Shawn L. Bird

Original poetry, commentary, and fiction. All copyrights reserved.

colour December 19, 2012

Filed under: Commentary,OUTLANDERishness — Shawn L. Bird @ 11:21 pm
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“I tended to avoid grey, which made me look like I’d been inexpertly embalmed.”

(Claire in Echo of the Bone by Diana Gabaldon)

This phrase made me chuckle, as it’s so true.

Colour is such an important key to self-esteem.  If you walk around in colours that don’t match your complexion, you tend to look rather sickly.  While Claire, with her golden glow, amber eyes, and brown hair, avoids grey.  I avoid brown, and choose shades of grey as my neutral colour of choice.

How about you?  What colours make you shine?  Which make you look ill?

 

NaNo life November 16, 2012

Filed under: Commentary,Writing — Shawn L. Bird @ 12:26 pm
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We had a three day week, as BC had the Remembrance Day statutory holiday on Monday, and our school district had a closure on Tuesday.  That was great because I was able to get caught up on my NaNoWriMo words.  Yesterday we had Parent Teacher Interviews at school, and so I was away, working or with colleagues for thirteen and a half hours.  That’s a long day! 

I did manage to get MOST of my NaNo writing done, but I was 55 words short of par at the end the day.  It is a mark of how tired I was that I was not able to find 55 words before I headed to bed! 

The blog suffered a day or two of neglect as a result, and this is not going to be very brilliant.  However, with all the dog-ears on my copy of Stephen King’s On Writing, there is always a quote to share.  Here’s one for today, the day after report cards were issued at my school:

At the time we’re stuck in it, like hostages locked in a Turkish bath, high school seems the most serious business in the world to just about all of us.  It’s not until the second or third class reunion that we start realizing how absurd the whole thing was.

Stephen King.  On Writing. p. 54

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NaNo Word count

Nov 15:   1554  (Total 24,945)

Nov 16:

 

on being a teen when your birthday says you’re not November 11, 2012

Filed under: Commentary,Writing — Shawn L. Bird @ 9:04 pm
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I was just reading a blog post by a writer who was pondering the complications of writing from the narrative perspective of a 16 year old girl.  Here are  my thoughts about writing as a teen, when one is actually years or even decades past the teen years.

It’s been a few decades since my own high school graduation, but I am lucky.  I write for teens, I am with teens all day long, and I never grew up (this means  that I actually gave birth to children who are older than I am).  I have a unique perspective on the life of the average teen, and access to them.  I watch, listen, and absorb what I can in the hallways of the high schools where I teach .  I hear about the latest vocabulary, music, games, movies, and books.  At the same time, I am no longer a teen, despite not having grown up, so I’m not really in the club.  Then again, I wasn’t in the club when I was actually a teen, either.  That’s not such an uncommon scenario.

Many things haven’t changed much.

There are the kids who party.  There are the jocks.   There are the kids who escape their troubles (real or imagined) with substance abuse, with music, art, writing, mechanics or with academic excellence.  There are the kids who are motivated and going far.  There are the kids who don’t have a lot going for them, and don’t have big dreams.  There are enthusiastic kids.  There are depressed kids.

Teens are a snap shot of society, though in a time of striving for identity, they are inclined to extremes now, just like they were then.

If you’re writing as a teen in the present, the biggest change in modern teen life compared to life as a teen  in the 60s, 70s or 80s is that the ubiquitous cell phone must be part of the action.  Cell phones are umbili for social survival for teens today.  They require constant connection like The Borg. It’s quite a fascinating thing to observe, especially when the paradox of feeling ‘different’ creates the fundamental paradox: connected and outside simultaneously.  That’s the nature of being a teen today.

The most important things remain the same.  They still want to change the world.  Many still believe, rightly, that they can.  That optimism is also an essential component of youth, and the one I like the best.

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Here I am at Hallowe’en with some of  the people who make me happy to get up and drive to work each day, my Acting class.   Can you find me?  🙂

NaNoWriMo Day 11: 1100 words   (Total 15,000)

 

literary strip tease? November 1, 2012

Filed under: Literature — Shawn L. Bird @ 9:51 pm
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 “…what is it about literary endeavour that strips a man of all dignity?

