Sunday, June 28, 2009

The Noviate

"the period or state of being a novice" per Webster.
At the urging of people who present themselves as knowing about the publishing biz these days, I creating a blog. In this regard it is a purely mercenary activity, i.e., something that may somehow someday interest people sufficiently in my writing to buy it. This means I will be posting excerpts from my work, current or past. And other things I come across in the process. For instance, today I was reading the article, "Castles in the Mind," from the July 2009 issue of "O", given to be a friend with whom I have talked about the trials and tribulations of writing. In a sidebar there is a quote from "The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn."

We had the sky up there, all speckled with stars, and we used to lay on our backs and look up at them, and discuss about whether they was made or only just happened. Jim he allowed they was made, but I allowed they happened; I judged it would have took too long to make so many. Jim said the moon could a laid them; well, that looked kind of reasonable, so I didn't say nothing against it, because I've seen a frog lay most as many, so of course it could be done. We used to watch the stars that fell, too, and see them streak down. Jim allowed they'd got spoiled and was hove out of the nest.

What I don't remember learning about in English or Literature courses anywhere along the way was about the WRITING. We were taught the stories, why they were good stories and worth talking about. But I don't remember really examining the writing. Appreciating the writing. Huckleberry Finn is not just a great book because the story, as wonderful as it is, it is because the writing is terrific. Ok, you may say, if the writing was terrific, we wouldn't be reading it, but I mean to listen to the words and talk about how it is to hear the words. Oh, well, I go on.

The short of it for me today, is to back to my writing, to look at each sentence, at each work, to treat it like a painter putting strokes on canvas or a sculptor removing stone from a piece of marble. Each motion is significant. Thought out, to some degree, even if it is only to see how it looks. I am inspired, encouraged, to go on.