You are currently browsing the monthly archive for September, 2008.
I can’t remember where I ran across this bit of information, but there are people on Twitter who are using Twitter to write novels, one tweet at a time. Here’s the first Twitter novelist I ran across:
N. L. Belardes – His novel: Small Places
By typing “novel” into the search feature of Twitter, I found the following:
This one has just been started:
This one, called The Hitchhiker, appears to be finished.
According to this article on ReadWriteWeb, the equivalent of producing Twitter novels is hugely popular in Japan, but hasn’t quite caught on in the United States. I’m not sure why. After all, novels are all produced the same way – one word after another, one sentence after another. Why not one tweet after another?
I signed up for a Twitter account last night. What is wrong with me, anyway? Like I haven’t given myself enough to do online. Here’s the deal with Twitter – the whyfores and whereofs of my joining: My favorite part of Facebook, other than keeping up with Daughter (and now Hubby – he joined last night), is the feature wherein I simply state what I’m doing or how I’m feeling. That’s Twitter in a nutshell. You get 140 characters to answer the question, “What are you doing?”
Twitter is to blogging as haiku is to poetry. It’s micro-blogging. Writers love the sound of their own voices on the page. Some of us are verbose. Learning to write concisely, cutting right to the point, takes practice. Twitter is practice.
I’m also considering using my Twitter account for an online looking-at-the-future game called Superstruct. Not sure yet what all Superstruct entails, but comments on its Facebook page hint that a Twitter account, blog, or wiki are ways to participate. The game is due to start October 6 and will run for 6 weeks.
I’ll tell you what we need in the future – one dashboard for all of our online accounts. Sheesh!
P.S. Maybe I like the idea of Twitter because both Twitter and tweeting remind me of birds. Hmmm.
I figured it was about time to get myself a new email address. I’ve been using sootch (at) gmail (dot) com in association with The Woo Woo Teacup Journal, but that was selected to go with my old blog, Filter & Splice. (Sootch was short for sutures, which is something that can be used to splice things. Think Frankenstein, here, as in Frankensteining the Talent Pool, the source of inspiration for my original blog.)
Now that I’ve been going strong on The Woo Woo Teacup Journal for close to a year (my blog’s birthday is October 23), I decided to coordinate my email address with my blog name – kinda like coordinating my socks with my shirt. Here it is, my new email address:
woowooteacup (at) gmail (dot) com
Time to update your address books! I just hope I’ve managed to change my email address on all the accounts I have open.
Manoj tagged me for this meme. I see that one of the rules is that I can replace any question I don’t like with a new question. I also see, in looking at the questions, that a whole lot of them are relationship-based and I can dispatch many of them by saying that I am married to the most fabulous guy in the world, that we are best friends, that we have a high degree of trust, that we give all to our relationship and that we’ve been together for over two decades, so I think we’re doing something right. I’m going to switch out many of those sorts of questions (although I’ll put the originals in parentheses as Manoj did) and go from there.
RULE #1 : People who have been tagged must write their answers on their blogs and replace any question that they dislike with a new question formulated by themselves.
RULE #2 : Tag 6 people to do this quiz and they cannot refuse. These people must state who they were tagged by and cannot tag the person whom they were tagged by. Continue this game by sending it to other people.
(Frankly, I don’t care if the tagged ones refuse to take part in this meme. Honestly, we don’t need bossy memes telling us what to do in our lives. I’m also cool if you want to only answer half as many questions. Twenty questions is a lot. It’s taken me the better part of any hour to complete this meme, which is why I didn’t do it sooner.)
1. If you have pets, do you see them as merely animals, or are they members of your family? (Original question: If your lover betrayed you, what will your reaction be?)
Members of the family, of course. We have three cats, each with a distinct personality. We love them dearly and would be very sad without them.
2. If you can have a dream to come true, what would it be?
To be able to make a living off of my writing.
