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FAQ: First Nut, 1995!
Sep. 1st, 2008 09:56 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
mbarker.livejournal.comOriginal Posting: January, 1995
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First Nut, 1995!
(Hey, glad you could join us here this year. Keep writing!!!!)
Once upon a time...
The page just sort of sits there, waiting for words. Or (since this is the year of our electronic savor 1995) the screen sits there, blank and dark, with the little blobby cursor blinking, winking, waiting for you to tap at the keys, except...
You don't know where to start.
Or perhaps you scribble, secretly, around the crack of midnight or over the yawns of sunrise? Five minutes every day in the bathroom, twenty minutes every noon, and now you've got boxes and boxes of words that no one has ever seen?
Make this your year on your list.
Write here. Write now. And...
(pardon me while I slip into something metaphorical?)
Plant an acorn.
Take that apple core out of the trash and plant a seed for Johnny.
(we'll ignore the fertilizer--there's usually plenty around, no need to hunt for it:-)
Add water, sunshine, and just a touch of exposure--then stand back!
Because you are about to plant a tree, that may grow into a copse, or even a grove, which could turn into a thicket of wildwords, and--in time--a veritable forest of giant red words leaping out of the icy tundra of cyberspace into the glistening future!
(with Firewords at midnight! and light zephyrs of poetic musing in the morn!)
But new beginnings can be worrisome. You may wonder about your plot.
"When should I plow?"
"Should I till it or turn it or what?"
"Does dancing in the light of the full moon with a neighbor really ensure a good harvest, or just a good fence?"
"Is dancing with beagles or butterflies or some other friendly animus necessary for happiness?"
And this is a great place to get some advice on your own little garden.
I know, I know, sometimes we get noisy and seem too wrapped up in patting each other on the back and confused about who's leading the band.
(hah! got you fooled! there isn't a conductor. Some of the folk are playing jazz while others prefer classical rhythm and boos. And the drummers all beat to different marches, ides, and rittles. Really! So sit down and add your own odd notes, grace tones and melodies as the band plays on...)
But when the keyboard hits the end of the cable or the mouse runs off the edge of its cute little pad or even when quill-dipped ink slips slickly across smooth pressed bond paper...
It's words, writing, putting together fiction and poetry--that craft of dreams and art of the blackest inkspots, that mystery of bemused inspiration, that wonder of the storytellers' way which ties these humble (and some not so humble:-) practitioners together. That's why...
When the lightning of fairy poems crackles and the hairs on the back of your neck prickle...
When the explosive crash of ice snapping resounds across ponds and lakes of frozen talents caught by an unreasonable thaw...
When wordy flows remind us of the slow grandeur of the avalanche, the glacier, and the iceberg advancing implacable and awful in all their white glory...
When the dry slither of sunbaked air draws mirages, dustdevils, and Englishmen out in the daylight...
We'll know that you've been here!
Look forward to reading you on the list!
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[Please feel free to print this FAQ and keep a copy for when you have questions! In fact, the author would be pleased if you did that.]
The meat in this sandwich - v. 13, Jan. 1, 1995
[removed to avoid spoilage]
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Should old plot engines be forgot...
And never poetry rhyme...
We'll make the words to ring again...
And sing of old plot lines!
Happy First Nut, 1995!
And look forward to many more words from you!
+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#
+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#
First Nut, 1995!
(Hey, glad you could join us here this year. Keep writing!!!!)
Once upon a time...
The page just sort of sits there, waiting for words. Or (since this is the year of our electronic savor 1995) the screen sits there, blank and dark, with the little blobby cursor blinking, winking, waiting for you to tap at the keys, except...
You don't know where to start.
Or perhaps you scribble, secretly, around the crack of midnight or over the yawns of sunrise? Five minutes every day in the bathroom, twenty minutes every noon, and now you've got boxes and boxes of words that no one has ever seen?
Make this your year on your list.
Write here. Write now. And...
(pardon me while I slip into something metaphorical?)
Plant an acorn.
Take that apple core out of the trash and plant a seed for Johnny.
(we'll ignore the fertilizer--there's usually plenty around, no need to hunt for it:-)
Add water, sunshine, and just a touch of exposure--then stand back!
Because you are about to plant a tree, that may grow into a copse, or even a grove, which could turn into a thicket of wildwords, and--in time--a veritable forest of giant red words leaping out of the icy tundra of cyberspace into the glistening future!
(with Firewords at midnight! and light zephyrs of poetic musing in the morn!)
But new beginnings can be worrisome. You may wonder about your plot.
"When should I plow?"
"Should I till it or turn it or what?"
"Does dancing in the light of the full moon with a neighbor really ensure a good harvest, or just a good fence?"
"Is dancing with beagles or butterflies or some other friendly animus necessary for happiness?"
And this is a great place to get some advice on your own little garden.
I know, I know, sometimes we get noisy and seem too wrapped up in patting each other on the back and confused about who's leading the band.
(hah! got you fooled! there isn't a conductor. Some of the folk are playing jazz while others prefer classical rhythm and boos. And the drummers all beat to different marches, ides, and rittles. Really! So sit down and add your own odd notes, grace tones and melodies as the band plays on...)
But when the keyboard hits the end of the cable or the mouse runs off the edge of its cute little pad or even when quill-dipped ink slips slickly across smooth pressed bond paper...
It's words, writing, putting together fiction and poetry--that craft of dreams and art of the blackest inkspots, that mystery of bemused inspiration, that wonder of the storytellers' way which ties these humble (and some not so humble:-) practitioners together. That's why...
When the lightning of fairy poems crackles and the hairs on the back of your neck prickle...
When the explosive crash of ice snapping resounds across ponds and lakes of frozen talents caught by an unreasonable thaw...
When wordy flows remind us of the slow grandeur of the avalanche, the glacier, and the iceberg advancing implacable and awful in all their white glory...
When the dry slither of sunbaked air draws mirages, dustdevils, and Englishmen out in the daylight...
We'll know that you've been here!
Look forward to reading you on the list!
+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#
[Please feel free to print this FAQ and keep a copy for when you have questions! In fact, the author would be pleased if you did that.]
The meat in this sandwich - v. 13, Jan. 1, 1995
[removed to avoid spoilage]
+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#
Should old plot engines be forgot...
And never poetry rhyme...
We'll make the words to ring again...
And sing of old plot lines!
Happy First Nut, 1995!
And look forward to many more words from you!
+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#+=#
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