It’s on the tip of my tongue

Since one can never have too much extraneous information clogging one’s inbox, I’ve subscribed to the Wordcraft “Word of the Day” email. Many days the word is one I already know, or, since I don’t aspire to David Foster Wallacian writing, is too arcane to be of interest.

But yesterday’s email was kind of fun. The theme is untranslatable words: words that don’t exist in English but should. The email first introduced a book on this subject, “They Have a Word for It,” by Howard Rheingold, then gave the word of the day, the German Korinthenkacker (core-IN-ten-COCK-er): “a person overly concerned with trivial details, [Literally, ‘raisen-sh*tter’]”:

The Korinthenkacker is the guy whose desk has every item perfectly in place, neatly aligned. The Korinthenkacker is the guy who insists on figuring the precise to-the-penny amount (plus tax) owed by each of six people who have dined together at a restaurant. The Korinthenkacker, says Rheingold, is “anyone who couldn’t find a forest because he or she is too busy applying a magnifying glass to an inspection of the bark of one tree.”

I agree, a very useful word; I plan to bandy it about, liberally, the second it catches on :-)

Test your title

This website, Lulu Titlescorer, lets you analyze a book title and tell you how likely it is to be a best seller. My novel’s title came in at 69 percent. Too bad the manuscript has fallen down some agent’s rabbit hole, and to get it back, apparently I have to play a game of croquet with a flamingo for a mallet. Wish me luck, I’m going in. As soon as I finish this cup of coffee with the “drink me” printed on the side.

So you wanna write a novel

Chick lit novelist Mary Castillo is blogging about games would-be writers play. Example:

The more we talk about how we want to write a book, or how we just can’t seem to get into the characters, or whatever, the more reasons why one shouldn’t call oneself a writer. A three- to four-inch thick pile of paper that constitutes your manuscript is the real deal, baby.

Can’t argue with that ;-)

Happiness is

Getting a phone call and learning that someone appreciates your writing so much that they want to spend a lot more money so you’ll write lots more for them.

I am very, very happy right now. I don’t even care that the PO isn’t in hand yet. I am damn good at what I do. I love being appreciated for for being damn good.

The peril of abstract spaces

In the Toronto Star, Nicholas Hune-Brown surveys the way the ‘burbs have been depicted in literature and film, then veers off into his own, equally peculiar gloss.

He begins, reasonably enough, with this observation:

The North American suburbs of 2006 are a world away from the imagined suburbs of Cheever or Lewis. Traditional suburbs have grown and aged. Many of the once identical houses of Levittown and other subdivisions have now been customized and renovated. As developments on the urban fringe have become increasingly independent from their urban centres, the very existence of “suburbia” in the traditional sense has been questioned.

Fair enough. But Hune-Brown’s most earnest complaint is not that writers fall back on cliche when setting their narratives in the ‘burbs. It’s that they “ignore the real problems of suburban development,” that is, the “hideous” esthetic of the modern subdivision, segregation, and “sprawl.”

So. Hune-Brown would have writers jettison one set of the over-exposed abstractions, only to pick up another.

But that’s the wrong fix. I mean, think about it, a movie on the evils of sprawl? Characters adrift in emotional malaise because they they burn too much gas to get to work? And not only that, they have to drive past ugly 7-Elevens all the time, and don’t have ethnically-mixed neighbors?

“No ideas but in things.” William Carlos Williams. Anyone looking for artistic inspiration needs to start there. Not with abstractions, because beginning with an abstraction makes for lousy art, even if your abstraction is the political cause du jour.

50 photos later . . .

And I’m done, I’ve got everything together for the new book, 101 Dog Training Tips. Captions, even. Although Windows says my CD has only 48 objects. I guess I’ll have to re-check what I’ve done before I overnight everything to my editor on Tuesday.

I’m using the photo of my dog with her nose squashed up against the window. Most of the other photos I’m using are pretty utilitarian (luring a dog into a sit etc.) but there are a couple I like just as pics that I’ll post here sometime.

Now I’m kicking back, drinking a glass of wine (Chateau Lavagnac, mmmmmmm) doing a de-lurking surf, heh heh heh, finding some great blogs. You know who you are :-)

Update: Well, I take it all back. Now Windows has decided it can’t read my CD!!! :-(

Update 2: I composed a rant earlier tonight, then went back & deleted it after I’d cooled down, because I don’t really intend for my blog to be a space for tantrums. Sigh. But this hasn’t been pleasant. It’s now 1:20 am and I’m emailing my photos to myself so that I can burn a new CD, using my laptop instead of my desktop . . . what a pain.

“A fine volly of words, gentlemen,

“& quickly shot off.”

Dialogue from Two Gentlemen of Verona which I found last night, quoted in Peter Ackroyd’s Shakespeare: The Biography .

That’s now the official slogan of my blog, and as soon as I get a chance to tweak the site design some more I’ll (hopefully, lol) figure out a way to display it somewhere.

It captures the way I see blog writing perfectly, which is no doubt why, with only a week of this blogging business under my belt, I find myself blissfully addicted. I should mention that I’ve been a blog reader for years now, and have joined the conversation of various blogs by leaving comments, so I have a sense of the pacing of this medium. It’s a huge conversation and while on the one hand it’s too sprawling to be considered “topical” in the classic sense (there are plenty of people, today, blogging about last week’s news), on the other hand, unless you want to sit in your own little corner talking to yourself, you need to find spots where the interest is sparking and jump in to contribute.

I like the water cooler analogy of the blogosphere — it’s much more apt, not to mention respectful, than the “mob” analogy that some find so comforting — but it’s also wilder than the typical impromptu office chitchat. So it’s more like a crowded party, and the trick is to float, keep your ear cocked for the liveliest clutch of conversationalists, and be ready to fire off that oh-so-fine volly.