Ian Weir in Daniel O’Thunder  (p. 73)

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NaNoWriMo update: 1670 down, 48,330 words to go

 

how to button your suit. October 15, 2012

Filed under: Commentary — Shawn L. Bird @ 11:57 am
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I didn’t believe it when my husband told me, years ago, that this was the way it is done. However, I’ve just read J. J. Lee’s memoir, and as a tailor’s apprentice and fashion journalist, I bow to his expertise.  Lee says that on a two button suit the rule is,

  • top button ALWAYS buttoned
  • bottom button NEVER buttoned

On a three button suit, the top one is a wild card, dependant on the lie of the lapels and the fit of the man wearing it,

  • top button  SOMETIMES buttoned
  • middle button ALWAYS buttoned
  • bottom button NEVER buttoned

I mentioned this to a student wearing a beautiful pin striped double breasted suit on “Dress up like a gangster” day at school.  He said, “I’m not traditional.”  >>sigh<<  There’s traditional, and then there is just ‘wrong.’  2 plus 2 is traditionally 4, and if you claim it’s 5, you’re just wrong.  I decided to look for some photographic evidence to support this button rule, and I looked back to the days of cool suit wearing, studying photos of the Rat Pack.  They follow the rule.  See?

 

What’s the point of fashion, anyway? October 13, 2012

Fashion matters because every day people get up in the morning and, with the palette of clothes they find in their closets and dressers, they attempt to create a visual poem about a part of themselves they wish to share with the world. 

J.J. Lee.  Measure of a Man. p. 53

I was raised by a mother who loved fashion and filled her basement with fabric, patterns and notions.  She crafted beautiful garments, and rarely threw anything out.  Which meant when we moved her from Kelowna here to Salmon Arm, we moved eight closets full of her clothes, and a hundred or so pairs of shoes.  It also meant that Vogue magazine was a staple in our house, and that I grew up with a keen eye on clothes.

J. J. Lee wrote his biography of his father within the context of his time as an apprentice tailor.  His father’s suit provided an exploration of the suit as symbol and metaphor in his own life, but also in the life of all men.  Clothing makes the man, and he was trying to figure out the man the clothing made.

I love his expression of fashion as a visual poem.  It’s very accurate.  Our clothes give the message we wish to send to the world on any particular day.  Whether it’s laid back casual with jeans and a Tshirt or cute and quirky with a hat, bright tunic and leggings, we say something about ourselves.  But we don’t wear the same thing every day, just as we wouldn’t write the same poem every day.

Every day we adorn ourselves to be a visual poem.

I like that.

 

Dancing around the world October 12, 2012

Filed under: Commentary — Shawn L. Bird @ 12:40 am

If you are willing to celebrate in whacky ways, sometimes the world comes along with you.  I visit Youtube now and then to enjoy watching Matt dance around the world.  He had no style, but he had enthusiasm, and an infectious joy.  It is impossible for me to watch the video without a giggle.

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Things have changed though.  The 2012 video shows Matt branching out to embrace the world of ethnic dancing styles and large group choreography.  It’s not the sweet simple fun it once was, but I got chills when the group was dancing in front of Sibelius monument in Helsinki.  I recognized streets in several countries.  I had been there, and that makes the 2012 video rather profound.  We change.  We must accept that things are ‘Not better.  Not worse.  Just different.”  There’s always something to appreciate in the new, even when we are feeling a little nostalgic for the old.  Matt’s growing up, and apparently his family is, too.

Celebrate.

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critic? October 11, 2012

Filed under: Commentary,Reading,Writing — Shawn L. Bird @ 1:15 am
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I am not a critic; to me criticism is so often nothing more than the eye garrulously denouncing the shape of the peephole that gives access to hidden treasure.

Djuna Barnes. “The Songs of Synge: The Man Who Shaped His Life as He Shaped His Plays”, in New York Morning Telegraph (18 February 1917)

I love a lot of books.  Some the critics hate, but I have forged connections with them, and so they speak to me.  Some books, the critics love, and I hate with an abiding passion.  100 Years of Solitude is one.    I don’t relate to any of it, and the fact that half the characters have the exact same name is exasperating.

I love the Twilight Saga.  At present, it’s not cool to admit that, and someone who is an English teacher is supposed to be distracted by the poor writing.  I didn’t find anything so terrible that it distracted me from the story.  The story and the characters I could relate to.  I recognized the dilemmas and the challenges.  I respected the characteristics that don’t meet the societal norms.   I loved them, critics (or cool kids) be damned.

Someone did a poll on Twitter asking whether we want to be critically admired or on a best seller list.  I’m not sure that the two concepts are mutually exclusive, but I would be quite delighted with readers over awards.  On the other hand, I’d be very proud of awards.  We write to be read, though.  If our words speak to the people, but are panned by the critics, then perhaps the critics are out of touch?

What about you?  Would you rather be read or lauded?  Do you read books recommended by the critics or by your low-bred friends?

