Cheryl Snell's Blog, page 53
October 22, 2010
Time for a Quiz
Take this Book Quiz and find out which book you are. Apparently, I'm Great Expectations by Dickens. "Coming from humble beginnings, you have become pretty stuck-up in your later years. While hard work and dedication were the path you first walked on, a sudden fork brought you glory and fortune. Unfortunately, you have changed even more than your bottom line. You really should turn back to your old friends and at least respect your old life. Look out for haughty hotties."
October 21, 2010
October 20, 2010
Progress
Look at the way we connect now,
all scribbled skin and logistics.
We drown in the details— what to bring
to potluck,where to meet for coffee.
There's a Starbucks on the corner
where we once sold lemonade,
our homemade sign still coming apart
in an attic somewhere. We sift through ruins
for the precious thing we lost
when the future rolled into town
on a bulldozer. It plowed into our plans,
burying them under stories of glass and brick,
leaving us fragmented with longing.
Nothing much changed. We still lift our heads
when a foreman's whistle blows. We stand
close together, on the verge of moving,
held back by the strong-arm of routine.
Last week another crew came in.
When they headed out again, we followed
for a few steps, without expectation,
dragging our feet.
We never would have gone that far
if we'd remembered it gets dark early now,
and it's easy to get lost
on a map re-drawn in our sleep.
all scribbled skin and logistics.
We drown in the details— what to bring
to potluck,where to meet for coffee.
There's a Starbucks on the corner
where we once sold lemonade,
our homemade sign still coming apart
in an attic somewhere. We sift through ruins
for the precious thing we lost
when the future rolled into town
on a bulldozer. It plowed into our plans,
burying them under stories of glass and brick,
leaving us fragmented with longing.
Nothing much changed. We still lift our heads
when a foreman's whistle blows. We stand
close together, on the verge of moving,
held back by the strong-arm of routine.
Last week another crew came in.
When they headed out again, we followed
for a few steps, without expectation,
dragging our feet.
We never would have gone that far
if we'd remembered it gets dark early now,
and it's easy to get lost
on a map re-drawn in our sleep.
New Poem
Progress
Look at the way we connect now,
all scribbled skin and logistics.
We drown in the details—
what to bring to potluck,
where to meet for coffee.
There's a Starbucks on the corner
where we once sold lemonade,
our homemade sign still coming apart
in an attic somewhere. We sift through ruins
for the precious thing we lost
when the future rolled into town
on a bulldozer. It plowed into our plans,
burying them under stories of glass and brick,
leaving us fragmented with longing.
We still lift our heads
when a foreman's whistle blows,
standing close together, on the verge
of moving but held back
by the strong-arm of routine.
Last week another crew came in.
When they headed out again, we followed
for a few steps, dragging our feet.
We could never have found our way back home
on a map re-drawn in our sleep.
--
Look at the way we connect now,
all scribbled skin and logistics.
We drown in the details—
what to bring to potluck,
where to meet for coffee.
There's a Starbucks on the corner
where we once sold lemonade,
our homemade sign still coming apart
in an attic somewhere. We sift through ruins
for the precious thing we lost
when the future rolled into town
on a bulldozer. It plowed into our plans,
burying them under stories of glass and brick,
leaving us fragmented with longing.
We still lift our heads
when a foreman's whistle blows,
standing close together, on the verge
of moving but held back
by the strong-arm of routine.
Last week another crew came in.
When they headed out again, we followed
for a few steps, dragging our feet.
We could never have found our way back home
on a map re-drawn in our sleep.
--
Poem
Look at the way we connect now,
all scribbled skin and logistics.
We drown in the details—
what to bring to potluck,
where to meet for coffee.
There's a Starbucks on the corner
where we once sold lemonade,
our homemade sign still coming apart
in an attic somewhere.We sift through
for the precious thing we lost
when the future rolled into town
on a bulldozer. It plowed into our plans,
burying them under stories of glass and brick,
leaving us fragmented with longing.
We still lift our heads
when a foreman's whistle blows,
standing close together, on the verge
of moving but held back
by the strong-arm of routine.
Last week another crew came in.
When they headed out again, we understood
that we could never have followed them anyway,
the map re-drawn in our sleep.
--
all scribbled skin and logistics.
We drown in the details—
what to bring to potluck,
where to meet for coffee.
There's a Starbucks on the corner
where we once sold lemonade,
our homemade sign still coming apart
in an attic somewhere.We sift through
for the precious thing we lost
when the future rolled into town
on a bulldozer. It plowed into our plans,
burying them under stories of glass and brick,
leaving us fragmented with longing.
We still lift our heads
when a foreman's whistle blows,
standing close together, on the verge
of moving but held back
by the strong-arm of routine.
