Quick rundown of my day: Slept in. Went to lunch with Nichole and Melissa. Then to Straight Upp Studio. Then Orange Leaf. I worked on some writing exercises. Had the BEST Chinese food ever for dinner with the family. Played with my nephews. Had the awesomest (I know its not a word!) homemade ice cream cake ever. Opened presents. Held my youngest nephew while he slept on my chest. Played with my OTHER nephew while taking videos. Cuddled with Melvin.
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| Us girls after our pottery painting! |
This, to me, is a well-rounded wonderful day of everything I love! I couldn't get a more perfect day than that. Really. I mean...I am quite speechless about it at the moment actually. (See Facebook and Twitter for pictures, videos, and other comments from my day.)
What I really wanted to share, however, had nothing to do with the fact that is my birthday and everything to do with the fact that I am a writer.
As previously mentioned, I am working my way through Steering the Craft by Ursula K. Le Guin, a wonderful book on writing techniques and tips and all that good stuff. I am also reading through a few other similar books, including a book titled How to Write Compelling Fiction and another called Around the Writer's Block (There are subtitles, and subtitles to the subtitles for this last one, but I won't add them here).
The background story: When I was still living in Nebraska (No, I'm not a Huskers fan now. Stop asking.) I had played with the idea of getting a masters degree in creative writing. Creative Writing, I figured, was what I really wanted to do with my English degree, so that seemed the next logical step. It wasn't really what I wanted to do, but I thought I had to do it because everyone else was going to get their masters degrees and at the time, I had no idea what else to do. It was an easy answer to the question what are you going to do with your degree now that you've graduated? Long story short, I've now realized that getting an MFA is NOT what I want to do. (This was realized before the library epiphany of this last week).
But, that being said, there is no reason not to continue my education in becoming a better writer. Why do I have to go to a university and get a degree in it when there are so many free resources at my disposal? Books! The best weapons in the world! (to quote Doctor Who, roughly).
I am not normally a non-fiction reader. But, if I am going to become a better writer, I must learn to expand my horizons on all fronts, including what I read (and write, but we'll get to that). So I started travelling over to the non-fiction section, looking for books on writing. Oh boy did I find some!
There are so many books on writing, written from every angle and for every specific genre or technique or advice type I may ever need or want! I narrowed it down to two at first (the third I mentioned I already owned) and I am really enjoying it. I don't need a fancy school to learn about writing from other writers. I just need a library.
So, slowly, I am trying to teach myself to become a better writer, and Ursula K. Le Guin is taking a large part in the beginnings of that journey at the moment. In one of my moments of downtime today, I opened up her book and read the third chapter, talking about sentence length and rhythm. How a sentence should lead to the next sentence, to advance and move the story (and the reader) forward. Prose writing should not make a reader stop and go "Oh! Wow!" with flowery, divine imagery--that is for poetry. It was a good chapter.
At the end of her relatively short chapters (which include excerpt examples from other famous writers. See? Learning from the best!) she includes writing exercises. I love these because I make myself do them, even if I think I can't or it will be too hard. No one is going to see them, really, and it doesn't matter if its good, the point is I did it and I tried and I'm stretching myself. I can go back and do the exercise again later and might find I've improved.
The point. Right. I'm rambling a bit. (I tend to do that when I'm excited about something.) The exercise for this chapter was actually two-fold. Exercise A: Write a paragraph or so using all short sentences of 7 words or less. Exercise B: Write a half-page (350 words) using only one, long sentence.
The first part I was pretty confident about. How hard is that? Short sentences? Easy. Of course, she did say no fragments--they had to be full sentences. I was more worried about part b. One long sentence? Over 300 words in ONE SENTENCE? Madness, woman!
But I did it! And honestly, I'm a little surprised how it turned out. I was certainly not expecting the voice that came out of it.
Part A (Short Sentences):
It was hot. So hot, the sidewalk felt like fire. I fanned
myself languidly. Susan did the same. She hated hot weather. She was more of a
winter person. I'm not a fan of snow. Too cold and wet in my opinion. But that
day was hot as hell. A dog panted in the neighbors yard. Huff, huff, huff. I
watched him, bored. A bee buzzed past my head. I swatted at it. It flew at
Susan. She squealed in fright, squirming away. I laughed and she glared at me.
"Not
funny, Piggly," she snorted rudely. I glared at her. I hated that
nickname. She knew I hated it. She'd done it on purpose.
"I
hope the damn thing stings you." I stuck my tongue out at her. I felt a
little childish doing so. I didn't really care, though. It felt good. I stormed
off, into the house. The screen door slammed behind me—SMACK. I heard Susan
scream, frustrated. I only laughed again, harder, that time.
For some reason, I got a bit of a Great Gatsby era vibe from this particular passage. Not really sure why, but it is an interesting tid-bit. Makes me interested in the rest of their story. You know?
Part B (One long Sentence):
There are few things
a man, being of sound mind and able body, can consider himself lucky to hold;
being sane, he must hold a wife of contentable beauty--that being, of course,
entirely of his own designation whether he be satisfied with her—and likewise
breed children of her if of able body; if this is failing to him, a man may
substitute the woman for a dog—preferably a large one, with long floppy ears
and the good nose of a hunting dog, but, again, it be entirely up to him which
sort appeals to him—and live many years with the contented, happy companionship
that a canine's unfaltering loyalty can give, unlike a woman's, who, bless
their sex, can become moody and particular at certain times of their lives, especially
if such a woman is carrying the man's child within her, at which time there is
seldom a contentable or satisfying moment to be found until said child is grown
with a family and babes of its own; likewise, if a man be of sane and able
body, he may consider himself lucky to hold faith, both in conjunction and in
direct opposition to the previously stated condition of marriage, this being of
course, as faith is required upon the connecting of the two bodies in a church
in front a priest but in opposition during the times when the woman, as stated,
is contemptible enough to push the man to thinking and even saying things that
are certainly not bred of a faith-centered mind—not meaning, of course, that
either the man nor woman has no faith at all, but perhaps has only forgotten it
or set it aside in that moment—which leads to the third item a man be lucky to
hold, being the forgiveness of said contemptible or, in such a case, pregnant,
woman he has so luckily and unluckily found himself holding as, man knows, the
forgiveness of the fairer sex, though hard won, is a treasure finer than the
diamond she wears on her finger and far more easily revoked, so, gentleman, if
they find themselves holding such a rare gem as a woman's forgiveness, they
must certainly consider themselves lucky and rich men indeed.
This is, without a doubt, the longest sentence I have ever written in my life. It is also the only passage of anything I have ever written from the point of view of a male. (I'm pretty darn sure). I don't know why, but when I started the task of writing a long, complex sentence, it just came out this way. Male, Jane Austen-era-y, essay-type sentence. The fact that the subject is talking about marriage and relationships between men and women--and dissing women a bit!--is just hilarious to me! Again, I've NO earthly idea why or how this came out of me, but in that moment, it did. And honestly? I am loving it! Who knew stretching my writing boundaries would be so much fun?
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| (Photo from +Goodreads via twitter) |
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