Greetings, Fellow Authors!
Writing about writing always seems a little strange to me.
It seems a little like giving a public address about speech
making, doesn't it? That's not to say that I object to the
subject. I also don't object to the object, nor the adverb or
preposition, either. Though, with the preposition, it really
depends on just who is suggesting what.
In many ways, it is too bad that words are our only means to
communicate with others of our species, because they are such
squishy, slippery things and not well suited to the job they need
to do. We hear so many things that don't really make sense that
we get pretty good at decoding the meaning without listening
closely to the words. Our television shows, for example, always
insist that they were "Filmed before a live studio audience."
So, how many shows do you think are filmed before a DEAD studio
audience?
Surprisingly often, you can't tell what a word means and are
forced to guess from its context in a sentence. This crazy
system works most of the time, unless the word itself is unclear
or badly chosen. And that sort of guessing game can have some
strange results. The late FBI (Federal Bureau of Investigation)
director, J. Edgar Hoover, demanded a daily written report from
every field office, and he was a very tough boss and a stickler
for the smallest details. When one agent started typing lines
that were a little too long for the one-inch margins the director
demanded, Hoover scrawled a handwritten note on the page, saying
"Watch the borders!" Not sure of the meaning of the word, but
afraid to question the boss, agents started making phone calls to
send extra agents to posts near Canada and Mexico, just in case
that was what Hoover meant.
Worse yet, words and writing evolve and change as time goes
along, so a phrase that was perfect years ago sounds strange to
modern ears. In the old days, people would invoke the might and
power of the universe by saying things like "By Zeus!," or
"Abracadabra!" These days the phrase with that same meaning of
invoking mystical powers that you don't understand is: "I think
we need to call tech support."
Hello and Thank You to our many friends and supporters from
around the world, including: Etsuko Hori, Jerry Taff, Bruce
Gonzo, Jack Gervais, Tim McChain, Brian Siegl, Laura Hong Li &
Derek, Chuck Maray, Kerry Miller, Anna Macareno, Larry Sakar, Jim
& Beth Butler, Jan Michalski, Kerry Miller, Joshua & Anna Brink,
Harry Cherkinian, Helen Yee & Wayne Pocora, Yasmin & Meredith
Leischer, Josie, David & Tiffany Tong, Diana Lee, Peter J. Adler
and Gerry Kosobucki. We are all writers at one time or another
in our lives, even if all we write are notes or letters. There
is a magic in the process that allows it to carry our meaning
accurately most of the time. But when it doesn't, it's at least
good for a laugh.
Have A Great Week!
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"Some editors are failed writers, but so are most
writers."
- T. S. Eliot (1888-1965)
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FUR SAEL: SPEL CHEQUER. WERKS GUD!
----------------------------------
Education officials in England were concerned about literacy
in their schools. So they did what bureaucrats everywhere
imagine will fix a problem; they established a program. And that
isn't the only place they went wrong.
The action plan for the program sent 48,000 posters to
schools all over England. And, with every poster, they also sent
a lesson on spelling and grammar, since the word "vocabulary" was
mangled into "vocabluary" and students were urged to learn about
writing "though" their own work rather than "through" it.
Putting the best possible spin on the problem, an
embarrassed Department of Education spokeswoman told Reuters:
"We are pleased that the teachers are obviously reading the
posters." The department said that the posters would be
corrected and reprinted. They blamed the blunder on a "proof
reading error." (Reuters)
[ Of course. Someone read only 50 Proof
instead of 100? ]
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"When ideas fail, words come in very handy."
- Goethe (1749-1832)
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IF THE GOVERNMENT WROTE PROVERBS...
--------------------------------
- A mass of concreted earthy material perennially rotating on
its axis will not accumulate an accretion of bryophytic
vegetation.
- That predent avis that matutinally deserts the coziness of
its abode will ensnare a vermiculate creature.
[ We'll get back to this... ]
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ANALOGIES YOU WON'T FIND IN GREAT LITERATURE...
