Archived Messages from April 23 to May 2, 2000

I don't remember who asked about writer movies, but I looked it up somewhere on the net and came up with a list of 10. I have only seen one of the movies on the list, and don't remember it being spectacular, but then it was 11 years ago. Here is the list.

BASEBALL-1994
CRAWFORD MYSTERY THEATRE-1951
BOY MEETS GIRL-1938
MURDER MUST ADVERTISE-1973
FRENCH EXIT-1995
THE FRONT-1976
HER ALIBI-1989(this is the one I saw-I believe it starred Tom Selleck and Paulina Supermodel)
ONE TRUE THING-1998
PRICK UP YOUR EARS-1987
RADIOLAND MURDERS-1994

I'm sure that more movies about writers are out there than this (Where's Throw Mama From the Train?), but it is a start.

Jon, I loved your message; it was beautiful and uplifting. This seems so trite after your lovely words, so I'll just say 'thank you'.

Pussy, You write pretty well from what I've seen. Take a break from tea and crumpeting and write a story about tea and crumpeting! By the way, what's a crumpet? Is it a pastry or more like a biscuit?

Kevin, Do you come here yet? I'm sorry I haven't mailed you back about your rewrite. It's great! The battle scene has come alive and I was there to see it happen. Congrats!

Teekay, Come on, pulleeeeeze! You know what I do for a living--I'm a crazy-in-love momma who is also a temporary (I hope) nursie for my MIL. Spill it sister. (Whinge whinge)

To all, 'Tis been so fun reading all the stories, long and short sentences, and personals; I loved them all. At the risk of being re-repetitive I'll say, I ADORE THIS PLACE! Thanks Jack!

Jon - Good night:)

HEATHER: I think you posted that it was some type of medeival sword No???

HOWARD: Did you ever tell us what Gonfalon meant?

CHRISTI: If I tell you what my job is then you'll just think I'm a whinger. (and you'll probably be right.)

I've posted my reject in the s/s. What a lot of catching up there I have to do.
Now, must go so I can do some catching up.

Seeyers soon.

Sorry, Howard and Teekay, I did not know you were posting on top of Pussy. Writing my tangerine message (see below) took me a lot of time. But it proves that you, Howard, are right about the many styles on the block.

What? No more stories since Pussy made her apparition on this grainy yellow tangerine? We must go on writing more stories tomorrow, as the night was too round and small for us.

It's still a plump baby day on your part of the green. Don't pale your sun to shame. Write and you'll feel better. Your souls are shining through the thin skins of your words, and what you light is beautiful. Why is it that when a voice speaks behind a curtain it is so fascinating? That's the secret and the privilege of the writer. We are lucky to have that gift. As Jerry E. repeatedly states, this is the best meeting place for writers. Well, it could be, if A* did not come here from time to time.

And this ends my contribution for today. A loud applause for each of you.

(Hope you liked this pretty post of mine. I had a vanilla ice-cream before writing it).

Christi -- 'Twas I who submitted GONFALON, not Heather, and you're right, I never did post the actual definition. At least I don't remember doing so. Okay -- it's a flag or standard, hung from a cross-piece on a pole, and carried at the head of a procession by a gonfalonier. I first noticed the word in a high-school graduation program.

So many great short shorts! I too am continually impressed by the talent, as well as the wide range of styles here.

Hi Ever body,

Here is my long & short sentence attempt.

uh oh, touch of W,B here. UUUmmmmm, okay here goes,

I sighed blissfully and closed my eyes in an aura of contentment as I was surrounded by an hypnotic drone mingled with the exquisite perfume of flowers that had been basking all day in the intense heat of the summer sun, drifting in through the white lace curtains gracing my lounge room window as hundreds, maybe thousands of blissfully intoxicated bees gathered drowzily around the honeysuckle, rose and jasmine bushes growing in riotuos profusion, just outside.

I hope that's 100 - it felt like 100!
okay here is my 10.

The scent of Summer flowers danced gracefully to the beesong.

I feel a bit weird doing the personal add about myself, but hey, weird is nothing new to me. Here goes.

5'6" brunette with hazel eyes and ready smile. Loves her friends and family, writing, reading, spending money, dancing and anything she decides is fun. Hates cooking and housework and having to do anything she doesn't want to.
Ambition: To become a full time self sufficient writer who lives in a small coastal town.

HOWARD: The postie came, the postie went,
there was no sign of the book you sent.

My dear admirers,

I'm delighted with tonight's posts. Beautiful stories, gorgeous messages, new and pretty faces, the lot. I am not much of a writer (having to make the tea and cakes for you) but I like to read, and you are amusing me to no end.

Go on with the good work while Jon and his disciple A* watch Barcelona being beaten by Valencia, thus revenging poor Chealsea, also called Eddie's shame. That's soccer, and I do not like soccer. (I like boxing and gladiators' fights). They'll come here after the match to aplaude you. In the meantime, I'll make some tea.

Sorry to interrupt your flow of genius.

Take two characters who can't stand each other and put them in a situation where
they have no choice but to interact with each other (for example, get them stuck in an
elevator together). Write their encounter in moment-by-moment detail.

Stolen explicitly from Annie Lamott, although this is the sort of tension-builder we find
in lots of good stories. This is great as a dialogue exercise because the scene has a
subtext of emotion from the outset, and what they don't say is as interesting as what
they do.

I am the mystery poster that has been putting up the writing exercises. Can you guess who I am?

Am I too late to join in the short-shortie exercise? Here's my silly ditty to add to the rest. Cut me some slack everyone; this is the only writing I've gotten to do in dayz.


Friends 'til the End

I'm wondering what I'll do when Stephen comes back. When he was with me I didn't notice him. He was just there, stable, strong, always in the background somewhere. I treated him miserably, deigning to pay attention to him only when I felt like it--picking and choosing like some stuck-up prom queen. Then, after all his years of tireless service, I forgot about him, or maybe I just ignored him and he faded away. I'd see him every now and again, but I never paid him any mind. "Oh that's just Stephen," I said, and looked the other way to take in newer and more exciting things.

But one day I turned around and he no longer shadowed me. 'What's this?' I thought. 'How dare he leave when I wasn't looking?' I felt so lonely and guilty. After that I starting searching for Stephen. Everywhere I went, I asked, "Have you seen my friend Stephen? He used to be everywhere, but he has vanished."
"Stephen hasn't been doing so well," they told me. "He doesn't come out very much anymore."
I was jealous. How could they know about my Stephen, when I used to know him so well.
Just recently, I found out that something horrible happen to him. An unjust happenstance had pounced upon him, taking him out of comission. So I began visiting my friend Stephen again. I rediscovered all that I had missed the first time around--his depth; his wit; his charm.
And now I wait for Stephen. I wait for him to heal--his mind, body and heart. I know he will be back soon, back with a vengeance, and I wait with bated breath for that moment.
Get well soon Stephen, you crafty talespinner you. The world and I miss you.

--Ode to Stephen King

Silly, eh? I just grabbed the first thought that jumped into my rusty brain and went with it.

How goes it here? Are all you nut-jobs hanging out and having fun? Thanks to everyone for the warm fuzzy thoughts--I eat 'em up like toast and marmalade jam.

Hi Trudy!! I forgot to say WELCOME BACK!!!! We could never forget about you--we'd have to have a pretty lousy memory to do that. Glad your work is keeping you busy. Are you? (Glad, that is.)

Teekay, Phanx fo' da mail! It was almost as good as toast w/ marmalade jam. Almost. ;) I'm glad you're on the ups again, though you must tell me what you do for a living so I can picture the hell you're going through!

Heather, I don't remember seeing you give the REAL definition for Gonfalon. Did one of us guess it? As ridiculous as that seems, I must come to that conclusion if you don't post the correct definition. C'mon, I'm dying to know!

I DO so want to get into all the plethoric entries in the workbook and gobble them up, spitting out a few critiques on the way, but time is not my friend right now. Hopefully later. Will you wait for me 'o workbook?

Love and spuds to you all. Kiss kiss, hug hug, slurp slurp. This has gotten quite messy; I think I'll go and take my shower now.

By the way, the rest of the contributions were very good too, I have been back and forth in the notebook, and missed some of the postings. There is not a bad bunch among them, like I said we attract the best.

Jerry

Okay -- here's a tale I wrote of an encounter in a college student center cafeteria. Remember, I was one of those "non-traditional" students ("old farts") and I learned a lot...

____________________________________________Encounter
_howard tuckey
_march 2000

The gaunt old male circles the herd warily, knowing the boundaries he cannot cross. If he approaches too closely, one of the already nervous younger breeders will declare his own authority, and give first warning.
It probably would not come down to actual combat, but he can not afford to take the chance. He knows the intricate movements of the challenge, to be sure, and even more; his badge of grey proves that. But he has slowed, and is unsure whether or not he can match the speed and stamina of the yet un-blooded young bucks, some of whom are very nearly his own size.
Then too, he has his own small herd to consider. One female approaching his own age, with him from the beginning of memory, and several yearlings of his own. He cannot leave them unguarded for long. Still, he is attracted to this group by the age old drive that perpetuates his kind.
He begins the ancient dance instinctively, almost without thought, moving down_wind of the younger females until he catches their maddening scent. He feels the old familiar tightening, and struggles to keep control. He cannot approach any closer. Even now one of the older females looks up, ready to sound the alarm, and begins to move protectively toward her daughters.
He stops, knowing that occasionally one of the nubile young females, overcome by curiosity or desire, will move out and cross the line, drawn by some un-knowable force. Perhaps this will happen today; perhaps nature's good fortune will smile down on him.
One such young beauty does seem curious, and as he stands there immobile she approaches the boundary. The perfume of her desire is unmistakeable as she prances coyly and seductively before him, ever narrowing the gap between them. She has less than half his years, indeed she is younger than many of his own herd, but he is captivated by her beauty. She performs her dance with a graceful and coquettish shyness that draws him to her, and he forgets all else in his elemental desire for her.
They meet at the boundary, in the rush of promise that knows no past or future, only present. They come together and touch, and for a too-brief moment they are monarchs together, ready to realize the promise of their ancestry.
Then, too soon but almost too late, he hears a warning, and comes to his senses and turns away. She belongs to the sunlight of her own age, and he belongs to those waiting at the edge of the darkwood.
She watches with older, sadder eyes as he turns and walks back down the hill, away from the promise of second lifetime.

I do so love shortie night. I have said it before, but I will say it again, the notebook attracts some of the greatest writing talant out there. Americo your wonderful short proves it once again, as does the contribution left by Heather.

Americo, your short shortie was brilliant,
and leaves one feeling as if the long visit to see the Sage was worth while, although one never left the country of the imaginative mind.

Here's my contribution, and my thank you, Americo, for the swift kick to the collective Notebook trousers:


TEMPLE
(c) Heather Myles, 2000

Written above the Temple doorway were the words, "Know Thyself". There were no doors, no shutters in this Temple, just open spaces.

Every morning, she would walk beneath it and pause. Her head would lift to the reflection of the sun, glinting across the smooth stone. Her eyes would roam over each glyph, the symbols pleasing to her, as if containing all the beauty she would ever see. Her dark hair would cascade down the back of her white robe, the plaits thick and glossy. Such deep bottomless eyes were hers, soaking up the cinnamon heat, the blue shadows, the surface of everything.