3. What is the one thing most hated by you?
Blatant hypocrisy. Not an honest change of heart about a situation, but someone who believes that you should live as they say, but then lives life in exactly the opposite way and makes excuses for that.
4. What would you do with a billion dollars?
Pay off our debt, put a bunch (A BUNCH!!!) in savings, pay for our children’s education, give some to charity.
5. What helps to pull you out of a bad mood? (Original question: Will you fall in love with your best friend?)
Kvetching and distraction. My favorite distractions are listening to music, reading, and watching movies.
6. Which is more blessed, loving someone or being loved by someone?
Both are blessed positions to be in.
7. What is your bedtime routine? (Original question: How long do you intend to wait for someone you really love?)
Hubby and I trade foot rubs or back rubs. I don a nightshirt, get a drink of water or a small snack, use the bathroom, kiss the kids (and Hubby, if he’s staying up later than I am), then turn on the fan in our bedroom and hop into bed. I write an entry in my daily journal and I might read for a bit, unless I’m really tired. Then, it’s light’s out.
8. If you are currently in a relationship, how did you meet your partner? (Original question: If the person you secretly like is already attached, what would you do?)
Hubby and I knew each other in school – elementary to high school. Hubby was best friends with my brother. We didn’t date until after high school, however. At some point, I asked my brother to see if my Hubby would ask me out on a date. We were engaged a few months later. Hubby had no idea I had put a bug in my brother’s ear until after we were married.
9. If you could watch an creative person in the act of the creative process, who would it be? (Original question: If you like to act with someone, who will it be? Your gf/bf or an actress/actor?)
I’ve asked myself a tough question because I have so many answers to that. Dave Matthews, Trent Reznor, Stephen King, the Coen Brothers, my brother while he’s creating music. I love listening to my husband creating original riffs on the guitar. He’s very good at it, even if he doesn’t think so. For me, watching someone in the creative process would give me some insight into a person’s mind, but would also illuminate how my creative process is similar to or different from that of other creative people.
10. What kinds of books do you buy? (Original question: What do you expect of your loved one?)
I tend to buy books that I can use as reference, books that I’ll want to dig into again and a gain. Writing, complementary medicine, some “woo woo” topics are my favorites. I seem to be building up a collection of fiction, but not really by design. I typically check fiction out of the library, unless there is a particular book I want to read that the library doesn’t have. Then, I’ll break down and buy it.
11. How would you see yourself in ten years time?
A little grayer. (Ba-dum-bum! Tsh!) But seriously, folks . . . I don’t tend to look that far ahead. I’d like to have another fiction book or two written. While I do have other ambitions, I think I’ll not jinx myself by saying any more here. Who knows how life will turn out?
12. What’s your fear?
Heights and enclosed spaces.
13. What kind of person do you think the person who tagged you is?
I’ve never met Manoj. He lives in India and has described some aspects of his life to me. He sounds like a fun-loving, adventurous sort, who wants to do well with his studies. He is very attached to his family and is serious when he needs to be, but won’t pass up an opportunity for relaxation. (How’d I do, Manoj?)
14. Would you rather be single and rich or married, but poor?
I’m rather enjoying being married, but poor, so I’ll stick with that. (Have you seen the U.S. economy lately? I think the vast majority of us are going to end up in the poor category.)
15. What’s the first thing you do when you wake up?
Put on my glasses, check the time, and pull the curtains back to see what the weather is like.
16. Would you give all in a relationship?
Part of the beauty of a truly functional relationship is that two individual people are coming together, with the emphasis on “individual.” A relationship is not healthy if one person is required to give up everything of themselves to be in it. A healthy relationship allows both to remain individuals, while the alchemy of the two acting together creates something greater than either one could come up with on their own.
17. If you could pick a new name for yourself, what would it be? First name is fine, but if you’re feeling imaginative, you can do the whole thing. (Original question: If you fall in love with two people simultaneously, who would you pick?)
