The Power of Words

I had an interesting review at work last month which inspired the following. I find it very interesting how 99% of the review was wonderful and fantastic, and that all got wiped out with one, scathing word.

Solid
This book gets thicker
with the words
plumping up the pages,
infusing the pulp.
Simple words, slanted words,
stained with emotion
and desires.
The solid force, the power
of words;
Vituperous.
She threw it at me,
though she couldn't say it.
All the vowels and the
other things folded in the
hiss on the tail.
It's followed me through
the halls, up and down
the stairs, curled under
my desk.
Waiting for another lambast
to sink vituperous fangs into,
poison, taint.
The word has a thickness
a solid whack.
Even on the page
I feel the bulge.


KEH

New Years goals and such

One of my new years resolutions has been to write more poetry. That used to be my thing but now since I've been focusing all my energy on the novel, I've fallen out of practice. I am going to try to write one-two poems a week. We'll see if all of that 'practice' does anything for the poems.

Here's the latest:


Just Why

I repeat
over and
over their histories:
a tale of mice, and their tails
dangling from the eaves of
a pinecone;
another one found adrift
in the snow, a gift
under a Christmas tree.
That shell from him, a friend,
a hopeful romantic.
That shell from him, a lover,
a sad excuse.
That fragile rock from Outback
behind the cities, crushed
into white ink
for stony histories.
That star from the Oregon beach,
the one I didn't save.
That shell from...
it's slipped away, like the tide
it came in on.
I can't remember why
I keep it on the shelf with
the pinecone, a tale of mice,
and their tails...


KEH

1st Year Anniversary!

As of today, I have been writing every day for at least 15 minutes for an entire year! I am so excited, I can't remember the last time I accomplished something like this.
I wish I could say I have a complete novel to show for it, but as of Saturday, I've decided to rewrite the whole outer story (half the book) from scratch, from a whole different perspective. I'm never going to finish at this rate! But, I'm excited about the project again, the rewrite has peaked my interest and I've got all sorts of ideas.
Tonight, I'm going to celebrate with Chocolate custard eclairs (always wanted to try those), 500 Days of Summer, a glass of wine and homemade beef stroganoff. Later this week I'm going dancing!
Thanks for all the support! Let's see what happens in another year of writing non-stop!

Christmas Tree!

This year's Christmas tree is a little bit different, thanks to snow and freakin' cold temps that daunted even the most determined of the tree cutters (me and Dad.)
So, with a little creativity and Charlie Brown Spirit, here is my solution.

Oh Sylvia

I just finished reading The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath and can make an excellent case for skipping the introductions that are mostly babble. The intro compared The Bell Jar to The Catcher in the Rye, (and we all know my thoughts on that piece of work), and said they were twins. Thank goodness I didn't let that stop me because I really enjoyed The Bell Jar. It is in no way the twin of that other book because A: something happens in The Bell Jar, B: it's well written, and C: it was written for different generations and yet it effected me without the need of any outside validation or justification. If the two books are at all related, Catcher is a sad little step child to The Bell Jar.

The Great Rye Debate...

I got into a discussion this weekend about the 'greatness' of The Catcher in the Rye and here's where I stand (which I realize is in a lonely spot, but I'm still here):
if a book needs an explanation or validation - "you need to understand that when it was written this was groundbreaking" - because it doesn't hold up on its own through the ages, I don't think it's so great. Many people thought it was a great book then, but I don't think it has survived the test of time so well, unlike other books that were written then or long before that still move readers today, like: Tom Sawyer or Huck Finn, Atlas Shrugged, The Awakening, Gone With the Wind, The Scarlet Letter, The Great Gatsby - just to name a few classics. Most of the above were indeed dissected in school, but I enjoy reading them all - for fun. Yes, I said it! I enjoy reading and look for books that take me somewhere, involve me with the characters, move me in some way. I read Catcher in the Rye to see what all the hoopla was about, and at the end, I was still waiting for the hoopla. And when I was given the 'explanations' for all the hoopla, my response was 'oh. I still don't like it.'
Jackson Pollack did a similar thing. Groundbreaking style that hadn't been done before, (unless another artist's pet monkey had done something similar but the artist just didn't think the public would go for it, and now isn't he kicking himself - and the monkey), but without the name attached, now it's just splatter paint. Unlike Van Gogh who did a different style - that the public did not go for at the time, ironic - and now generations recognize the talent that my monkey certainly cannot master, no matter how hard we practice.

Anyway, my question should anyone care to answer is, if you need to explain the work - literature or art - does it deserve to share a shelf - or wall - with the classics?

One down...

I did it! Exactly 5 years after the intial inspiration for the Asparagus Revival while sitting in the airport in Seoul, South Korea, I have a complete first draft of both the inner and outer stories! I am determined that the second draft won't take nearly as long, due to my new found discipline for writing every day for at least 15 minutes. I haven't missed a day since January - even on vacation, and being sick enough to draft a will - except for Halloween. But I worked on the book at 8:00 the next morning after only 4 hours of sleep, so that's gotta count for something.
Well, here's to fleshing the story out and getting it to a point where I am happy to let others see it.