A tentative blog to test the temperature. |
| Santa and All That I held the whole matter of the existence of Santa Claus in the realm of the dubious (but useful) until I was twelve. I did not then decide on the facts available (they were, after all, contradictory) but stayed awake all night to see for myself. Having ascertained the truth from this experiment, I had the good sense not to noise it abroad and so ensured continuation of the tradition for a few more years. Interestingly, my son, Mad, managed to keep the thing going well into his late teens, even though we all knew that he knew and he knew that we knew. He was always a charming blighter... Word count: 110 |
| An Andrea-ism Another Andrea-ism: I saw this really cool status on Facebook today. I was going to re-post it here but it said that only 3% of people re-post. I checked and 3% already had. Darn it. |
| ClichĂ© I have come to realise that the clichĂ© is a much maligned creature. For so long we have reviled it, saying that it must not be used if weâre to write properly, that it should be cast out and something new and fresh substituted in its place. Yet, thatâs not always possible - sometimes a clichĂ© is still the best way to say something. But it goes beyond that, especially if you write poetry. The thing about clichĂ©s is that they come with baggage. Each of them is a clichĂ© because theyâve been used for years and have accumulated all sorts of moss in their lives, all of which now affects their meaning and means that they are positively obese with nuance, expression and adornment. And that makes them something special. They have become portmanteau words that say in a few words what it might take whole sentences to say otherwise. In poetry, thatâs extremely useful. The trick then becomes to use them in such a way that their value overcomes their familiarity (which, as we all know, breeds contempt). And that needs an example to demonstrate. Old Age Is it really yesterday already? Thereâs so much I had to say, and now the times are folded over with dreams so long forgotten and memories before us spread. Iâve honed my skills of long ago, filled up my drawer of things to keep, the rainy day may be tomorrow. Line count: 8 Free verse For Express It In Eight, 04.16.24 Prompt: Skills of yesteryear. See that "rainy day?" Itâs a clichĂ© because itâs part of a well worn saying - to keep something for a rainy day. So I can use it to say exactly that with two words instead of seven. The clichĂ© becomes a magical form of shorthand. We actually do this all the time: âgreat minds,â âjack of all trades,â the early bird.â And poetry can pounce upon such things and use it to say a mouthful. Thatâs what I think today, anyway. Word count: 337 |
| Music to My Ears How come everyone's music taste is eclectic? And why do we bother to ask, in that case? |
| Tomorrow Today Do you ever listen to peopleâs answers to the question, âWhat would you do if you ruled the world?â I do, although the answers always horrify me. People throw out ideas in magnificent confidence that just this one rule here or this tweak there would make things so much better. And Iâm sitting there thinking, âDid you ever think of the consequences of that action? Has it never occurred to you to wonder why it hasnât been done before?â Or, if it has, donât you know how it invariably goes wrong and results in the exact opposite of your intentions happening? No one ever seems to face the fact that weâre all human. That we donât have perfection in any way. That all our answers are inevitably flawed and will ultimately bring about disaster. âNo oneâ means you donât have special dispensation and the same goes for me. Both of us, if ever placed in that position would make the most awful mess ever imagined. And the reason is weâre human. So, unless weâre prepared to start by admitting that we havenât got a clue, weâre beaten before we start. The only way to mitigate our mistakes is to begin by preparing for the worst. We donât instigate anything until weâve already created the means to dismantle it hastily if it starts to go wrong. It is indeed a case of âwork out your salvation in fear and trembling.â Perhaps the best policy would be to duck the question by saying, âAbsolutely no idea, mate.â Word count: 255 |
| Favourite Misspellings # 1 I went to collage but only for a piece of paper. |
| Review, Anyone? Isnât it funny how your best stuff never gets reviewed. That they ferret out things youâve nearly forgotten and donât think much of, ignoring your beloved babies as though theyâd been hidden in a dark corner somewhere. Or maybe itâs just that we like the latest ones, the ones that have surprised us by actually being quite good, that we havenât had time to grow familiar with and so lose respect for. I know itâs true that I love the most recent ones the most and wish that Read & Review wouldnât keep digging around in the past. And itâs also true that when someone asks what Iâd like them to review, I have to think hard, run through the old portfolio looking for something, and always end up by suggesting the latest thing because I canât think of anything I like better. Of course there isnât - Iâve only just fallen in love with it! Still, itâs weird how they always pick the duffers, the ones that would be first to go in a port clear out. Perhaps itâs true that writers are terrible judges of their own work. Word count: 188 |
| Two Strings Like a soccer game, I am a creature of two halves. I was born to a mother and father of solidly working class (blue collar) stock, but grew up in a society that was uniformly middle class. As a result, I found myself in England with a foot in both camps, able to understand and speak easily with both sides of the English coin. I was even told at times that I was the ideal ambassador between the two (at the thought of which, I recoiled in horror). The really odd thing was that I was happiest when with my working class brethren. Though my upbringing had been so middle class, I loved the greater openness and straight talking of the workers. It helped that my colonial accent confused both sides and gave me easy access to their company. And now in America, my dual nature continues to assist. I love the company of those whose accents I can barely understand. Itâs music to my ears and they speak of life in terms that I recognise and sympathise with. They are even so uncomplicated that theyâll make no secret that they love my âBritishâ accent. I donât usually tell them that itâs really a terrible mixture of all sorts of accents. Iâm quite sure that people hearing and reading me would think me what the Brits call âposh.â But the fact is thatâs a veneer and my heart beats to a steadily working class rhythm. I love both lobster and sausages ân mash. So thatâs me in a nutshell. You could say that itâs no coincidence that, astrologically, Iâm a Gemini. Two for the price of one, I always say. Word count: 280 |
| Pardon my Ennui Recent scientific studies have proved that being a scientist involved in recent scientific studies increases the risk of leaping to ridiculous conclusions. |
| The Game of Thrones Thing I thought that GoT would be like a sort of Wonderland Challenge but on steroids. Turns out I was right - itâs on steroids, yes, but nothing like Wonderland. For a start, itâs as big or as small as you make it; itâs much more up to you than any challenge Iâve seen before. And the fact that weâre in teams means that youâre not just there for yourself; you have to take the team into account too. Again, that depends very much on how much of a team player you are. The one thing I was told about it before I joined is also true - itâs not really much to do with the book. The names are used here and there and there are a lot of vaguely medieval illustrations, but otherwise itâs based on everything in general and nothing in particular. These are just a few notes after Iâve been involved for a week and have begun to understand how it works. I want to see if I agree with them when Iâm done with it (thatâs if it doesnât kill me, of course - Iâm using it as a sort of slave driver for my own production). I might even update this occasionally. Do I like it? Well, I moaned a lot at first but thatâs just me at the start of any new venture. Iâm really beginning to enjoy it now. I think. Word count: 235 |