Monday, October 24, 2011

NaNo!

So many of the writers I know have spent the last couple weeks gearing up for a ginormous annual event, one that will take over their lives for four weeks solid.  NaNo.  And I'll be...cheering from the sidelines.  Actually, this year I'll be cheering with a little more enthusiasm than before, because I know more people who are taking it on.  To all of you I say, "Rock on."  And I mean that.  Sincerely.


Maybe someday I'll be ready to try it.  Like, in six years when I no longer have to run kids to soccer practice and football practice and piano lessons and choir.  The fall sports season is brutal in our house, and even though it's winding down by November, I need time to recover and gear up for the next giant energy vacuum that descends on all of us.  That would be Christmas.


This year I'm 2/3 of the way through a project I started in July, am working through third round edits for a book who's title is still in question - release date 1/14/12  - and have a short story I want to rework for the Still Moments Valentines Day anthology.  Then there's a big editing project and a sequel and another short story...or two.  I'm booked.


If you want to call me The NaNo Apologist, I can live with that.  It's kind of a cute nickname.  I wish you all the very best with your projects, and I'm looking forward to reading what you come up with.  And if you need to connect with someone who doesn't have glazed eyes and a high blood pressure, look me up.

Thursday, October 20, 2011

Equilibrium

<<Okay, this is an exercise I came up with for the humor writing class I'm taking.  I don't know if the teacher was too impressed, but I think it's funny.  Oh yeah, I crack myself up sometimes.>>

It's fascinating to watch the way animals organize themselves.  Our household was a happy one, made up of four pink monkeys and two cats, Woody and Sara Smile.  Yes, named after the Hall & Oates song.  Woody is a big neutered male with the softest fur E-V-E-R.  He's part Gumby and can usually be found draped across the lap of the largest male monkey with his nose tucked into the crook of the monkey's elbow.


Sara Smile's name was originally Speedo, but there's nothing fast about this cat, so we changed it when she moved in with us.  At the time, Sara Smile seemed like a nice name for the pretty little kitten with thick grey fur and bright green eyes.


We should have named her Invisi-kitty.  Or maybe Evapo-cat.  We go whole days without seeing her except at mealtimes, when she crawls up in our faces and demands service.  She frequently appears disgruntled with her monkeys.  When we see her, that is.


Oh, and the other way we know she's around?  She pees on the living room couch.  Nice kitty.


So into this balanced, if somewhat dysfunctional mix, we introduced Burnsie.  He's a nine-month-old puppy; part lhassa apso, part terrier, all goofy.  Because, really, those cats needed to be taken down a peg.


Woody was the early adapter.  He spent three or four days watching Burnsie from the upper elevations.  By week two they could inhabit the same six-foot space.  By week three, Woody would allow Burnsie to drag him around the house by the ears.  So much for Woody's tough-guy persona.


And Sara, Sara Smile?  She has yet to adapt.  She's even less visible and more demanding at mealtimes.  Oh, and last week we had to buy a new couch.

Tuesday, October 18, 2011

Humor

For the first time since college, I'm signed up for an in-person writing class, as opposed to the on-line writing classes I've been taking consistently for the last couple of years.  It's a humor writing class.  I thought it would be fun, and it is, except for last week when the homework assignment was to write 250 words on what we thought was funny.  


I wrote a few lines on the Blue Collar Comedy Tour, specifically Ron White.  Anything his dog Sluggo does is funny.  And you can't fix stupid.  I'm grinning even now.  Then I got even more elaborate describing my love for Janet Evanovich and how she always always always makes me laugh.  Like, in the new book where Stephanie and Lula try to bring in a skip and he opens the door naked and he's hung like an ox and Lula ends up shooting him in the toe and then they have to go to Cluck 'n a Bucket to recover?  Now that's funny.  I guess you'd say that I'm pretty basic.


Then the teacher gave us the diagram showing the levels of comedy.  Hmm.  It seems the stuff I think is funny falls squarely in the most juvenile levels.  Nice.  Here I thought I was such a grown-up and all.  Things like incongruity and subtle exaggeration and irony don't really do it for me.  I mean, I can see the joke, but it doesn't really make me laugh.  Satire - in the hands of an expert like Steven Colbert - does, which gives me hope that I'm not a complete lost cause.  On the other hand, the funniest thing I saw that whole class was the description of the highest level of humor:

Incongruity and contrast/comparison are the highest level of humor as they require a discriminating mind.  People who read extensively or attend college often have the right mental training to appreciate this level.


Seriously?  I've been to college, in fact more than most, and I would never ever ever say that I had a discriminating mind.  With a straight face, anyway.  That description sounds like something written by someone who has too much time on their hands.  Anyway, the homework assignment for this week is to come up with two stinkie pinkies, a homonym and a shaggy dog.  Wish me luck.