairly energetic and well performed but it’s the character that hits home. Both dancers are extremely capable and expressive, giving real meaning to the song as they move. Utterly concentrated on each other, they create a romantic mood that dominates the scene to the extent that the song fades into the background. Ultimately, all that matters is the beat, supplying the timing of the dance as it does. Which sounds as though it might be too powerful to allow the song to sell itself. Surprisingly, that is not the case - I found myself enjoying the whole performance and liking the song in spite of distractions. So that’s my take, anyway. Word count: 300 |
Landscapes As a young man, way back in the mists of time, I had a dream of a landscape of rounded, rolling green hills, treeless and covered with a short, richly green grass, that went on forever. Small, clear streams wandered through the valleys between the hills and the sky above was always cloudless and blue. Many years later, I found that landscape in the environs of Pietermaritzburg in Natal, the easternmost province of South Africa. Not only were the hills exactly as I had imagined them, they continued for long miles all the way into Zululand, far beyond the horizon. There is a place near Maritzburg that is called the Valley of a Thousand Hills and that is an underestimate. When I had the opportunity to walk those beautiful hills, however, I found that it was not quite as I had imagined. Although verdantly green, the grass was tough and hard, too prickly to sit comfortably upon. The soil between the grassroots was also stony and sharp, conflicting with that first impression of a soft, somnolent landscape. Some time later, my dream of grassy hills was replaced with another. This was of a dry, cold planet where the wind whipped fiercely across the plain, eternally wearing at the land until the planet became a featureless, smooth globe, an endless landscape of leveled and polished rock. There were a few imperfections, however. In just a few places there remained cracks and deeper valleys beyond the reach of the wind and in these were small streams that could support a sparse vegetation. Here, too, I imagined that people could live, scratching at the bottom of the valleys to raise just enough food to ensure survival. Above them, the jet stream howled its way across the crack, knowing that time was on its side - that one day it would erode down to the level of the deepest valley and all would be left unblemished. The planet would become a perfect stone ball-bearing, rolling forever around a pitiless sun. On very rare occasions, however, the wind would drop and would allow the people to climb up to gaze across the empty plain. At these times it would be possible to journey across to visit other small communities in other narrow depressions. The people would have to hurry, knowing that the wind could return at any time. To be caught by that wind on the exposed plain was death. Perhaps this dream explains my apparent obsession with flat landscapes. Word count: 414. |
Of Whirlpools Not having any ideas for today’s post, I reread the heading to this blog. That made me realise another effect of the blogging 7-day badge - it drags one deeper into the blogging whirlpool! Not saying that it’s a bad thing but just that it’s a way of looking at it. Word count: 50 |
The End of the World I wrote a comment today on Damon Nomad’s newsfeed post about the latest asteroid that came close to hitting the earth. As my comment stated, I have become tired of the scientists’ constant attempts to induce panic in us because “the world is about to end.” My point being that, if the world really is about to end, then there’s nothing that can be done about it (or it wouldn’t be true in the first place). And it’s not just about asteroids. We have been told for decades that one thing after another is about to bring life on this planet to an end and yet, here we still are. In fact, we seem to be doing better than ever before. The net result of all this fear-mongering is that science itself is becoming suspect. After all, how many times do events have to prove these theories wrong before we realise that it’s overstated to the point of hysteria. In biblical times they would stone false prophets. We’d all live happier lives if we resumed the practice. Anyway, that’s my rant for the day. Word count: 184 |
First Post? The previous post was suggested by the arrival of the 7-day merit badge, of course. So, in a way, this one is the first post in a new era. And yet another occasion for me to feel guilty about posting so brief and inconsequential a post as this merely to cross off the day. |
Badges Those 7-day ones, in fact. Today we have an addition to the initial four - the one for blogging, either posting or commenting. It comes at a good time for me because it’s been a while since I lasted posted in my blog and I need something to motivate me. If the originals are anything to go by, this should get me posting daily. So now I have five badges to go for. And I’ll try, although I do wonder how long I can keep this up. The visiting one is no problem as I’ve always done that anyway. And the forum posting is easy too, thanks to Solace and her daily 8-line poem thing. Newsfeed posts or comments can be a bit of a pain since there are days when nothing springs to mind, and reviews are a hassle but easy once I’ve found the right piece to review. It’s the finding that can take much too long. I can see that thinking up a blog post every day is going to be a strain. There will be days when my post will be pretty short, I know. But it’s not really my style and I’ll feel like I’m cheating, no matter how pithy and amusing the short sharp post may be. Hopefully, I’ll try for as many longer posts as I can manage. And then there’s the final slight problem. Recently I managed to get all four badges due on the same day, Sunday. And now this comes along on a Saturday. I could wait a day to post this to the blog or just accept that I’ll have one badge on a different day from the others. And I know me - I’ll post as soon as it’s finished. I always do that. But the next time I’m too ill to keep up all the badges, I’ll orchestrate my return so they all happen at the same time. So there. Word count: 321 |
What’s With This Present Thing? I am currently reviewing at least one short story or poem a day, for reasons to do with 7-day badges (psychology works). In the course of all this, it has become apparent to me that there is a trend in WdC newbie work. More and more of them are writing in the present tense. Now, I’m not against writing in that tense - I’ve even been known to do the occasional piece myself. But I do find it interesting that so many new writers are attracted to it, apparently at least. To me it seems that writing in the past tense is easiest and, in the early days (if I can cast my mind back that far) the idea of telling a story in the present never crossed my mind. And that was probably because none of the books I read at the time were written in that tense. So what makes young writers gravitate in numbers to the present? Is it because they don’t read enough old time literature to have become used to the past? Or maybe the schools don’t deal with such things as writing in different tenses? Perhaps there’s something in the air and the culture is experiencing a shift that I can’t possibly understand due to my advancing age? I’d really like to know and, if anyone has any thoughts on the matter, I’d be interested to know. Until I begin to see the point in it, I will continue to advise young writers against spending so much of their effort in the present. A whole book written thus is a pain to read and even a decent length story can become quite tiresome in it. It just feels so natural to me to write in the past tense. Word count: 292 |
Dominik Dudek I haven’t done a music post for a long time so, when I discovered a rather good Polish musician today, I thought it would be good to share him (or rather they but I don’t know the young lady’s name) with my good writer friends (up to you whether you read that as good-writer friends or good writer-friends). Hence this post. The song is catchy, the lady’s voice is interesting, and he seems to have good taste in which songs to record - I’ve listened to several now. Anyway, let me know what you think. Word count: 94 |
A Story in a Sentence A black leather glove shucked hastily and lying in the passage to a desperate bedroom. |
The Value of Newsletters I read WdC newsletters. And I would recommend that you do too. Read as many of them as you can, get them sent to your email, and participate in commenting when appropriate. It’s surprising what can be learned from doing so. One of the less obvious things is that you find out about contests and challenges you’ve never heard of before. Only this morning, the first day of 2025, I found, through a newsletter, an interesting thing called The Bradbury. Attracted by the unusual name, I had a look and discovered the contest I’ve been needing all the years of my WdC membership. It’s for short stories, one a week. That is one heck of a tall order. But I need that kind of spur if I’m to achieve even the semblance of productivity. I need pressure! And this is the kind of pressure that I need, but know it will force me to deliver the goods. That may not be the kind of thing for you but read newsletters and you’re bound to find all sorts of thing just as interesting. And, in case you like the sound of it, here’s a link to "The Bradbury" ![]() Word count: 197 |