And then she would straighten her shoulders, eyes ahead, the load in her arms steady. She would continue her daily pattern over again, as if weaving a delicate carpet with which to soar above the sand. But not to soar away; rather to float high enough to touch the glyphs with a finger that ached for the smooth shorn grooves, chiseled perfectly by a hand that had not known life in her century.

"Know Thyself", she would murmur sing-song, it's ring and tone following her, echos like smoke in the wind. An echo that seemed to ask, 'Who are you?'

Then came a new day. It was the same morning as it had always been, in order, season, memory. Until she paused beneath the precise curve of the heavy-set arch. The sun did not glint. It diffused, filling the back of her eyes with foggy white drifts. As she searched the rock face for the grooves she knew so well, the light bombarding her vision focused. Slowly, a black-blue velvet curtain beyond the light fell.
Blinking, she witnessed the darkness of the night sky as it filled the air about her, it's inky arms embracing. The stars became many, the same whiteness, brilliance, radiating from them as the first light. Confusion welled inside her, closing her throat. Wildly, her mind struggled to comprehend what her eyes told her. What was this mid-eve, falling down over day? Where were her beloved words she trusted so? The Temple had dissolved!
In astonishment, she took a fumbling step backwards, breath gliding into her flattened lungs. The night lit upon her sleeves and drew itself around her tight, tighter.
And then she was looking down, into herself, a Universe unfolding. The stars, the light, was she; and night the space between. Every sip of air was vacuum, and every wall of her body burst to nothingness. Her single thought was a great sun, spiralling at the core. Through the black space she laughed without sound, whispering "Know Thyself". And no echos came.

Dear Angie,
I called yesterday, but I guess the idea of speaking to me had excaped you. It's been a long time since the fire, I wish you'd let it go. It wasn't your fault. All of us want you home, we want you back here with us. This is where you belong, not out there. The world is too cold for you, the air is too thin. It's not that we don't think you can make it. We're not questioning your strength, we just wish you'd come back.
The fire destroyed a part of us all, but it wasn't your fault. We all came out okay, but you're not the same, the part of you that's missing is missing from us all. We want you to know we didn't do this to you and we wish you wouldn't do it to yourself. We love you and we want you home. Everything is still here waiting for you when you decide to come back.
Doug sends his love, and so does Merri. Brittan wishes you'd call. We made it though, you will too.
Please come home, we need you. We love you.
Cameron

Hey, great writers. No blood or tears... Just poetry and red lips. Here's an immediate story for you:

I had no pencils, no paper, no nothing. But I went to the street and I got a lot of things just by passing by. Howard lent me his culture and wisdom, Jerry E. his gun, which I sold right away to an enemy of the capitalists (he was from Seattle), Rachel enveloped me in a mysterious embrace which froze my heart (I was a werewolf but I am now also a vampire) and Erin made me cry on her lap. Man Ryan (sp) took a photo of us all, great writers, and gave me $20. Now I'm rich. Only A* gave me nothing. He thinks I'm a white lily. Lyrical writers like him are good-for-nothings.
(This story is not very good, but the intention was great).

A drop fell from her eye, a tear? No she doesn't cry, It was Something else, a bead of sweat perhaps. She was stronger then this, she angered herself with her weakness. Her sister would not wish her to morn for her, not as long as she had. Her sister would hate her for her weakness. She would keep her safe, her sister would, from all harm's way. No one can comfort her anymore, Only her sister could, but she was gone now.

She was alone now.

Today, my muse visited. She sat upon my shoulder and whispered sweet tales of sadness and murder. I could but write them down and deposit them within the short story wookshop.

A Rose on my Desk

"There is a rose on my desk," I told my friends one day. They looked at the chaos of my papers and books, and saw nothing. I knew that their horizon was confined by what they pompously called reality, and was not surprised to be greeted with an expression of amazement, first, pity, when I insisted that the rose was there. I was supposed to always tell the truth, and some of them became mildly worried.

For some days I insisted that there was a rose on my desk. I wonder if, amidst the confusion of their embarassed thoughts, they could see more than their own nose, though the rose was visible, it was beautiful, and, frankly, it was clearly the pretty mouth of my wife's picture.

"Maybe you should see a doctor," advised the most caring of my friends.

Tired of being right, I put a real flower on my desk and, on the next day, I said:

"There is a rose on my desk."

They did not even look at it. They did not laugh and did not cry. They carried me on their shoulders to the nearest asylum, where I am now writing to you, eating pancakes and swearing that there is a cat under my bed.

The problem of those who only trust reality is that they do not see it.

The sounds of music, laughter and merriment filled the room. It was a gathering of many that they knew. Above the voices and song Sarah heard the call of her love from across the room "Look at me." Sarah excused herself from those she had been visiting with and turned towards him, "I see you."

Saul's handsome face was unusually serious. He straightened from where he had been leaning against the wall. "No, really look at me."

Something in his tone gave rise to concern in her. She looked at him with a very keen eye, saw his image seem to shudder. The reality around him quivered. Before her eyes he transformed into a wolfish man. She inclined her head: "I see you."

The others in the room receded as he began to move towards her. His motions filled with fluidity and grace. He came to a halt an arm length from her. His breathing somewhat ragged, spittle running from between his sharp teeth: "I said look at me."

Sarah noted that when he spoke his lips no longer moved. She momentarily wondered where his voice was coming from. She decided it was hardly worth her concern. He had changed again while he had approached. Now his flesh was gray, waxy, shimmering and wet. His physical form had taken on monstrous characteristics. She knew that he should terrify her, but he did not.

She met his gaze, taking his large hairy hands in her own: "I do see you. I see all that you are and can be. You are a man and a beast. You my love are only human."

Ah yes our ancestors, where would we be without them?
My Maternal grandfater was the son of a french aristocrat's daugher and a stable owner in Denmark. When Germany took over the part of Denmark where he lived, he was drafted into the Kiser's army. Being stationed in the stables near the coast, in his words "I stold the fastest horse in the Kiser's army and road him to the coast." He came to America, bringing the stolen horse with him. His wife was the daughter of a French Canadian. Her mother died and her father re-married a woman who made the step-mother in Cinderella seem like the good witch of the North. When she was a very young girl, her step-mother murdered her twin brothers, so there would be more food for the family, and to feed the child she carried in her womb. Learning of the murders, my grandmother confronted her, and was promptly beaten nearly to death with a stove poker. Escaping, she made her way to a neighboring farm where she related her tales of woe. Since it cost greatly to have the Sheriff come out and investigate such things, the neighbors decided to handle the punishement themselves, as was the custom in those early days, in the west. Since the woman was with child it was decided that they could not extract revenge upon here, and her husband was not involved, so he was left alone. She did however have a brother who lived nearby, and was nearly as evil as she. One day, while the brother sat in a chair on the front porch visiting with his sister, a shot rang out, and he was killed. Taking the warning to heart, the family fled to Michigan, where their decendants live to this day. My Grandmother stayed at the farm where she found refuge, where as it happened, my grandfather was staying, having made his way west and worked the farm with his cousin who owned the farm. Such was the way of life back then. Some day when I have more time and space, I could relate how my Fathers parents came from Sweden, but is not nearly as interesting.

Jerry

Gariess- I come from a pretty elaborate background as well. My French ancestory came from a French soldier who helped to fight in the revolutionary war. His fellow troops were scheduled to return to their ship and set sail for home, but he had such a great love of the country (and was captivated by a woman who lived here) that he hid out in a graveyard all night, ignoring the calls of his friends just to stay in America. Perhaps I'll write a short about it some time in the near future.

As for Americo's respect, we all can't be perfect and Portuguese... but wait, I'm being redundant here.

Heather- it's Aufweidersehen. :) 5 years of highschool German and this is how I use it... my teacher would cry if she only knew.

Gotta run, luv ya all!

Cassandra

In honor of Shortie night, here is one, although it is late being posted in the Morning, had a bad night last night and was unable to visit the notebook.

The Letter
A short short by
Jerry A.G. Ericsson


A Soldier sits at a table outside a small quaint French restaurant in Sigon, pen in hand.

My Dearest Darling. He wrote.

I sit here, somewhere in the jungles of Viet Nam. Should an enemy bullet take me tonight, know that my last thoughts would be of you.

Last night, we had a fire fight, tracers crossed into the night. You remember I wrote you of my friend Ralph, well he didn’t make it, his body will be shipped home tomorrow.

Please know I will do everything in my power to get home to you knowing that you will wait for my return. Must sign off now, as the light is leaving, the war is so frightening in the dark.

All My Love
Ron.

Folding the letter, he sips from his glass of cognac. Well Ralph, lets hit Tu Do Street, and see if we can find ourselves a couple of boom-boom girls. He smiles as they leave, and tips the waiter with two twenty-five cent bills of Military Script.

What's that they say about great minds? Mary posted a similar tip in the short story area about the same time I posted it here. That's scary!
:-)

howard

CHARLES: Check the short story workbook. I left you a message.

AMERICO -- Not at all -- it *is* getting large again. I merely wished to point out the fact that there is no need to load it again just to get to the posting area. Even with a cable modem it takes too long to do that. Pressing CTL-END makes that second load unneccessary, especially if you're paying by the minute for access, as I understand some notebookers outside the US must do.
howard
PS I'm only trying to help my fellow notebookers...
howard
PPS What comes after PostScript is PostPostScript
howard

Howard,

are you trying to tell Jack that Jon is wrong and that this page is not overloaded? (Mainly because of the picture of his ... desk)? Traitor!

PS How do you write PPS?
PSS? It should be PPS (post post scriptum) but I don't know. Relying on your expertise on things linguistic,
yours truly,
Americo

Hi --

Another tip -- for those who click on POST NOW, then grow weary waiting for the page to reload befor getting to the posting area:

For NETSCAPE users (and maybe IE also) just hit CTL-END and pop right down to the posting area!

Saves time and you have a better chance of remembering what you wanted to post in the first place!

BTW, CTL-HOME takes you to the TOP of the page...

howard

I had to way 9 minutes and thirty seconds for the page to reload and I could correct a mistake in the message below. I am a proletarian and have no cable modem (or cable TV). And I hate capitalists. (I do not even have a computer).

The sentence is:

Perhaps Jack still LIVES (not leaves) here.

PS I do not have a pencil.

PPS I only have my genius, but even this was borrowed from a sentence by Oscar Wilde.

PPPS. In short, I have nothing, but I am happy. If only I could have a little room here to write my best sentences!

Trudy, Jack does not live here anymore.

Notebookers,

Tonight is the most interesting night in your lives. On Heather's request and in honor of the birthday of Maria Emília, Americo's wife — who disaproves of his wasting time with the Notebook and needs to be conquered to our cause — tonight each (decent) notebooker must leave a little shortie on this page. Make it short, bright, original and very beautiful.

See you tonight and many kisses.

PS Of course we need room for the shorties. Perhaps Jack still leaves here after all.

....And the award, for 'No Sentence of the Day' goes to ARIK!!! (crowd sreams in unison)

Wear art, it is thine trophy.
I forged it myself, with rusty horseshoes, titanium screws, diamond headed Dremel bits, and some leftover Bits 'n Bites.

Now if none of this makes sense, or sentences,
go back to the top and press the history eraser button.

ZZZZAP.

Where are ye all, in the fair moonlight of Monday?
Americo, Jon, Pussy, the trine,
Please take it upon yourselves to light a candle under some of the NB asses
and start a short shortie night again?
I won't beg, but I'll plead.

Guilty, since I haven't been posting them either.