Last week another crew came in.
When they headed out again, we understood
that we could never have followed them anyway,
the map re-drawn in our sleep.
--
Transitions
When is a Transition not a Transition?
It's a slippery one, that term. Noun or verb, it conjures the world's first IMAX film in 3D or modulation in a musical passage or a passage that connects a topic to one that follows. It can represent an event that results in a transformation, a change from one person, place, or thing to another; it can mean "to cause to convert or undergo a transition."
For writers, transitions mark relationships between ideas --examples, exceptions. They serve as clues to interpretation for the reader. So when several of my critics complained they found the transitions in my novel confusing, I was the one scratching her head.
I tried to get to the bottom of it. What in the world did they mean when they said they didn't always know where the action was taking place? I thought I made that clear. I looked at my book again, searching out the abrupt, the jagged. I had always admired Alice Munroe's seamless transitions and taken them as my model.
Maybe they were talking about the fact that the same information came from several characters with their separate points-of-view. By using the theme of divided loyalties and questions of belonging, perhaps I had achieved a mosaic that didn't quite fit.
One reader gave me a clue. "Most books stick asterisks in when the characters go someplace. You can keep track of them better that way." Could she be talking about scene changes? Some editors do indeed want to include a blank line or two at the end of scenes, while others think that everything in a chapter should be tightly contained therein --if you need a separation, you need a new chapter.
When I described what a transition meant to me, the lady with the clue was surprised. "I didn't mean that type of transition," she said. "Transition was the best word I could come up with. I meant when the setting or whatever you want to call them, changes."
Mystery solved.
It's a slippery one, that term. Noun or verb, it conjures the world's first IMAX film in 3D or modulation in a musical passage or a passage that connects a topic to one that follows. It can represent an event that results in a transformation, a change from one person, place, or thing to another; it can mean "to cause to convert or undergo a transition."
For writers, transitions mark relationships between ideas --examples, exceptions. They serve as clues to interpretation for the reader. So when several of my critics complained they found the transitions in my novel confusing, I was the one scratching her head.
I tried to get to the bottom of it. What in the world did they mean when they said they didn't always know where the action was taking place? I thought I made that clear. I looked at my book again, searching out the abrupt, the jagged. I had always admired Alice Munroe's seamless transitions and taken them as my model.
Maybe they were talking about the fact that the same information came from several characters with their separate points-of-view. By using the theme of divided loyalties and questions of belonging, perhaps I had achieved a mosaic that didn't quite fit.
One reader gave me a clue. "Most books stick asterisks in when the characters go someplace. You can keep track of them better that way." Could she be talking about scene changes? Some editors do indeed want to include a blank line or two at the end of scenes, while others think that everything in a chapter should be tightly contained therein --if you need a separation, you need a new chapter.
When I described what a transition meant to me, the lady with the clue was surprised. "I didn't mean that type of transition," she said. "Transition was the best word I could come up with. I meant when the setting or whatever you want to call them, changes."
Mystery solved.
October 19, 2010
October 18, 2010
Now They Tell Me
From India Uncut:
In the book "The World of _____" by Bennett Alan Weinberg and Bonnie K Bealer, there is a photograph of a label from a jar of pharmaceutical-grade crystals. It reads:
"WARNING: MAY BE HARMFUL IF INHALED OR SWALLOWED. HAS CAUSED MUTAGENIC AND REPRODUCTIVE EFFECTS IN LABORATORY ANIMALS. INHALATION CAUSES RAPID HEART RATE, EXCITEMENT, DIZZINESS, PAIN, COLLAPSE, HYPOTENSION, FEVER, SHORTNESS OF BREATH. MAY CAUSE HEADACHE, INSOMNIA, VOMITING, STOMACH PAIN, COLLAPSE AND CONVULSIONS."
Fill in the blank.
(backwards answer)enieffac
In the book "The World of _____" by Bennett Alan Weinberg and Bonnie K Bealer, there is a photograph of a label from a jar of pharmaceutical-grade crystals. It reads:
"WARNING: MAY BE HARMFUL IF INHALED OR SWALLOWED. HAS CAUSED MUTAGENIC AND REPRODUCTIVE EFFECTS IN LABORATORY ANIMALS. INHALATION CAUSES RAPID HEART RATE, EXCITEMENT, DIZZINESS, PAIN, COLLAPSE, HYPOTENSION, FEVER, SHORTNESS OF BREATH. MAY CAUSE HEADACHE, INSOMNIA, VOMITING, STOMACH PAIN, COLLAPSE AND CONVULSIONS."
Fill in the blank.
(backwards answer)enieffac
October 16, 2010
Raj Kapoor bol radha bol Sangam 1964 राज कपूर
Ram's song to Alice...