India Lenore or Elizabeth Odelia Sparrow
18. What’s your favorite magazine? (Original question: Would you forgive and forget no matter how horrible a thing that special someone has done?)
Wired.
19. When it comes to patterns, what sort of patterns do you prefer? (Original question: What are your three most important expectations in love?)
Stripes or florals. I am also fond of polka dots.
20. List people to tag: Amy, Erin, Joy, LK Winter, Soloist, Reeva, Devin. (Yes, I can count. That’s seven, not six. I’m not very good at following meme rules. Remember, tagged ones, I’m not holding your feet to the fire on this, so break whatever meme rules you want.)
After messing with writing an author bio (ugh!) for my Woo Woo Teacup Publishing website (not online yet), paying the insurance bill, and eating supper, I knew I could no longer put off mowing the lawn. Darkness comes sooner in central Minnesota now that it’s officially fall. After about 45 minutes of developing callouses on my hands from pushing the mower, I sidled up to the bed of tomatoes and carrots and shut the engine off. Happily, we have a few flowers on the tomato plants. Unhappily, we probably don’t have enough warm weather left to allow them to develop into full-fledged tomatoes. The story with the carrots is better. While they are not the size of what you’d buy in a grocery store (except maybe for the pre-washed baby carrots), they are large enough to eat and oh, so tasty. I pulled a few for a mowing-break snack and look what came up:
Hugging carrots
Two carrots that were getting cozy underground. Isn’t that sweet?
New Journal - 400 blank pages
See that? That’s the blank journal I bought yesterday at Wal-Mart. Daughter and I went to do the grocery shopping and Daughter needed a calendar, which landed us in the office supplies section. I had seen this journal in Wal-Mart before – among the other lovely blank books – and lusted over it. Writers have an unhealthy affection for blank paper, notebooks, journals, and writing implements. With Daughter’s encouragement, I overcame my aversion to spending money on frivolous things and bought it.
The journal, with its 400 blank pages waiting to be filled, is now my goad. My intent is to write a substantial story in it – just one story – and not fritter it away with miscellaneous notes. As I was deciding whether to purchase the journal, Neil Gaiman came to mind, or rather, Neil Gaiman’s lovely Italian leather-bound journal, which he used to start writing The Graveyard Book and which, if you look at the photos of it, show no cross-outs or corrections. I’m fully aware that that sort of perfection is impossible to live up to if you’re me, but why not try?
With thoughts of a goading journal in mind, I went to sleep and dreamt the following:
I was in a house full of children. It seemed to be a daycare and that perhaps I was in charge. The children had made all sorts of tents and hidey-holes out of sheets and blankets. Neil Gaiman dropped in for a visit and began to tell me about fantasy publishing – particular books in the genre, authors, and such-like. At times, he was speaking in a language that I couldn’t understand and I’d ask him to repeat what he had said. It came out in the same fantasy-publishing foreign language. I brought up the topic of AIS, androgen insensitivity syndrome, which rankled Gaiman. His rankling rankled me and I left in a huff and boarded a train. This train was more like a light-rail train than a standard train. The train ran along the very edge of a precipice and the tracks were not straight, but jagged and they weren’t parallel. In the physical world, no train would have ever stayed on these tracks. In fact, at one point, there was a break in the tracks where they had fallen into a hole and people formed a human chain – hands to feet – to create a track to bridge the hole. Somehow, I managed to make a round-trip on the crazy train and returned to the daycare, only to find that all of the children had mysteriously vanished. Neil and the other adults present were searching frantically for them. And I awoke.
Obviously, the journal was working its weird magic on me – not that this dream is going to translate into a story, but at least my creative brain is revving up. The reference to AIS in the dream was taken directly from a conversation with Hubby yesterday. He has a class on the biology of women this semester and is intrigued by the fluidity of gender. A person with AIS has the XY chromosome of a male, but because he has an insensitivity to androgen, develops the outward appearance of a female. Of my dream, this would be one of two elements I’d be interested in working into a story; this, and the disappearing children.