Heather

Tina, in answer to your question, the archives are accessed right at the top of this screen, that is, the notebook page; when you go to click on the 'post now button', look to the left and there is an archive button as well. That's the archives for the notebook itself, not the workbook.(?)
The archive pages in the workbook only include the three of 'Strawberry and A Moon', which is in the 'round robins' category. Other archives I haven't seen.
But maybe Jack will open up that drum for us?
I recall (Charles, was it you?) someone commenting that the poetry posted from last month has disappeared since there have been so many new posts. Perhaps those archives are accessable through the archives button on the NB page. Try the search in the archive page.

Anyway,
there's my drivel of the day.

I'm off to write something steamy. Well, it was a humid afternoon... No. Wait. The night was sultry...

(badly paraphrasing 'Throw Momma From the Train')

Anyone know of a really great movie about writers? Other than the aforementioned one?
And other than the one with Chevy Chase; we're talking NOT a farse. "Angel At My Table" was excellent, looking for other movies for those down evenings when I feel zapped for words but not tired enough to cruise on into the Z.
(Cruise control, set on recline)

I am in the middle of the second scene, chapter 4, and I am enjoying the exquisite yet forboding position that totters between pain and pleasure... yeah. I've got the idea in my head and am taking my slow time about writing it...the pain the pain! The terrible, lovely, wonderful fire! Make it slow and delicious. I'll write more slowly just to treasure it. And then, suddenly, tear through three scenes until I'm flushed with the force of creating.
If not pain and pleasure combined, what would fill my mind once I've finished - the entire book?
For it must then be sent forth from my hands. And that is a pain I most certainly will endure, and anxiously await it - and yet recoil from all in the same moment.
Just as I'll devour a rejection slip, or a letter that welcomes my words to the published page.
(were we all sucked into that same dream? No. It's reality, by definition then.)

What is inner turmoil, expressed in outer form?
A story. A poem. A letter. A song.
What is inner calm, lit for all eyes by passion and truth?
A parable. Advice. A postcard. A liturgy.

~~~~~~~~~~#*$&)$#&^_(did you really get that moth on 'g', Gariess? tee hee)

Ignore everything I said, in a fit of dying brain cells,
and let's just call it a night.
Sayonara, bon voyage, Alweidersein (Alvedersane?)
ta ta.
Heather

Teekay,

I am still here. Just lurking most of the time. I'll have more to say later.

Rhoda

Heather - I loved the review (big happy smile)!

Goodweed - Smiles for yah.

Hey all,

this weekend has been so busy for me... BLAH

Anyway,

MARY, I'll definatly post some of my works.

LITTER, wow, you sure know you family history...

Methinks the anonymous poster has a familliar ring to his/her exercises. E-mail me. If you are who I think you are, I lost your address due to a software foul-up. I found an old address and sent an e-mail, but it came back to me.

Rachel; The summers may be short, but they are richly appreciated.

Seeeeeya; Goodweed of the North

Hi all.

My husband keeps wondering what I'm laughing at. 'Wierdiousity'? Much fun and laughter to be had reading the day's comments.

I've read some postings in the workbook and am anxious for more as soon as I make some time. I'm not quite sure about the crits; is it generally prefered to e-mail them to the authors? The crit page doesn't have as much as I'd expect, so I'm guessing that e-mails are prefered. And are there archives of old postings anywhere? Can't find them if there are. Help!

Trudy,
Considering the line at that book signing, I was grateful for the short conversation with Mrs Gabaldon. After listening to her and talking with her I decided that the time I spend writing is worth it, that there is hope. If I develope HALF her talent... (enter my own dreamworld)

'til later
T.J.

The Unknown Poster is in the corner wearing the Hayden Grayell Memorial Lampshade, because the Unknown Comic refuses to remove the paper bag.

Actually, the only thing I remember about the personal ads is that they all had one thing in common. They were all placed by "reasonably attractive" people. I never saw: "Really ugly guy interested in long walks on the beach, music, and romantic sunsets."

I found out why when I went to the beach one late afternoon. There were all these reasonably attractive people walking back and forth playing violins; there must have been a hundred. Then, there was this one bunch of really ugly guys in a small group watching the sunset. One of them put his hand one one of the others, but he got slapped. I never read the personals after that. I pretty much stayed away from the beach, too.

GS

That's Groucho lives, if you haven't guessed.
GS

Hi everybody,

Teekay,

Sorry about you waiting anxiously, but the ending of the story is the part that is lost. I still have the WB copy to work from, though, and I will email you soon. (In case you get too anxious try this: The butler did it.)

How is, it that after when you, go back over stuff that you, wrote there are all these commas in places, you never put them in in the first place. Hey.dmeqdklrwhrt['dsldmneodcnqggggggggggggggggggggggggggg Sorry about that last thing. I was trying to kill a moth on my keyboard, What I was doing on my keyboard I'll never know. (Grouch lives!) I finally got him on the g.

You know, you guys talking about Celtic stuff remind me of something I never wanted Americo to find out. My Grandmother was Irish and my mother is from expatriate Colonial American people - British loyalists who escaped to the Canadian Maritmes. For all of my paternal surname I am no more Portuguese than I am Irish, technically.

Still, things are worse for Mister Higgins down the street who's half Irish and half Scotch. One half of him is dying for a drink but the other half refuses to pay for it.

Sorry, Hayden made me do that. Please make all your complaints directly to him.

GS

Hi all, could someone please help me (direct email won't clutter this site-but respond as you wish) When I try to post a short story I paste it into the "Posting Area" of the short story section but it gets posted instead to the crit. page. What am I doing wrong? HELP!

hEWO EVEWYBODY, OH BUGGER THAT CAPS LOCK!

Guess where I am *sigh* gloom, whinge.


I bet the mysterious poster is none other than.......MARY. Hah! I'm onta ya girly.
Actually it looks really interesting. I am going to contribute my part later when I am at home. What fun!

HOWARD: I haven't received your book yet, though I have been consoling myself with 'the regulators' by Richard Bachman (yeah right!)
Thank you ever so for missing me. My hubby misses me all the time. His aim is lousy.

TRUDY: yes please! I love funny stories, just ask DOT! I shall be awaiting it anxiously.

GARIESS: Speaking of awaiting anxiously, just send the end of the story in an email to me. Talk about a cliff hanger.
By the way, are you a gemini?

RHODA: Hope you're having fun out there and not neglecting the notebook.

CHRISTI: Chin up, gloves on. I'll email you later.

Guess what!!! I got my first rejection slip back yesterday and it took them 6 months to do it!!
I wasn't really upset about it though. They said the story was too short, but not that it sucked, so I still have hope that I may oneday get a short published.
I'm going to post my poor old story in the s/s workbook later when I get home if anybody wants to take a geek.

I'd better go and do something I guess.

Ooops! Looks like today's "Fresh Air" isn't available for listening until tomorrow.

SASQUATCH -- VEERRRRRY FUNNY! But that's one of the oldest jokes in the book. I hope those fresh greens make you poop yourself skinny!

ALL -- There was a great interview today on "Fresh Air" with Terry Gross on NPR. She interviewed Francine Prose, author of "Blue Angel," a story about a love affair between a college English professor and one of his students. The book sounds pretty good, and Ms Prose (who is apparently a writing teacher herself) gives quite a bit of insight into writing, critiquing, and teaching writers. The program is available in RealAudio on the internet, at:
http://whyy.org/freshair/fara.html
Give it a listen if you can, or look for the transcript. I'm going to do both, as well as buy the book.

UNKNOWN POSTER -- That personal ad challenge sounds interesting! I had a sketch started for a story called SWF, about a woman who posts an ad like that, and the consequences are not exactly what she had in mind. I'll see if I can dig it out.

Gotta run -- have to pick up my grandkids at baseball practice. It's raining, and they "might melt if they get too wet!" NYAHHH HAAA HAAA!


howard

hello...

I was going to say something, but reading four days worth of posts...but...I...dont...feel...so..well....

The whole room is spinninng.

Next time I want to drink, I'll just come here...it's cheaper.



XAvruier

Hello notebookers,

My thanks to Teekay and Charles for your remarks on PORNCOP. Hopefully I can follow up the first chapter with more of a similar calibre. Most of chapter two is ready and I will post it when I complete the rest. (Hugs to both)

MY desk is under reams of paper for my latest venture so I can't see very much of anything else at the moment except all the snippets of encouraging clichés and some wilting wild flowers.

I'm so busy with my latest soon-to-be-announced project (soon being any time between tomorrow and next millennium) that I haven't had time to do any more than scan the recent messages. It seems so unfair that in the UK when you are all playing we are tucked up in bed with Brother Cadfael (naughty monk ) or fast asleep. Oh well.

Must dash, TTFN,

Dot

Hi all, just completed an article and am taking a break before thinking up more story ideas and finding markets. Thought I'd spend some time catching up in the notebook.

Mary, my desk is a mess! OK let's take a look...computer stuff, jar with pens and pencils, candle, phone, glass of iced tea, cup of cold coffee, calculator, post it notes, beany horse, decorated guord a friend made for me, all my notes for the article I just finished, my to do list.

Gariess, I'm not going anywhere though I wish I were half as witty as others on this list!

Teekay, I care that you're blue! Never suffer in silence! I recommend more chocolate and tea! And if you'd like I can share a humour story I recently wrote (under 800 words) and it might make you at least smile! Let me know and I can email it to you.

OK, Teekay, read your more recewnt post that you aren't blue anymore. YIPPPEEE! but I still want you to know I care! And i'll still share my story if you'd like.

Heather, of course that advice helps...now to put it in practice. Actually I do have a big folder filled with ideas. I guess the problem is finding markets and organizing then pitching the stories ... I'm still pretty new at this and it does seem to be getting a little more organized. Guess it'll fall into place eventually.

Tina, welcome. Boy sounds like you had a nice conversation with Diana Gaboldon. I just love meeting writers who like to chat. Most of them just want to sign and get on to the next book. I understand in a way when they are popular and have tons of people waiting...wonder what I'll be like when my novel is published and I'm doing a book signing...*Trudy goes off into dream world* oh sorry about that...I think I'd be jumping ecstatically if I ever get published.

Tina, Mary, Erin and all the other newbies welcome as well!

Jack, hi and quick question...can I update my bio?

Christi, I send you strength as you look after your mom in law. It's tough I'm sure but I know you'll do just fine.

OK, I wanted to respond to as many posts as possible but have run out of time so to any I have missed hello. I am thinking of you all often. I shall return.

Trudy

Allein - Ahhhhhh, I see (grins).

Rachel - I cleaned my room before you came, like really super cleaned it. And I don't clean my room for just anyone - you're special. :)
Allein

Howard person why are you to wonder at where do I plug in my word box near my home in the forest there is a current bush near. Ha Ha I sasquatch have a largely humor sense also do not? Also have too much new green plants for eat I must go.

Hi all, so sorry for what is probably another error. I was sure I was posting a short story in the proper place but it now sits confused as I, on the crit. page! Maybe, one day, way down the road I'll get the hang of this. Apologies to all. Hmmm...I wonder where this will arrive?

Today is the day of the workers. A holiday to me.

*Suddenly frightened*
Arik: you promised not to award the prize for the most stupid sentence, didn't you?

Here's a really good sentence (just in case the previous one does not work):

All the sky is mine, but your eyes are my most precious possession, potensssion, ssiponsion. (OK, forget it).

Heather,

A star and a moon mysteriouly sitting on your desk? Given the fact that, according to Rachel, A*' s desk is lovely - your desk, being lovely, is not yours but A*'s — and therefore mine.

I'm an expert on the syllogisms of the individualistic mind.

(Arik, will you please look at the sentence above? Thank you).

Oh yeah, and twas I that has Allein's pictures on my desk, but they're not pictures OF her, rather pictures drawn with her talented hands, of the characters that she writes with. :)

Hi all,

Howard's book might have a layover here in the upstate region as that I won't really be able to give it my due time until the latter portion of next week... Needless to say I'll try my darnedest to send it on ASAP after finishing it.

English class calls, a mindnumbingly mundane yet inarguably versed voice, pulling, gripping my ears and more importantly my responsibility, that lurking bubble in my stomach prone to tighten at the tiniest thought of wrong doing, straining like a nervous mother's throat, until I find myself fading, ever attentive to the swiftly draining pool of energy I once thought I possessed, but that seems now to be only a mirage, a resource beyond command, beyond reason, rising and falling however it may as I simply sigh, grasping with oiled fingers, while attempting to regain my temporary guise of sainity for the measly hour of lecturing.

I don't like English class cause it's boring.

Does that work for your sentance exercise? The first is 104, I believe, the second 8.

Catch y'all later

Cassandra

Write a story inspired by a personal ad.

An exercise in character and plotting. In a good (or at least interesting) personal ad you
will get a sense of the writer's physical, emotional, or spiritual characteristics (at least as
portrayed by the writer). Now, what sort of person might respond to this ad? What sorts
of results might such a meeting have? What if no one responds to the ad?

Rachel - Another good one of Bach's!
If you can, grab a copy of 'Jonathon Livingston Seagull',
or another of my favourites, 'Illusions, Adventures of A Reluctant Messiah', and if you can find a soft cover copy of 'There's No Such Place as Far Away' then grab it, but if not, just read the hardcover in the bookstore - it'll take no more than ten minutes, hiding in the stacks!

The hardcover of "...No Such Place..." is quite expensive.

Americo, there is a star and a moon come to sit upon my desk today. Did you send them?

"Avoiding Run-On Sentences and Other Grammar" by Howard Tuckey

"...Blatheringly great...a real twist and turn...masterpiece... of the incredible, indelible, fantastical... a million-dollar sentence of a book."

---The New York Review.

"What Gives My Soul Life" by Rachel Olson

"...The coin of genius...plied from all angles, inluding the thin and thick...to give a startlingly focused...close-up view of the light that burns in the Heart of Canada - a bright one."

---The Vancouver Summit.

Allein - You funny thing you! Your desk was very tidy when I was there.

ALL - Allein has a very tidy desk!

Americo - Your desk sounds lovely:D

Heather - GEZZ (smiles). Yer makin me blush. I think pretty highly of you as well. I do have a second Bach book. I have not read it yet. I think it is called Running from Saftey.

WIll this do?

One of the cardinal rules of writing has always been "Avoid run-on sentences" -- the kind that go on and on and tend to clog up the thought processes as the reader tries to keep up with them, and can actually lead to brain damage in certain rare cases where the reader becomes so confused that he (or, to come down on the side of political correctness, she) totally forgets where he (or she) is going, and why he (or she) has even begun to read the document, or letter, or memo, etcetera, in the first place, which can be horribly unproductive in an area and at a time where and when productivity has become paramount, and is the factor by which our society (which, arguably, has become too focussed on this type of activity) has come to measure the worth of any individual claiming or otherwise occupying a key career position in our increasingly career-oriented social environment -- insofar as such a position can actually be claimed by an individual, rather than by a group of individuals banded together by goals such as are analagous to the drones in a hive mentality -- mindless atomatons, unknowingly bored to tears by the mundane existence which is their lot, and which has probably been forced on them by well-intentioned individuals who taught them in grammar school to "Avoid run-on sentences."


In fewer words:

Short sentences aren't always a good idea.

howard

PS TEEKAY -- Where did you go? I miss you!

Hi all,
Since the biography of the desk seems to be the soup du jour, I'll tell you that mine is 18 ft long, 4 ft. wide and as pristine as snow behind a tavern before it opens. No junk, no mess, no pee in the snow. I also write fiction. Pure fiction.
:>)

I have no desk.

I have nothing on my desk.

On my desk I have just me.

On my desk I have only my thoughts and memories.

What happened on the poetry workbook page? Everything that was posted the whole month of April and the end of March is gone.

Nice work BTW Heather. :-)

Heather,

Glad you laughed.

Jerry,

Sorry you didn't.

Teekay and Americo,

The story is gone again. Sorry as I am, I will have to rewrite the rewrite. I kept trying to post it into SM last night but I couldn't get the whole thing to implant for some reason. I did as you said, Teekay, not using the scissors and using the COPY option. This worked on the first few attemts but on the fourth or fifth try it just disappeared. It also disappeared from the floppy, no doubt because I had left it in the drive after copying it to WORD. I guess writing this stupid story is to become a new repetitive task in my life. Does anyone have a guess as to what is wrong? I have also lost the WORD COUNT option from the TOOLS list.

Dirty rackenfracks B^&^*%D G#%D*%M Computer, %*^& (&*^.

GS

Hey there, Goodweed,
I have found no other lake such as Superior. But it is not the only lake to live up to it's name. Think Lake Erie... Lake Ontario - well,'Ontario, keep it beautiful'? I don't think anyone took that to heart, as the evidence clearly shows. Huron. Lake Huron. Cold. Brrr. But a great lake it sure is. More like the tail of Superior.
Michigan. Oh, can't forget. Michigan the name - reminds me of a chip wagon, rather than a Native tribe. Must be all the fried food taking over. Not that I've ever been on the lake much. Now the Detroit river - thaaaat's a fast food chain. Or should I say a fuel chain?

S.S.M. Hmmmm. Neat to find someone else who knows the place. I don't remember much of the stores and restaurants there, besides cheering when we finally got a new mall after the Station Mall nearly fell over in exhaustion. But the Cambrian Mall was rather dreary and bowling alley-ish. Not a big improvement.
I remember the YMCA, it had a runner's track on the roof. From the just beyond the top of Pine hill, (back towards the 'P' patch) you could see little white legs (not much of a summer in the Soo) and coloured shorts and t-shirts making laps up there. Pine Hill. Now that's a hill! Almost like San Francisco that one. Maybe worse.
Imagine tearing down that in the dead of winter, the feel of tires skidding on ice. Cedar point rollercoasters were not something I looked forward to on vacation.

I must end this post, for fear Americo will send me an axe in the mail.
Cassandra, your package with Howard's book is on it's way... tomorrow.
It's rather late Sunday night to be sending it.
And the mail doesn't go anywhere up here on Saturdays.
Ta ta
Heather

Oh, and P.S. I posted a tangle of poetry on the appropriate page in the workbook, but I should warn you. Well, nevermind. I'm too sleepy. Heed!

Hello, my many-talented and -faceted friends...
And no, I was not talking of how many faces each of you has.
In fiction, we can be faceless.

Rachel, I make no attempts to reach beyond the 154 words, but for perhaps somewhere in the range of 100 I will aim.
The absentee poster might be Teekay - or Laura, who has given us previous challenges by way of an English prof.
Or, the anonymous might truly be that.

Anyhow, I delay my long sentence out of dread. Do I have to make it sensical?
Or will senses' antonym suffice?

I will get on with it. And BTW Gary, (GS, Gariess)
I laughed until the flowers shouted at me to shut up.
It's spring and they do not wish their growth to be disturbed.