--------------------------------------------
Because it is so difficult to bend words to exactly the
meaning we are looking for, writers often paint a picture by
comparing one thing to another. These analogies are as common in
writing as raisins in oatmeal cookies. As bruises in a mosh pit.
As tattoos at a biker convention. As... Well, you get the idea.
Even great writers use analogies to carry their meaning.
But they aren't very funny when they do it. Here are a few
collected from high school students, who probably should have
known better. These tortured analogies are as silly as a
[Ouch!]... OK, I'll stop, now.
- He spoke with the wisdom that can only come from experience,
like a guy who went blind because he looked at a solar
eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it and
now goes around the country speaking at high schools about
the dangers of looking at a solar eclipse without one of
those boxes with a pinhole in it. (Joseph Romm, Washington,
D.C.)
- She caught your eye like one of those pointy hook latches
that used to dangle from screen doors and would fly up
whenever you banged the door open again. (Rich Murphy,
Fairfax Station, Virginia)
- The little boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the
way a bowling ball wouldn't. (Russell Beland, Springfield)
- McBride fell 12 stories, hitting the pavement like a Hefty
Bag filled with vegetable soup. (Paul Sabourin, Silver
Spring, Maryland)
- Her eyes were like two brown circles with big black dots in
the center. (Russell Beland, Springfield)
- From the attic came an unearthly howl. The whole scene had
an eerie, surreal quality, like when you're on vacation in
another city and "Jeopardy" comes on at 7 p.m. instead of
7:30. (Roy Ashley, Washington, D.C.)
- Her hair glistened in the rain like nose hair after a
sneeze. (Chuck Smith, Woodbridge, Virginia)
- Her eyes were like two brown circles with big black dots in
the center. (Russell Beland, Springfield)
- Bob was as perplexed as a hacker who means to access
T:flw.quid55328.com\aaakk/ch@ung but gets
T:\flw.quidaaakk/ch@ung by mistake (Ken Krattenmaker,
Landover Hills, Maryland)
- Her vocabulary was as bad as, like, whatever.
- He was as tall as a six-foot-three-inch tree. (Jack Bross,
Chevy Chase, Maryland)
- The hailstones leaped from the pavement, just like maggots
when you fry them in hot grease. (Gary F. Hevel, Silver
Spring, Maryland)
[ Remind me never to have pot luck at Gary's
house... ]
- Her date was pleasant enough, but she knew that if her life
was a movie this guy would be buried in the credits as
something like "Second Tall Man." (Russell Beland,
Springfield, Virginia)
- Long separated by cruel fate, the star-crossed lovers raced
across the grassy field toward each other like two freight
trains, one having left Cleveland at 6:36 p.m. traveling at
55 mph, the other from Topeka at 4:19 p.m. at a speed of 35
mph. (Jennifer Hart, Arlington, Virginia)
- The politician was gone but unnoticed, like the period after
the Dr. on a Dr Pepper can. (Wayne Goode, Madison, Alabama)
- They lived in a typical suburban neighborhood with picket
fences that resembled Nancy Kerrigan's teeth (Paul Kocak,
Syracuse, New York)
- John and Mary had never met. They were like two hummingbirds
who had also never met. (Russell Beland, Springfield)
- The thunder was ominous-sounding, much like the sound of a
thin sheet of metal being shaken backstage during the storm
scene in a play. (Barbara Fetherolf, Alexandria, Virginia)
- His thoughts tumbled in his head, making and breaking
alliances like underpants in a dryer without Cling Free
(Chuck Smith, Woodbridge, New Jersey)
- The red brick wall was the color of a brick-red Crayola
crayon. (Jennifer Frank and Jimmy Pontzer, Washington, D.C.
and Sterling, Maryland)
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GOVERNMENT PROVERBS...
-------------------
- A rolling stone gathers no moss.
and
- The early bird gets the worm.
