INKBLOTS – August 9, 2011
Domaine du Saint-Antoine. Six men tonight. Doug talked about his research on agents, how it works, and the obligations expected of authors marketing their books. He opened a facebook account today. Website next. I’m thinking after today (a frustrating one of multiple interruptions while writing, including social-networking ones, a nice way of saying many largely self-imposed distractions).
I read from Doc M’s piece he was asked to write for covenanteyes.com. He gives us a short commentary on the gospel episode with Jesus and the woman at the well. What Source of Water Will it be for You, is his title. Graham wanted to clarify the meaning of the title. Others wondered if the title couldn’t use some clarifying. A sermonette, until the final ending. Well written with clarity.
Aaron says, “Am I allowed to talk now?” What a crack up. We suggest that first-timers listen in and get the feel of how things go in our gathering. He read a list of factoids, humorous ones: “John has a long moustache,” was a code phrase of the French resistance in WW II. More than 50% of people in the world have never sent or received a phone call. Things like that. Elephants are the only people who can’t jump. Donkeys kill more people than airplanes. Shortest complete sentence in the English language: “Go!” Thank you Aaron (John, his dad).
Dave working on new-old project about the healer. He was approached by WinePress, to do a guided self-publishing of his futuristic thriller, approved for publication by Writers Edge. He thinks he’s going to go with WinePress. Avenger of Blood, next vignette. There’s a folksy, down-home quality about his writing. And there is a .45 and a Bible, not necessarily in that order. The idea for this book is forming, first person, sketches, confessions he (the fictional healer, not Dave, I think) needed to get off his chest.
Graham reads us a sample of what he writes for livestrong.com. He read a book by Ray Bradbury in which he said to be a good writer you have to read poetry. So Graham subscribed to a poem a day on line, and so far he doesn’t get any of it, his words (see more on poetry below). But he continues to read. An article on supplement use in the military. For on line writing he is supposed to use key words, like navy seals, so that it comes up on the google search. Research article. Curious where he gets his authorities, mostly on line sources? I’m thinking so. G had a question for us. He feels like he gives three examples when listing. John seems to feel marginalized tonight. “Graham, why when you ask advice of the experienced writers in the room you didn’t look my way?” Doug suggested using a creative non-fiction episode to illustrate some of the points Graham was making. Dave mentioned M&Ms being a military “supplement” used in WW II. Graham was furiously clicking keys with the input. Uses google scholar search engine for most of his sources.
We talked about poetry and how frustrating it is. So much modern poetry frustrates, and in many cases it does so because the poet was at war with meaning, and we read it trying to find out what it means, when it means ‘life is absurd and so is this poem.’ Which is a sort of an a-meaning, but is this accurate, does it fit the nature of things in a real world? Sure things do seem absurd, but how would we even know there was a thing like absurdity if there was no meaning? As C S Lewis puts it, fish don’t get up in the morning and comment on how wet the water is today. Water is wet. Fish live in water. What is is not worthy of comment. Poetry that sets itself above meaning makes me frustrated. There’s no reward for the reader, unless he too wants to superimpose his individual meaning over everything he reads. I suggested reading William Cowper or the other Will. These guys really did write brilliantly employing figurative language to explore and adorn meaning, yes, real meaning. Spend your limited poetry reading time reading poets who believed that life is supposed to have meaning, then you can read and know that there is in fact something to ‘get’ in the end. If poetry does not awaken understanding and appreciation of the nature of reality in a real world, why read it? Unless I just want to get inside the head of a guy who wants his individual ‘reality’ to trump the real reality, the true truth. But let’s call it something other than poetry.
John reads his contemporary fiction. “What are you calling about today?” That doesn’t sound like the way people who know each other would speak. “What’s up?” “How can I help you?” “What can I do for you?” Recast when you have Andy feel sick to his stomach. “Sounding defensive but unsure of herself.” But? The relationship is not one of contrast, is it? It seems like closer to an and comparison rather than a but comparison. Much improved on body language, showing not telling. It flows well.
Dougie reads a chapter that employs swearing in the context of the 36th Texas Division, reforming after the Battle of Salerno, November, 1943. There is so much authentic repartee between the soldiers, as if Dougie actually knows what he’s writing about, as if he’s been there done that. Hmm. The unbelievers were preparing to hit Naples for partying and womanizing, while the Christians, mixed denominations, are off to visit Catholic churches in the town. Out loud reveals syntax that doesn’t work. “One of them is crying” not are. Shows the poverty and deprivation of war in Italy. Good use of smells, fuel and sewage. “Never seen anything like this in Texas.” Try being more specific about the stone work, statues of what? Relics of what? But not clinical description, the awe-inspiring qualities of medieval architecture. Kneeling by their dead bodies, recast this for clarity; antecedent to ‘their.’ Is it their own dead bodies they’re kneeling by? Develop the children a bit more. Make the reader feel the tears the young fellow among them sheds; this did not connect. Do you need attributions for your first-person point of view’s thoughts? I don’t think so, in general. I like how you have the men on R&R finding themselves helping the locals dig out of the rubble, and coming back for more the next day. Avoid clichés as in “through the roof.” The delayed bombs that go off when the civilians are searching through rubble looking for their dead, and then the bomb goes off and people helping others are killed. Islamists do this today. I think every people, whatever the stripe, feel this is great evil. We discuss using language, such as “God damn those filthy Krauts,” said by a Christian when he sees the death of people (include children victims and the swearing will seem still more appropriate) who were trying to help others and were killed by the delayed bombs of the Nazis. When, if ever, should we include swearing in our writing? What is our purpose in doing so? Authenticity, cross-over appeal to unbelieving readers—is there a legitimate time for this? If so, when and how?
I didn’t read a chapter from Anglo-Saxon tale. After a tough day of writing, or of not-writing. Back at it in the morning.