~~~~~~~~

On a mindlessly hot afternoon, the people wilted as flowers did once cut. She watched them through the screen of her second floor window, lazily dangling their feet in the fountain to enjoy what must have been cooler water than the droplets that hung in the air, creating such humidity that the fog banked across the upper torsos of every greying building even in the heat; the clouds had all flown down to the valley and here were the crowds, tempting the ice-cream sellers - whom had made the sidewalk their indescriminate home in order to finance the cars they retreated to sunburnt and rich - to faint with the feel of ultimate windfall, and she rode her heels up the wall and dug her fingernails into her knees with desire for the vanilla cones.


Hmmm...
that is a long winded sentence by far.

Whew! Now I'm all out of the hot air I do so love to spew here.
G'night!
And my desktop is jealous of Americo's. It's a long way to the kitchen to sniff those roses.

Heather

My desk? Desk? Desk? Oh! That huge pile of papers and junk in my room. Yeah, I THINK there's a desk under there somewhere.
No, I'm just kidding. There are a few papers on my desk, a silk-covered Chinese box and a silver paper box with papers inside. Yes, my room is fairly clean. I know Rachel, you're having a heart attack about now out of disbelief. But don't worry, it's not THAT clean. There's no way I could actually sit down at my desk and do any work.
Ciao,
Allein

Now I am uncertain. I spent under five minutes on that little ditty. I hope it isn't too lame.
I did run it on a spell/grammar check. It is apparently just a very long sentence.
Ahhh, the run and I... How we go back (grins).

Now I am uncertain. I spent under five minutes on that little ditty. I hope it isn't too lame.
I did run it on a spell/grammar check. It is apparently just a very long sentence.
Ahhh, the run and I... How we go back (grins).

Gariess - Hast thou not heard of WORD ART - methinks he dost protest to much!

Anyhow, sometimes one spells works the way they should be spelt not the way they r

Jerry

My sentence has 154 words. The second sentence has 9 words. I think that the 9 words say just as well what the 154 said. Is this a short version of the short story vs novel? What is this about?

TO THE ONE WITH NO NAME - Let me play, let me play. Let me leave you my words on this day...

I look upon all the shattered images of my life and it is then that I come to appreciate all that I do have; life, love, depth, spirit, mind body soul, dance together in a breathless embrace of passion and love, life and extension of self, gripping, longing, reaching, stretching for all that is true in the world, all that brings clarity, definitive structure, grace, beauty of boundary, love of all and each of these things make my heart sing, makes me know that the shattering of my soul was not in vain, let me know that the never ending plucking and subsequent stitching from the wounds of reality is worth every moment of anguish, if only to give voice to the longing of my heart, to give voice to the song of my soul, to be heard, if only for a moment, to sing, sing, sing to the world, oh hear me now.


Listen to my heart, my life, and my song.

PS - If I didn't do this right let me know.

Write a sentence of one hundred words or more. Then write a sentence immediately
following of ten words or less.

An exercise in expanding your personal writing style. Most beginning students write the
same sentence pattern over and over again: subject/verb/object. Experiment with dashes,
colons, semicolons, and don't forget that brevity is sometimes the soul of wit. For
examples of stylistic diversity look at the works of William Faulkner, T.R. Pearson, or
Charles Dickens.

GARY: I thought Litter's Penisillin was intentional-like a gag.

Goodweed,

Good to hear from you. I may be able to provide you with an email adress for Hayden that will work. Will send via email.

You guys,

You must know how much fun a person can have with the misspellings in the NB. Just for the sake of tweaking you all. I will list a few from the most recent posts so that you can quickly confirm that they exist.

Litter alee (which refers to refuse in the down-sea flow and has nothing to do with misspellings) has a fake bottle marked Penisillin, a dead give-away that something is amiss at the pharmacy since it should be Penicillin. Litter also refers to a food group called serials. Not to be confused with cereals which are the prey of all the cereal killers that they make movies about. Last night I saw one about this guy who obsessively murdered Corn Flakes which he associated with his alcoholic, prostitute mother.