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"Everywhere I go I'm asked if I think the university
stifles writers. My opinion is that they don't stifle
enough of them."
- Flannery O'Connor (1925-1964)
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WORKS BOTH WAYS...
---------------
Quote from a recent company newsletter in California:
"CONSERVATION CORNER
Each year the U.S. produces enough plastic film to shrink-
wrap the state of Texas, most of which can be recycled.
Please, keep recycling."
[ They are right, of course. Most of Texas
CAN be recycled, except for that oily, nasty
bit around Corpus Christi. ]
--:-)-----:-)-----:-)-----:-)-----:-)-----:-)-----:-)-----:-)--
AWARD-WINNING WRITING...
---------------------
See, that's exactly what I mean. You read that title and
thought it would be about something well-written and well-
constructed, right? But, just as room temperature depends on the
the room in question, winning an award may be either a good thing
- or, not.
Trust me, NOT is funnier.
In this case, that means the annual Bulwer-Lytton Fiction
Contest, which honors dishonorable writing in several categories.
The contest is named after Edward George Bulwer-Lytton, an
unfortunately prolific 19th century English novelist whose novel
"Paul Clifford" begins with the famous phrase: "It was a dark and
stormy night." Entrants in one recent contest came from all
around the U.S. and 14 foreign countries. The winner (?) was a
lawyer from Massachusetts named Bob Perry, who followed a recipe
of stale crime melodrama with a few overcooked food cliches in
winning the year's worst award. A sample? Sure:
"The corpse exuded the irresistible aroma of a
piquant, ancho chili glaze enticingly enhanced with a
hint of fresh cilantro as it lay before him, coyly
garnished by a garland of variegated radicchio and
caramelized onions, and impishly drizzled with
glistening rivulets of vintage balsamic vinegar and
roasted garlic oil; yes, as he surveyed the body of the
slain food critic slumped on the floor of the cozy, but
nearly empty bistro, a quick inventory of his senses
told corpulent Inspector Moreau that this was, in all
likelihood, an inside job."
Other award winners were:
ROMANCE: "My heart skipped a beat as the bearded walrus
gently nudged me in the small of my back with one smooth,
curved tusk, expelling a warm breath of air into my upturned
face, its smell of peanuts reminding me of that precious
night on Coney Island; the night when I became a woman ...
a woman and a convict."
- Alison M. Kelly, Vero Beach,
Florida.
WESTERN: "It was a majestic weapon, a masterpiece of form
and function, hand-crafted by master gunsmiths, accurate to
a 100 yards, its bright silver body and long barrel
glistening in the sunlight, the hand-carved ivory inlay warm
against the palm, and mom got a good dollar for it after my
brother was shot in the back."
- Terry Mayer, Oshawa, Ontario.
SCIENCE FICTION: "While the technician finished his work,
Elmodine Jaatrix reflected upon how badly the evening was
going: the ionizer on her Acme 2100 E-Z Klean dishwasher had
burnt out, the window-bot had developed an attitude and the
Instafashion clothing dispenser would only produce athletic
supporters and Calvin Klein IX synthawool peasant blouses,
and as she stared at the gibbous moon slowly rising in front
of her, she pondered morosely, `If they can build cities in
the rings of Saturn, why can't they make pants for repairmen
that don't droop?'"
- Hwei Oh, Australia.
SEX: "Meanwhile her ears were filled with the sound of a
soft but frantic gasping and it was some time before she
identified it as her own."
- From a book by best-selling author
Sebastian Faulks, winner of a
literary award for "the year's most
laughable description of sex."
HISTORICAL FICTION: "Hemlock wasn't all that bad, Socrates
decided philosophically: no after taste, a smooth finish,
and (of course) no hangover in the morning."
- T. O. Carroll, San Jose,
California.
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"The difference between fiction and reality? Fiction
has to make sense."
- Tom Clancy
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© 2000 by Bill Becwar. All Rights Reserved.
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