(Lord David, you can’t answer than one, since I’m sure all your friends are high-bred!) ;-P

 

inspirational kids October 10, 2012

Filed under: Commentary,Grace Awakening Myth — Shawn L. Bird @ 12:11 am
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I’ve already told you that I occasionally use the names of my students (with their permission, of course) in my stories.   The characters are not representations of their namesakes; they have their own adventures, conflicts, and personalities which are completely distinct.  Still, sometimes the fictional and real have the odd thing in common.

For example, in Grace Awakening Myth there’s a character called J-Roy.   You learned the other day that J-Roy dances, is athletic, and looks great in a unitard.

The real J-Roy is also pretty tough.  Look who’s a head-liner in a local mixed martial arts fight? Uh huh.  Ben desperately needs all the help he can get.  I wonder if J. Roy will give him fighting lessons? 😉

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HELP! Which start is your favourite? October 7, 2012

I’m unhappy with the opening to Grace Awakening Myth.  I need something strong , intriguing and compelling.

I’m brainstorming, and would appreciate some feedback from you!  Here are six versions of the first 100 words or so.  Version one is the original.  Which do you think is the strongest option?  Can you identify why it appeals to you?  Would you mix components of a couple of the options?  Please leave your observations in the comment section below.   (Though I see many of you are using Facebook, and that’s all right as well).  Thanks for your help!

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Version 6:

Aphrodite’s words exploded in my head like a missile shot from a catapult, leaving me dizzy and stunned.

I stared at her  as the words ricocheted through my head, smashing through my consciousness, crushing my hopes, and destroying my future.

Finally, I sputtered, “What did you say?”  It couldn’t be true.  She couldn’t have said what I heard.

Aphrodite stood, her back to the temple columns, watching me solemnly.  “Oh, Orpheus,” she sighed.  “I said, ‘This is that girl’s last life time in the Earthly Realm.  If you are to have her for eternity, she must choose you this time.’”

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Version 5:

Aphrodite’s words exploded in my head like the sound of crashing swords, leaving me dizzy and stunned.

Finally, I gasped, “What did you say?”

Aphrodite stood, her back to the templecolumns, watching me solemnly.  “Oh, Orpheus,” she sighed.  “I said, ‘This is that girl’s last life time in the Earthly Realm.  If you are to have her for eternity, she must choose you this time.’”

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Version 4:

Aphrodite was watching me with a solemnly pitying expression as I came over the hill.  She leaned languidly against a pillar, golden hair flowing around her in waves, waiting.

She made me nervous.  I bowed low.  “You wished to speak to me?”

She nodded, stepping forward and straightening into a formal posture. “I am to inform you, that this is the girl’s last life time in the Earthly Realm.  If you are to have her for eternity, she must choose you this time.”

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Version 3.

Aphrodite leaned against the temple column and watched me warily.  “Did you hear what I said, Orpheus?”

I bowed respectfully, shaking my head.  I had heard, but I wished fervently that I hadn’t.

“I said, this is that girl’s last life time in the Earthly Realm.  If you are to have her for eternity, she must choose you this time.”

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Version 2:

Aphrodite’s words sliced into me like a sword and I wheezed, feeling the blood rush from my face as the pain of them slashed through me.  “What did you say?”

Aphrodite stood, her back to the templecolumns, watching me solemnly.  “Oh, Orpheus,” she sighed.  “I said, ‘This is that girl’s last life time in the Earthly Realm.  If you are to have her for eternity, she must choose you this time.’”

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 Version 1:

“Orpheus!  Come here.  I need to talk to you.”  Aphrodite stood, her back to the templecolumns, watching me solemnly.

I didn’t like the expression on her face.  I bowed respectfully, “Yes?”

“This is that girl’s last life time in the Earthly Realm.  If you are to have her for eternity, she must choose you this time.”

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(FYI- this is what follows the above…)

That girl.  She tossed the words like Grace was of no consequence.  The girl I had followed through time, the girl who made my life complete, and gave me music.  The girl who could save all that was good in the world.  The girl I was waiting for.  My heart started to pound.  “Where is she?”

She shook her head.  “I’m not allowed to say; you know that.”

“I was told Canada.  In Calgary.”

Her eyes widened and she tilted her head, but she made no comment.

The eyes were enough confirmation.  At least I didn’t have to scan the entire population of the planet.  I only needed to find Grace among the million or so residents of Calgary.  I’d come to the city a couple of years before on a tip, and had settled myself into high school there.  My informant had assured me that Grace would show up there eventually, but I had reached my final year in high school without any sign of her.  I’d begun to doubt, but Aphrodite’s alarmed surprise was enough evidence that I was in the right place.  I would try to be patient.