So I won’t appear to be picking on Litter I will point out that Goodweed has invented a new oriental libation called Sake Superior. I think this has genuine marketability. It takes a more serious approach than do the makers of Sake Tume (to me[outrageously condescending of me to have explained that]). Aren’t you glad to back, Goodweed. You must have missed this kind of abuse desperately for all the months you were away.

Litter, I didn’t see anything strange about the things on your desk surface. It’s not like you have pens, pencils and paper clips or anything. I think I have the mate to that artificial Booby. Mine is the artificial Blue Footed Booby of the Eastern Pacific as opposed to the Red Footed Booby which migrates to the same region but has red feet.

And who has a picture of Alein, the dental hygenist, on their desk? This is really amazing, because I keep a picture of a dental hygenist on my desk, but unlike Americo’s it is not a silent picture. You pull a little string in the back and it says, "Don’t forget to floss."

Later,

GS

On my desk I only have a rose and a silent picture of those I love.

Allein, I'm sorry for the demise of your gerbil and will keep an extra moment of silence. I'm also sorry that you did not get the thing to go to Japan, but, you see, you were very much needed in America, and here in Americo's heart. In Japan perhaps you'd get lost.

People, please watch out the sugar level in your blood. You have been eating too many chocolates since Easter (Pussy told me).

Gary S,
I've printed your "Boy" story, but will read it only after you post the second version in SM**. I'll tell you then which is the best (probably the first version, it sometimes happens...)

I had two gerbils. Now I have one gerbil. One died yesterday. Let's have a moment of silence...okay moment's up!

Cassandra - My pictures are important enough to be on your desk? I feel special! :)
Well, I'd like to be a dental hygienist, so I doubt I'd travel to New York and major in art, when there are great hygienist schools in the Northwest.

Litter - That was my tenth grade photo. It's two years old. I've lost weight (at least in my face) since then, and I don't know why my hair looks so red in that picture because it's actually blonde. Anyway, I'd like to have red hair, but if I did, I'd look more like my mother - scary. Plus, everyone at my school is dying their hair red and I don't want it to look like I'm just following the fad.
Bye bye,
Allein

Perhaps it's time to finally take a look at my life. I see myself in the midst of a vast desert. I speak of what yesterday I literarily was, and I try to explain to myself how it is I got here.

Howard,

Thank you for your continuing efforts to educate me in the ways of the computer. Someone made the same suggestion to me in an email. That works just fine for keeping the story in the file but I still can't seem to get the whole thing to come up in the WB post. I have tried a few times but the text in the box always cuts off somewhere short of the ending. Not always in the same place, which seems strange but still, no ending.

Teekay,

I will try sending you the story in an email attachment for now so you can at least hear the other shoe fall. In the meantime maybe I will learn what is keeping the ending from appearing in WB.

Curses,

Later,

GS

Teekay,

Here is a post in lieu of email which is not working right now, once again in that recieve but won't send mode. I have a complete rewrite of The Boy... so I will post it in the WB in Stawberries... I would really prefer to overwrite the first post entirely as the story has undergone some heavy changes and editing. It was not a good idea to post the story as it was. I hate to post without reading everyone else's first but time is driving me right now. I begin to understand some of the folks complaints about time shortage. I'll be back.

GS

Warning!!! Long and boring 'Poor me' post ahead. Anyone who doesn't care to know what goes on in Christi's life right now, SKIP THIS POST!!! To the rest, God bless; love ya; kiss kiss!

Howard,
THANK YOU for the support and well wishes. I feel pretty lucky to have a wonderful family to lean on, although the family on my husband's side (who are the main ones involved here) are kind of a pain to deal with. Without my family I'd be in a mental ward right now, in a rubber-walled room, wearing a size medium straightjacket. Thankfully, things seem to be settling down for now. MIL (as Teekay says) has settled in and I'm actually finding it rewarding to take care of someone I love. And the very best news is that we will be switching every other week off with my husband's sister. That would give us two weeks off a month!!! I don't know if this will truly work out though; his sister has three kids, including a young baby, and a part-time job. I've told the rest of the family to concentrate their help on her end so she and her husband can handle it (and so we can recooperate and get some things done during the weeks we'll get off).
Thanks again for the prayers and the moral support. I can't get enough of those kinds of good things! You know, I wondered how my son's horrible bout of colic could ever be a good thing, but now I realize that without it we never would have been prepared for this amount of work, lack of sleep, and mental stress. Should I thank my lucky stars?

Thanks also for the great Emails. I love opening my 'Howard mail' and getting a laugh. Especially the most recent one: 'True Story' about your friend and the two dollar bill. Funneeeee!!!

Teekay,
You have been awesome to me. You let me bitch your ear off in my Emails and then still speak to me afterwards!! Thanks girly.
I'm SO glad you posted 'The Notebookers'! It's so great I even read it again!

You guys are ALL on my buddy list. Aaaand I believe I'm done mooning now. Silly Christi is due back within a matter of days, hours or moments. Silliness is always on the verge with me, but I is just too darn tired and busy to let it out right now.

Love and warm hugs to all the brave souls who made it this far.

Christi

I'm bored out of my mind re-typing this senseless paper for my Graphic Design teacher. *yawn* So, I figured I'd just wander back to the notebook and tell you all about what's on my desk I've got:

my keys
walkman,
a container of vitamin E moisturizer,
a roll of 1/2 inch masking tape,
a tattered old copy of A Wizard of Earthsea by Ursula LeGuin,
a crappy St Rose pen,
a Speedy Gonzalas Pez despenser,
a box of wild blackberry herbal tea,
14 or so various CDs,
a few Print magazines (a graphic design oriented publication),
numerious strange papers,
my CVS extra card,
a Capricorn postcard my mom sent me,
drawings from Allein,
2 mousepads (the newest a free neat green one from Mohawk paper,
the elder Taz ripping apart a computer),
a manila envelope with my photos in it,
a black onyx bracelet,
a picture of my grandmother,
a fake human tongue (yes there's a story behind it)
copper nail polish
my computer, monitor, and speakers (of course)
one of those hair things that will keep it up in a twist,
On top of the monitor:
my oxford dictionary
old mail,
gouache tubes and brushes
On the side of my computer tower
a postcard that reads "WHOOP-DEE F*ing DO!" {without the censorship of course}

hope you enjoyed this :)
later

Cassandra

LITTER! -- How could I have forgot to mention that I have a Porsche too! It was buried under a pile of papers. It's a 911 Cabriolet also, but it's jet black. I just moved an extra calendar and some seed packets and there it was. I used to own a real Porsche - a '57 Speedster. There's not much I own now that I wouldn't give to have it back.

SASQUATCH -- You certainly are an abrupt fellow. You *are* a fellow, are you not? By the way, if you're really out in the woods, what do you plug your computer in to?

MARY -- I keep going back to your poem "Till We're Together Again" because it is so real. Some dear friends of ours had twin grand-daughters, one of whom died about two years ago from cancer. She, too, left letters and gifts for her husband to give to their children on various birthdays and holidays over the next several years. Such love does not pass with the one who loves. Thank you for that poem.

CHARLES -- Excellent imagery in your poems also! I've been meaning to post something in the critique area, but there's not been time.

D.M.K. -- Welcome to the Workbook, if not the notebook!

GOODWEED -- I haven't heard from SKS in quite some time, though I've written to him. Last I heard, he and Barb Garrett were collaborating on a work-in-progress.

CHRISTI -- We've been through the home care experience, and I know what you're going through. It's not easy, and most cannot handle it, but with the support of family and friends it can be done. Consider us an extension of the "family and friends" and come on by for morale support. We'll be thinking of (and praying for) you.

TEEKAY -- Did "Holding Wonder" arrive? Hope everything is okay "down under." Do you refer to us as "up over?"

GARIESS -- Jerry's right -- don't use the scissors icon, because that actually removes the text from the file you're editing. Instead, try clicking on EDIT, then COPY, after selecting the text. It's much safer. For a pretty good tutorial, check at http://www.arcamax.com/cgi-bin/offer.pl?campaign=ahppt98
for a WIN98 tutorial CD that will help you learn the beast. Arcamax has a whole catalog full of these CDs, including some pretty nice software and kids stuff, and they're all $7.95 US and 9.95 Canadian. Lots of other free stuff too!

I really must be getting busy at something else right now.

C U L
A
T
E
ALLIGATOR

(that used to look cool coming out on a teletype page!)

Hi all! In a glorious mood, because of the temperate weather outside the window, and a beautiful art show put on by my school's senior students. It looks as if the building we procured for holding such a large show might actually be given to us by the city, it'd be a godsend too. Aside from all the repairs it might need, I really think it'll do good things for our art department. :) Everyone is happily awaiting the news on the prospect.

Litter- Yeah, I heard women could actually train themselves to pee into urinals. The strange things people do when they've got too much time on their hands...

Allein- College would be a great time to go to Japan, just make sure not to enroll as an art major here at St Rose. You wouldn't have time to go anywhere in such a case. *sigh* I still hold pipe dreams of visiting Rome, Scottland, and the Orient... looks as if that will be an after-college project though. :(

Well, it's time to write a quick paper, and do some serious work.

May the muse whisper thanks to those that bring fresh thoughts and voices to our minds (Erin, Tina, and anyone else who braved unfamiliarity, who risked embarassment to broaden our horizons)

Later
Cassandra

Heather; That's amazing. The church I attend is on the Ontario side of the border, on Caledon Street. It's by North 82 restaurant where they make an absolutely incredible Ceasar Salad, with other good foods as well. My favorite Chinese restaurant is Sun Kwong on Queen Street where they serve an excellent Chow Mein. I love swimming in the "big pond". I abhor swimming in chlorinated pools and vastly prefer swimming in a lake clean enough to drink from. Sake Superior is truly awe inspiring.

Where do you live now? From your post, it seems clear that you are no longer in Sault Ontario. I moved back to Soo Mich. in 87 to attend Lake State and never left. There are things I don't like about the town, mostly the lack of good paying jobs, but that can be said about a lot of places.

Anyway, nice to meet you. I wish you good writing and success.

Seeeeeeya; Goodweed of the North

Hi All,

Heather - Shucks, I've gone all embarrassed now. Thanks. ::blush::
I have had sausages that I could only describe as tasting 'pink'. I also have some tumble polished Leopard-skin Agate. (As opposed to ground and polished)
As for canine teeth -- there is a school of thought in bio-anthropology that believe that humans could not have developed to the point of language and abstract skills if we had descended from vegetarian ancestors. The argument goes, something like, due to the intensive biological processes of digesting vegetarian materials, grasses, serials and the like, there would not have been an adequate enough blood supply to the brain for the brain to grow and develop the way it has. The blood would be overused in the digestive processes in the gut. That, I suppose, is why cows have four 'stomachs' and small brains. (I know a few people that fit into that category also :o)

Allein - I have just rechecked the bio's page and you have a real face! I mean, as opposed to the cartoon type on your web-site. Celtic too, huh! The red hair is a bit of a giveaway. You look a bit Buffy-ish too, if I may be so bold. (Too late if I can't. coz I've gone and said it anyway :o)

Arik - A message awaits you on your own version of the notebook.

Jerry - you have a point. Normally my hard drive normally doesn't see 6 months before I am forced to reformat it. I'm a sucker for trying out new programs, and Ziff-Davis' ZDNet has lots of goodies, most of which work well… until they meet an enemy program and it is DLL HELL all over again. (DLL HELL - good name for a story anyone?)