In the meantime, while I’m working up to making a mark in this spankety-spanking new journal, I shall lovingly fondle it and hope that I can eventually do it justice.
A couple of nights ago, Daughter, Young Son #2, Hubby and I went to an art show in which Eldest Son’s art appears. The theme of the show was self-portraits. Each artist had to create an outer self-portrait based upon a work by an established artist. The artists also had to create an inner self-portrait based upon the art of a culture of their choosing. They had to use the art of their chosen culture to illustrate what was going on inside themselves – which, as you know, doesn’t always match a person’s outer image.
Eldest Son chose a Michealangelo work for his outer self-portrait. For his inner self-portrait, he chose Egyptian culture. Here is what he came up with:
Inner Self-Portrait by Eldest Son
Eldest Son enjoys architecture, so you’ll see some architectural elements here. He wanted to bring the two-dimensionality of Egyptian culture into a three-dimesional figure, while still retaining some elements of two dimensions. (Note the object in the sculpture’s hand.)
It was fascinating to look at which cultures the artists used to interpret their inner lives. Quite a number of people inspired by Native American traditions, but other than that one commonality, the other artists chose disparate cultures, such as Buddhism, Asian art, and Hawaiin scrimshaw.
As I thought about the art show, I got to wondering what culture’s art best describes my inner life. I came up with three specific cultural traditions that I would have used to create something for a show like this:
Indian batik and embroidered fabrics (India, not Native American),
Objiwe beaded bandolier bags, and
Victorian crazy quilting.
All display a certain regularity in production, but also a sense of whimsy and unpredictability. If done right, the excessive embellisment is astonishing, but not displeasing or overwhelming to the eye.
So, then, what about you? What culture, or more specifically, cultural artistic tradition, would you choose to illustrate your inner life? Why would you choose that particular culture?
Within the past few days, I’ve had a couple of dreams that are weird beyond belief. Not the dreams themselves, actually, but what happened after.
Over the weekend I had a dream that Eldest Son was sick, but that I wasn’t around to help him. The dream was so strong that I woke practically in tears. Eldest Son is away at school and he emailed yesterday. His news? He’s sick with a cough and aches and fatigue. He rarely gets sick and hates to miss school, but felt so ill that he couldn’t attend class today.
This morning, Young Son #2 woke me to say that his stomach was bothering him and hinting that he’d like to stay home from school. This is a rather common occurrence, so I suggested he have some peppermint tea and get ready for school. I slipped back into sleep and dreamed that he had left the house to go to school. I followed in order to see how he was feeling. There were kids all over the street. One of them threw a massive amount of candy up into the air – much more than a single person could possibly throw in one toss. This was a dream, however, so physics were defied. Packages of candy bars and Dairy Queen ice cream treats and pieces of bubble gum rained down into our yard. I ran around picking stuff up. Then I woke.
When I left the house this morning, what did I find in front of our house? A full bag of Fritos spilled on the sidewalk.
There is no explanation.
I follow my blog feeds using Bloglines and I had noticed that a little red exclamation point was showing up next to my feed for The Confessions of Caroline. Typically when this happens, someone has made adjustments to his or her blog and it has fouled up the feed. When I click through, I usually come right to the blog, or I sign up for the feed again and that fixes the problem. When I attempted to go to Caroline’s blog, however, I got a 404 error – which is a standard this-blog-is-not-here message.
Go ahead, you try:
http://www.carolinesconfessions.blogspot.com/
Same result, eh? Caroline’s last post, which I saved on Bloglines, was posted on August 24, 2008, and updated the following day. In it, she describes how the married man she was romantically interested in was shot by his wife after the wife found emails between Caroline and the man. Caroline had broken it off with the man previous to his getting shot. The man warned Caroline that his wife was intent on seeing her dead.
And now the blog is gone.