What lives on my desk??? It might be simpler to point out what doesn't…

OK, I've all the usual PC paraphenalia, and loads of CD, reference books, pens pencils paper and such, but the interesting (?) stuff is more likely to be among the following:

Video camera pointing at me all the time but never switched on, (getting ready for mega-stardom, interviews, etc..); a mug filled with pliars and screwdrivers, none of which are of any use on my PC, which is emblazoned with "Only my computer understands me"; a 500 hour candle (Y2K refugee); a Lego monster (self-made); a 5" high carved wood Celtic cross; A 6" high ET holding a sprig of heather and ivy, tied with a tartan ribbon; a Porsche 911 Cabriolet, (white); an 8" high alabaster statuette of a Greco-Roman female with water jug; an alien in a perspex pyramid; an alien egg; a Rubick's cube calendar; a mock pill bottle marked Penisillin; two 3" long wooden coffins with pop-up figures; an artificial poinsettia bloom; a selection of drugs; the bottom 5" of my pony tail; (my mother-in-law thought it was too long, so I'm making a gift of it to her :o); 3 dozen assorted tumble-polished gemstones; NA Indian neck armour/choker; a computer-mouse night-shirt and, the crowning glory of my desktop collection -- silicone-rubber facsimile of a boobie (narrow back c-cup, at a guess) meant for use as a drinking conduit when fitted atop a drinks tumbler.

Anyone see anything at all strange in that lot?

Ciao for now,

Litter

PS The drugs are all prescription, even the ones that have 'interesting'

Ooops! Rachel, that was Bach, not Back, but I needn't tell you that. I just realized by stupid typo when I came back online to discover no one has left any messages since mine.

How annoying is that? Finding a typo and not being able to go in and fix it.

Heather

Goodweed! I grew up in Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario. I loved to go for a visit across St. Mary's river to Soo Michigan, and we'd go to the cheesiest restaurant on the planet, but I loved it. It was 'The Antlers' restaurant. You'd know it a few miles away by the green shamrocks all over the outside. And by the taxedermists' paradise inside. The only thing I didn't like were the live lobsters, if you ordered one you were supposed to pick out the one you would eat, and then think about how it would scream as it died in the pot while you waited, surrounded by hanging canoes, stuffed bears (the one by the door had the biggest pink tongue, rather like a strawberry creamsicle), raccoons, deer, squirrels, every animal native to the area and a few that weren't.
If you were a vegetarian, this place would have been sacreligious. As I pledge allegiance to a balanced diet of both flesh and greenery, I was only slightly appalled, and partially sorry for growing carnivourous teeth.

Anyhow, I find it interesting that we have a city in common.
Not too many people know where the Soo is, if they've even heard of it.

We had a cottage on Lake Superior. It's a bit of a cold swim, even in July.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Litter, I think you are terrific. I chose garnet on a whim, thinking how lovely a deep red it is. I just felt it suited you. I don't find it that odd that garnet is your favourite. Uncanny, maybe.
I have two round, polished garnets as well as an impressive amber specimen on my favourite ring, not cut or faceted at all, and they are very beautiful. I love snowflake Obsidian as well, and have some leopard skin agates too. I have an unpolished piece that is very interesting - the blips and circles are separate formations within the stone that are of a more dense or hard nature. They erode more slowly than the rest.
On reply to your pin pointing of Jesus as being the Word, it is true, but if the Trinity be One, I am describing the same presence in effect! A circular 'argument' if we want to call it an argument at all. Get comfy.

And yes, attributing a colour to a taste that otherwise is very difficult to describe I have also done. Grey poupon does taste grey, doesn't it? After, of course, the white-hot sparks have fizzled into ashes on the tongue.

I am glad to hear your mother (in law?) is doing well once more. And Christi, you are welcome for your stone. I hope all will be well with your mother in law.

Rachel, you are so Opal! I adore opal, and I adore your perfect humour. And 'One' by Back is a great book - have you read any other books of his? I might be inclined to recommend ALL of his books, but to list them would be too long. Thank you for thinking me a clear-blue stone. It sounds like a nice colour to be - provided it's not the blue funk that's been passing hands around here lately!
You have purple pens too? Rachel if we lived closer to each other you and I would have to have coffee and gab often! Love ya.

Erin, that was purple me. Hi there!

Welcome to Tina - don't fear dwelling here, it is friendlier than a pervert at a drive - in movie.
Should I have said that?

Allein, don't be blue - you're the amber! I'm sorry you can't go to Japan, but that's YET. If travelling there is your great passion, you will accomplish it. Just be sure to bring me back some silk. Make that ten yards, red or purple patterns ok, please!
Thought I'd get my request in now, since you never know when someone will just pick up her hems and fly there.

Ta ta folks, off to write more on chapter 4...
I'm progressing so slowly I'll be 100 and still posting that I'm writing the SAME novel. Grrrrr.

Heather

In answer to the question, "...How far North?" Sault Ste. Marie, Michigan, right smack on the American/Canadian border, US side of the river.

Hello to everyone. I find some things different about the notebook. I like the "bet, worst, funniest" sentence critique. The atmasphere is freindly, inviting, and cordial. I see some of my old freinds are still here, while sadly, others don't seem to be.

I'll add to the list of people who would like to find Hayden.

Hayden, if you are lurking, please e-mail me as I blew away my Netscape again. I have an e-mail address for you, but when I tried to use it, the message came back to me. Hope to soon hear from you.

Steve Perry; I'm in the same boat with you. Two of my best freinds on the internet and I have lost the e-mail addresses.

Garies, Rachel, Americo, Jon, Pussy, Rhoda, Howard; thanks for the welcome back. So, what have I missed that is revolutionary and/or Earth shaking? Anyone I know get published yet? If so, congrats. How goes the critiques? I hope this place is as vital and energetic as it was before. Jack; Was amused by the picture of your work space. It looks much like my study.

Well, I must leave now. It is a beautiful Saturday afternoon and there is work waiting to be done.

Seeeeeeya; Goodweed of the North

Tina J - Hello. I'm Celtic too by the way and belong to a group of Celtic people at school - we are obsessed with anything and everything Celtic - especially designs. It's nice to know there are others who feel the same way. :)

Well everyone, I'm not going to Japan this summer. I wasn't accepted. For political reasons they chose to send three students from Bremerton High School. I'm not sure why considering that my school was named in the top 2% of schools in the country. Anyway, there are more opportunities for things like that in college anyway so I'll go someday. :)
Bye bye all,
Allein

MARY -- My desk? Besides my monitor, speakers and scanner, (computer's on the floor) I have: Two lamps (I like it bright) a Stew Leonard mug that I was awarded by a user group I supported where I worked, a TI-35X calculator (sans batteries), another small solar calculator, a 20 year old orange (slightly dried out now), a moustache mug, notebooks, bibles, magazines, diskettes, dictionary, bills, checkbook, Kleenex(tm), a Taz doll, phone, 2 stacks of assorted CDs(music and software), sandstone coaster from Arizona, assorted papers and manuscripts, pictures of family, calendars, tape, cinnamon Altoids, etc etc etc. Now I gotta clean it up!

howard

Jon, what to do? this is my nature (beeng modest). Have you been to my page yt? (just kidding).

B.S.: hey man, can you be nice and let othr people have the "best sentance"? We all noticed that you can write smart things but you are not the only one here :-). take this as a compliment :-).

Arik,
this is just to tell you that you have what you asked for the best sentences. Don't be too modest.

Everything is what we are, and everything will be what we will have intensely imagined. The grand, weathered panorama of History, as I see it, is no more than a flow of interpretations, a confused consensus of distracted testimonies. The novelist is all of us, and we narrate whenever we see, because seeing is complex, like everything.

In this moment I have so many thoughts, so many things to say, that I'm suddenly tired, and I decide to write no more, think no more, letting the fever of saying put me to sleep instead, and with my eyes closed I pat and stroke, as if it were a cat, all that I could have said.

Thanks Jon, but I dont know if I have the promition to make my sentances the best sentances :-)... because if I'll have this option then I'll probebly win (hey.. I will rule over the dumbest sentance award :-).

I haven't descided yet what will be the award for you, people so I am sorry... Let me know if you have some ideas... I will be greatfull :-).

Hi again.
My, a lot goes on here in a day!

gariess,
Thanks. I'm taking the plunge....

Erin,
Hello! It's not the amount of celt, it's the quality! I'm happily 3/4's and nuts about anything celtic.

Litter,
Wierdiousity? That's within my comfort zone.

Sasquatch,
I write sci-fi, sort of, right now. I also have fantasy and fiction plots on simmer. My labour of love is a novel I've been working on seriously for about 2 years now, that I began YEARS ago.

Mary,
Can't wait to get into the Workbook. I'm looking forward to reading everyone's work.

Now I know what a boring desk I have! The only interesting things would be my Celtic heat sensitive mouse pad, a big quartz crystal, and song lyrics typed out and hung on the wall. I get the feeling that my abused, falling apart dictionary is nothing unusual.

'Til next time.
T.J.

All - I to have been blue. I seem to be feeling a little brighter these past few days. My blue feeling has been one of those soft romantic sort of blues. I'm pretty okay with it.
My children have been off school for five weeks and I have not had my usual time to myself. I like my quiet days. I have always been a person who likes to have a good deal of time to myself. If I don't get it I tend to feel pent up.
It isn't easy to write with four children and their friends running round having a blast, or worse yet, fighting... ARGH!
All that said I'm feeling much brighter. Yup. I just needed to adjust my perspective (grins).
Hope this isn't full of spelling blips and blaps. If it is just ignore them.
Take care all
Rachel

Tonight's best sentence is Arik's:

"The problem is not to write like me but to understand what I write."

Hilow everyone.

I was going to try to just read the posts for once, as I have been buttkickingly busy for the past few days, but I can't help it!!!

Americo, Love to you.

Teekay, Love to you too. I'm so glad you're out of your funk. Thanks for the smiles!!

Heather, Thank you so much for the stone.

Jack, Haaa!!! Your desk is awesome. I'm no longer ashamed of my own ghastly mess; I'm proud!!

Mary, On my, okay, we'll call it a desk, I've got baby nail clippers, a green frog I call Senor, an antique pen holder which holds no pen, stacks of index cards, tons of writing books, a huuuuuge dictionary I found second hand, a large stone which has the word "imagine" carved in it, pens galore, and the rest you really don't want to know. It's an eclectic mess, rather like my brain.

Arik, Teekay won two prizes! She is the one who wrote the funniest sentence of the day, I am certain!

I have been awfully blue as of late as well. My mother in law has come to stay with us and I am playing nurse around the clock. Her brain operation went pretty well, but she has been left quite incapacitated and needs much help for everything. There's no one else able to take on this responsibility so it has fallen to me. This wouldn't be sooo hard if I didn't have my son to attend to. I wonder what folks without insurance are supposed to do when they need treatment? I guess we'll find out about that one. Enough 'whatever' airing! I just wanted to clue you guys in to why I've been gone, and why I won't be around too much.

Oh, I forgot. Welcome to everyone new here. Welcome!!!!!!!!!!

Love to you all,
Christi

Litter - Oh the format c: was very intentinal, and I did have all my writings backed up on my main computer. I have all my computers in the house networked, and save all my files to my desktop, no matter which I write them on. Now I have had to format the Desktop, not all that long ago, but used the wife's computer to back up the esential items, so never lost on those either. I am a firm believer that every computer should have it's hard drive formated at least once per year, if not every six months, keeps them running much smoother, and repairs the errors that programers make when they write programs for Windows 9X. By the way I hear good reports on Windows 2000 as far as it being self repairing, in that it keeps track of all the DLL files that are replaced by programs, and tries to use the default ones first, so as not to cause such programs aptly described as DLL HELL - which was effecting this machine.

I just wanted to welcome Erin Vanessa Schmieding to our Bios page and a picture to put with the name. It helps, I think, to have something like this to better picture each other. Take care.

sasquatch - The problem is not to write like me... but to understand what I am writing :-). Lets see you do in this one!

Hi All,

Back from a nightmare week, but my mother is again self-sufficient. Thanks to all who wished her well.

Dorothy - way to go! Out of the closet at last then…

Hi Charles. If I have said that before then just put it down to a sucky memory.

Hi Erin. I too am 1/16th Irish and 15/16ths Scottish, but as any Celtic historian will tell you the Scottish came from Ireland in any even - The Scotti were an Irish tribe, as named by the Romans… So I guess all I can say is that I am 100% Celtic. But then again the Celts originated from the lands of the Danube… My head hurts!!!

Hi Tina, I'm sure this place will shortly be well inside your comfort zone. They are a friendly bunch of varying degrees of weirdiousity. (If Shakespeare can make up his own words, so can I!)

WB Trudy and Goodweed (love that name…)

Allein - AOL being retarded again? Did they ever stop? Speak to Dot - she's working on an expose of the biggest software and internet bullies and don't-cares. But if you have internet explorer on a separate shortcut then click on that when you are online with aol. Although aol say that they have integrated IE5 it doesn't seem to work as it should? But, opening up IE5 (or 4 for that matter) will get you places quicker, even on an aol connection. (Dot, OK that is one for one. Want to try for two? ;o)

Heather - are you random snorts, those of animalistic glee, or do you have a little nose-candy habit you'd like to share with us. Don't be ashamed - I used to snort coke, but the bubbles made me sneeze :o) Now then, I'd like to know why you chose garnet for me. Garnet is my all time favourite faceted stone, deeper and richer in colour than ruby and manlier, I think? My favourite polished semi-precioous stone would have to be Snowflake Obsidian. You haven't mentioned that one yet but I have some lovely examples. Leopard-skin Agate is another lovely stone in spherical form.

B.S. Very profound. I think this is very Americoesque?

Casey - there are websites to show those of the female persuasion how to use urinals - with and without artificial aids. (not that I have seen them of course) something to do with feminism and reclaiming territory lost to patriarchal society?????????

Heather again - "Why is Omnipotentcy Himself described as 'The Word'?" Omnipotency does not describe Himself as the word, but that part of the Trinity known as His son, Jesus. But that is enough - don't want to start another Crusade or even a Spanish Inquisition… Comfy chair or not!

Arik, I shall try to have a look at your webpage when I have played catch-up with my mail.

Jerry - I have been the Format C road, and even the Delete Partition road. Not nice - hope you had everything backed-up.

Speaking of the blues, which I am glad to say I have not got, has anybody ever attributed a colour to something they have tasted because it seemed to be the best way of describing it?

Everyone else - Scooby-dooby-dooo…

Ciao for now,

Litter

PS Desktop paraphernalia - hahaha ahahahahahahahahahahahahaha…

Erin and Tina persons I sasquatch will welcome you and hope you to stay. I lurk also most times for I feel that I most times do not have to say very good sentances. I think sentances is new spell of that word but I see Arik using and also some others. If they can use then I sasquatch can use.
What do Erin and Tina persons write about? I must go.

Marry - Yes... The milenium sentance :-).... You can also write about that in the notebook, I'll be very thankfull to you :-)... I just have to make ppl come into my page :-).

Erin - You are not a pest. Feel free to yammer away to me any time.
My hair is not purple. That was Heather (grins). My hair is brown. If you want the exact shade, I would need to look on the box...
I'm 31, have four kids, one husband, a dog and a bunch of fish.
I do like the colour purple, but I favor blue and green.
Take care you
Rachel

ERIN: I will talk to you! Welcome--have you been to the Workbook yet? It is really bustling! Hope to see your work there soon too. (Please forgive me if it is already there and I didn't see it.) There are quite a few "newbies" myself included, and believe me you are very much wanted and appreciated. Write-on!

TINA: The same goes for you! Welcome!

ANDREA:Where did you disappear to?

Tina,

I'm new here too... Nice to meet you! :)

Tina J - welcome to our little group of writers, you will find that we are a friendly bunch.

Rachel,

your desk sounds alot cleaner then mine, I don't want to get started on that... I love purple, and my hair is wine red too! I like plants, but I think I have a black thumb, nothing I plant grows...

I posted my first note the day before yesterday, So I guess I'm just hoping that someone will talk to me, sorry If I'm a pest...

Tina - Welcome:)

Jerry,

You're instructions are too advanced for me. I don't know what a clipboard icon is. I don't even know what a clipboard is. Thank you for trying. What I am still trying to figure out is: why did the last part of the story disappear? I mean disappear from the post in the NB. I would have thought using the SELECT ALL option would have prevented that.

Tina J,

Its rather like junping into the cold water. The best way is to just jump in. Don't make the slow, small, agonizing advances.

GS

Hello All. I've been lurking for awhile now and figure it's time to 'fess up.
This is the complete and absolute first time I've posted anything on the internet, so I'm as newbie as they come, and a little nervous. It REALLY pushes my comfort zone.
Can't wait to read some of the work everyone keeps mentioning. Just lurking around the notebook has made me eager to see what everyone writes!
I didn't even know that this kind of group existed until I spoke to Diana Gabaldon at her book signing and I asked her where an unpublished writer could get input and she suggested the internet! Glad I followed up! I'm still leary about posting my work in such an open forum, but maybe.....

Lurking was WAY more comfortable...
T.J.

ARIK: Sentence of the millenium, really? Thanks!!!:>)

Hey guys... Rachel, Christi, Mary, Jerry, Teekay and Christi... dont you guys wanna check what I answered you in my notebook (hint hint)... :-).

Hey pussy, do you like a milk and vodka drink?

Heather - Hi you:D I wanted to thank you for saying I'm an opal. I think opals are lovely. Ah, and yes, I did read up on them some. I think that they suit me well enough (grins). You I thought of as a very light, but bright blue stone. I do not know my gems very well. I'm talking almost clear, with just a trace of blue burning within. That is the sort of gem that I thought you would be. Honestly thought an opal is pretty good to me. I love all the colours in them.

You said you had the book "One" by Richard Bach on your desk. I loved that book. I have that book on my bookshelf in the other room.

Trudy - I send you a very big smile. It was not intentional. Thanks for understanding. Now you wanted to know what is ON my desk. I don't have to go into all the stuff that I shove into my file drawer do I (grins)?

On my desk from left to right starting across the back, you will find...

- a hair elastic
- a monitor
- mouse on a mouse pad
- two speakers that I use as book ends. They are not of much use otherwise. Yah see, my sound card is blown.
- books between speakers include
- Faust/Part Two
- Mansfield - Selected Stories
- My Journal
- Ackerman - A Natural History of the Senses
- Pokemon - Attack of the Prehistoric Pokemon
- Salinger - The Catcher in the Rye
- Oxford Paperback Portuguese Dictionary
- Saramago - The History of the Seige of Lisbon
- Modern Stories in English
- The Merriam-Webster Thesaurus
- Portuguese Phrase Book and Dictionary
- Faubert - Madam Bovary
- Webster's New World Dectionary

- My printer

On the foreground of my desk

- My bank statement
- A spool of thread (white)
- A glass of water (almost empty)
- My driver's dicence (picture awful, doesn't even look like me - My signature got cut by the digital machine and it looks like I'm D Olan).
- Bank card
- Glasses case (I have to leave it in the middle of my desk or I will forget to wear my glasses. If I forget to wear my glasses I'm not a happy gal).
- A tidy stack of notes.
- A purple pen (I kid you not Heather).
- Two pencils.

I have a bookshelf on the side of my desk. It is of course full of books (grins). A nice fat Encyclopedia that I LOVE. A folder with my drawings in it. My much loved cook book. A couple of manuscripts. I would tell yah all what was on them, but then I would have to kill yah. Bwah, ha, ha, ha!!!!!

My computer area tends to be quite tidy. It has to be. I share this room with my family and the N64.

OH! I didn't mention my keyboard. It is on a roll shelf that I pull out. I like it. It keeps the top of the desk clear for writing stuff.

So that is it from me.

How is that for a LONG post:D

Gariss - the trouble began when you clicked on the scissors, that means CUT, in other words remove all that text and put in your clipboard file. If you want to leave it in, click on the clipboard icon, which means COPY it will leave all the text where it is and place a copy of it on your clipboard. Lots of people make this mistake from time to time, that is why it is best to save your work before any editing, so a copy of it exists on your hard drive. If you ever make that error again, and catch it in time, just paste it back in WORD again and it will still be there. You should be able to go to where you posted it, and highlight the text then copy it to your clipboard and paste it back in WORD, you might have to have WORD open when you go to that posting, so you can bring it right up after you copy the text.

Hope this helps.

Jerry

Arik! Teekay is not a 'his'. She is a 'her'.
Now do I get the dumbest sentence?

Gariess, I was all fired up to read your short story so I hope it's there - after all, if Teekay was able to email it to you - there must have been something there. Ending? No ending? Bah! And you know what to do if you're feeling BLUE:

Don't be blue,
don't be red,
Just wear that
Lampshade on your head!

Say this three times while invoking Stephen King for Teekay,
Richard Bach and Toni Morrison for me, and Dr. Doolittle for Jerry's friend. Oh, and Carmen Electra for Dot!

Heather

Hello people... well, i"m bak with todays sentances :-).
- - - - - - - - - - - -- - - - - - - - - - - - - -- -- - -

and the Finest sentance goes with no doubt to: B.S.:

"Literature — which is art married to thought, and realization without the stain of reality — seems to me the end toward which all human effort would
have to strive. To express something is to conserve its virtue and take away its terror. Fields are greener in their description than in their actual
greeness. Flowers, if described with phrases that define them in the air of imagination, will have colors with a durability not found in cellular life.

To act is to live, to be expressed is to endure. There's nothing in life that's less real for having been well described. Small-minded critics point out that
such-and-such poem, with its protracted cadences, in the end says merely that it's a nice day. But to say it's a nice day is difficult, and the nice day
itself passes on. We must conserve the nice day in a florid and prolix memory, constellating with new flowers or new stars the fields and skies of the
empty and ephemeral exterior. "
- - - - - - - -- - - - - - - - - - - - - -- - -- -- - -
The dumnest sentance goes to Teekay... again for his:

"HHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYDDDEEEEEEENNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN

RRRRRAAANNNNDDDDDAAAAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

EEEEEEEEEEEDDDDDDDDDDDDDDIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEE

SSSSSTTTTTTTTTEEEEEEEEEEEPPPPPPPPHEEEENNNNNNN KKKIIINNGGG."

- - - - - - - -- - - - - - - -- - - - - - - -- - -- - --

The funniest sentance goes to... someone.:

"ATTENTION ALL; YOU SHOULD READ COP PORN - TO NEGLECT TO DO SO IS BAD FOR YOUR HEALTH."
- - - - - - -- - - - - -- - - - - --- - - - -- - - - - - -

Good day to all of you :-)

Okay, Notebookers,

I will have to re-create the ending to THE BOY WHO COULDN'T BE HEARD. How could all but the last part of a Word file paste to the WB. I used the SELECT ALL option from the Edit box. I used the scissor icon to cut. Still, I can't answer how the file disappeared after. I was not prompted for a SAVE option. The file name exists but the file has no text.

Maybe I am being punished. Now, I'm blue. BWAAAAAAAA!

GS

Teekay,

More brilliant than I. I am still glad you did it. I still would have messed it up.

GS

BTW, I'm not B.S., although I've been known as a bull, being Taurus and all. I responded to B.S., usurping some of his/her writing style, finding that the best mode of agreement.

I might have been a natural echo in that respect.
(Sea Cove, Fiord, Islet, anyone?)

Earthy, yup. Could you tell by the seedlings on my desk?
Well, there are more plants in this house than pets and people combined. That's what I guess I'll dub a 'rhetorical
conclusion'.

Jack, though my desk may seem filled with an awful lot of items, it's more organized than it sounds. Yours takes the pound cake. You don't live in 'Tornado Alley' do you? Just checking. I see by your photo you have as many books as the library.

Heather [hic!]

Teekay - I am honoured you bestow me a diamond, but can I just settle on an amethyst? Heather flowers are purple.
So is my hair.

Well, sort of. More like wine colour. Colour is right - I dye it.

Gariess, I laughed aloud when I read the last of your several posts. Hayden - come out come out wherever you are!
Would like a matching shade for this pair of exquisite lamps.

Inventory of Heather's desk:

~Two tin hanging lanterns (that aren't hung up yet) with tea-light candles and little star engravings on the glass enclosures (for writing/reading those romantic stories in SM** of course... omitting Jerry's last meal of barbequed Harry)

~A large, mostly empty glass of pop with a red and white striped straw

~My computer

~A tray of seedlings in peat moss, labelled as to what type of seed is planted where. (My desk is in the corner of the room, with three windows on the front wall (behind the desk) and one window wraps around to the side of the house so my seedlings get lots of sun)

~Pads of paper and a purple pen

~Thesaurus, 1935 dictionary, 1962 Encyclopedia of the English Language (Websters, with gilt-edged pages)

~An ancient school teacher stapler with no staples (they don't make the size staple that fits it any more) :O(

~Copy of Toni Morrison's 'Beloved', Richard Bach's 'One', Zenna Henderson's 'The Anything Box' of Howard's, Writer's Market 2000, An Atlas of the Planets, John Fowles' 'Mantissa', S.L. Sparling's 'The Glass Mountain', Ethel Wilson's 'Swamp Angel', Ayn Rand's 'Anthem'.

~Schematic plans for the deck I am building and just applied to get a permit for.

~pictures and letter the kids have drawn and written

~A decorated tin can (was soup) that holds my calligraphy pen, ink, pencils and an eraser, the hospital bands that were on my son and daughter from their births, and a weekend pass wrist band from the shindig we have in Guelph at the lake each year called the 'Hillside Festival', where over 40 bands come to play continuously over three days; last year on the first night my best friend and I didn't even leave the beer tent).

~A package of blank 20 lb. computer paper

~In my drawers are my plethora of disks, papers, file folders, a plastic envelope for my ms as it is completed and printed chapter by chapter,and a strange plexiglass clip board with my name etched in it that I've had since elementary school;
~CD roms, scraps of paper with neat quotes on them, 'Far side' calendar pages, a fresh piece of black licorice, subtraction flash cards of my daughter's, a Canadian Tire receipt and cappuccino coloured and flavoured lip gloss.

~empty seed packages.



I think I have to clean out my desk. Already!

Thank you Gariess, for saying I deserve a jewel in this bracelet. I hadn't even thought of one for me until you said it. Teekay, diamonds are too bright and clear. Sometimes I'm a little muddled and purple is fine with me.
My daughter's middle name is Amethyst. I liked it because of the colour, the gem, and the fact that Amethyst has hardly any vowels! (well, an a and an e, but the why never makes up its' mind)

Amethyst is a healing colour. So it says in my gemstone book, anyway. Can I live up to purple?
I don't know.
I think I'll light my little lantern and think it through.

Americo, that lampshade is just your perfect hat. Quite dashing if I do say so.

Invocations, by Teekay ~ I do believe I have a digeredoo [sic] and I'll wumple a few 'plthhhbbbs' and 'zeeeezeeee's' into it for the spell to come to fruition. Teamwork pays off! I may have to whip out the rain stick or the violin, and the harmonica and make it an all points bulletin. I might be able to find that old kazoo as well.

Dot - nice to read your posts, keep 'em comin'!
Trudy, I would have to say you'll run out of assignments if you don't set aside the time to think up new ideas. Give yourself time each day if you have to - just a little might go a long way. Keep on top of the fst pced wrld of magazines and news, is to keep the ideas crisp and flowing freely. So fast paced, my vowels went missing for a while there.
I run into ideas (or they into me) all the time. I carry a pad of paper and a pen, and a cell phone which I've used in the car to call home and leave the idea on the answering machine! Goofy, but it worked. I don't have a little pocket tape recorder, but that's my birthday request this year.

Did that help? *shrug, hope*

Arik, funniest sentence of the day should go to both Gariess and Dot.

Whaddya think?

Heather,
opening the wine.

ATTENTION ALL; YOU SHOULD READ COP PORN - TO NEGLECT TO DO SO IS BAD FOR YOUR HEALTH.

GARIESS: I've just discovered that you could have emailed your story to yourself. How brilliant am I?? How brilliant??

Well I was gone there for a little while, got mad at my laptop for having unexplained errors, so gave it the ultimate command FORMAT C: It did it nicely, that was several hours ago, and now it is up and running again, and behaving itself nicely. Sometimes we just have to get tough with our workers to make them behave properly. Sorry to hear that the blues are going around the notebook, it is sad in a nice sort of way. We were having such fun these past few weeks, and now everyone is down in the mouth. Ah well, tomorow is another day, everyone should promis themselves that it will be a much better day, and awake with a smile. The weather has been absolutly wonderful here of late, lots of rain brought forth the bright green grass on the lawns, and the trees are begining to show greenery again, it appears that spring is underway. My bird feeders are being visited by strangers that I haven't seen for many months, it is wonderfull to see them back again, as I know that camping season is just around the corner. We traveld north about a hundred miles a few weeks ago and picked out a new used camper, as our old one is in bad shape. Picked out a nice one, and it is ready for me to go back up there to pick it up, just haven't had the time as of yet. Was planning on going in the morning but the wife told me that we were going the other way for the weekend, as my son and his wife have invited us up for the weekend. It will be nice to see them again, we don't see as much of them as we would like, and our grand daughter is such a joy to be around. There you see, things are looking better, there is fun just around the corner, and life goes on. Better to smile and enjoy it then to sink into a blue funk. Well better get off my high horse and get to bed, it is getting late.

Hope everyone is much happier in the morning!

Jerry

PS Hayden where have you gone?

DOT: I bow to you, I sing your praises. I have not laughed sooooo hard in absolutely ages. Please, please post more.

AMERICO: If you are still a little blue, you MUST read DOT's posting in the novel section of the WB.
Recommended reading for anybody except those with a weak heart or morals. Hah hah only kidding.

hey all, this is first chance to check this site since I wrote my first note. Thanks for the kind welcome.

This has to short because my dad needs the phone like clear... Xavier, I am Irish, Well, sort of, only 1/16 but I'm proud of that 1/16

I don't write very much sci-fi, mostly weird or fairy tale like fantasy.

GARIESS:
Thanks to you,
I'm no longer blue,
I only needed someone to give a....care.

Have you tried emailing HAYDEN? He sounds like he must be some character. Perhaps if we all unite in thought and summon HAYDEN to be with us, he shall respond.
HHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYDDDEEEEEEENNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN

RRRRRAAANNNNDDDDDAAAAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

EEEEEEEEEEEDDDDDDDDDDDDDDIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEE

SSSSSTTTTTTTTTEEEEEEEEEEEPPPPPPPPHEEEENNNNNNN KKKIIINNGGG.

Right, lets just sit back and see if it works.
Fingers crossed everyone.

I'm starving again, I'm going to get a pie.

HEATHER: Thankyou also for making me an emerald. You shall be the diamond. If that's alright with you, after all it is your bracelet.

JERRY: May you get bored more often. It does wonders for your presence here.

Now I'm really going to get that pie, bring it home and sit down to read GARIESS and DOT's goodies.

Teekay, you are such a pal. Some day I will get on a big plane and fly to the other side of the world and give you a great silly kiss.

GS

Teekay,

The short is there now, in fact there is the only place it is.
If you are blue, I do care, But you know what to do.

Don’t be blue.
Don’t be red.
Put a lampshade
on your head.

HAYDEN is not like Jon and Pussy, who are alter egos of the great A man. Jon and Pussy are nice, but Hayden is a very special person. By the way, He is much closer to you than to me. Hayden resides in Melbourne, where he works for the government. Well, we never established that he actually works but he is employed by the government and they pay him for some absurd reason known only to the government. Hayden was a great Notebooker of his day and was truly fun to hang with but I’m afraid he just doesn’t choose to be among us any more. Except when he lurks. But it hardly counts when he doesn’t speak.

Dot,

Funny you should make reference to both these things in one post. Did you know that the Spoonerism of POP CORN is COP PORN. And the Spoonerism of SMART FELLER is…

HELP! HELP! HELP! I lost my story in the Workbook. Dirty rakenfracks g$%damn r*%tten Word, you mo*&$rf*%&er.

I will inventory my desk surface below.

Let's see, One lampshade!! Well, that was quick. Oh, I forgot, one burned out light bulb. One broken lamp.

GS

GARIESS: I emailed you a copy of your story.

Hey you guys,

Who can help me? As it stands, the only copy of THE BOY WHO COULDN'T BE HEARD is now in the WB in SM. Can anyone tell me how I can retrieve the text for myself. Maybe if one of you good guys could copy it and send it to me in an email.

I just don't know if I will ever be able to use a PC or word processor without making a bloody great mess of things.

The inept,

GS

Oh dear. Litter will see that remark when he next logs on, won't he. Ooops. Voices in my head made me do it Litter. Now where is that hole?

Hello Notebookers,

My, my but we're busy of late. Welcome to all newcomers. I'm pretty new here too and I will try to catch up on who is who sometime soon. Consumer related issues take up absolutely oodles of time but I have managed to post the first chapter of my embryonic novel PORNCOP. Yeah me! It sounds suspect but it is a satire of the porn industry and its dealings with a 'backwoods' policeman in rural Scotland. (Referred to regularly as the polis. (that is -- Poe-Liss)

Anyway, I think it posted OK so dooooo let me know what you think. I don't think it is too rude but does have some rude bits, being what it is. Has anyone read POPCORN by Ben Elton? Also satire, but on the 'pulp-fiction' style of Hollywood movies such as, well, Pulp Fiction.

Hugs to all and I promise I'll try catching up.

Dot.

PS Got a phone call from Litter. He says that his mother is doing well and he hopes to get back to his PC soon. (I think he loves that machine more than his wife! :-)

Whoopsy, forgot to remove that part about feeling blue, I was going to suffer in silence.

GOODWEED: This post is especially for you as I forgot to say hi in the first post, so "Hi".

ARIK: Yes, I am going for a second try and the most stupid sentence - who could blame me??