Just a Word

Ah, Oxford!

I’m pretty sure that it’s is where geeky people go when they die (well, at least that’s my plan).

I mean, what’s not heavenly about a collection of 38 colleges in a beautiful setting?

And then, of course, it includes the mega-nerd bonus…

Yep, that’s Logic Lane.

Anyway, for over a century All Souls (ahem, geeky souls… see above) College of Oxford had a very special test to help them choose which student would receive a 7-year fellowship.

It was an exam created to bring the most brilliant minds to their metaphorical knees —

The one-word essay.

Students seated for this task would have an envelope placed into their trembling hands. Within that envelope (gulp!) was a single white card. And on that card (gasp!) was just one word.

The students would then be asked to write coherently, creatively, and brilliantly about that word for three solid hours.

Each year, THE WORD was a closely guarded secret that everyone wanted to know. In fact, THE WORD held such allure that even the townsfolk couldn't wait to find out. 

Crowds would gather outside the exam hall just so they could be the first ones to roll THE WORD off their tongues. Americans, think Black Friday and a Talking Elmo special — yeah, it was THAT big.

Alas, that is all part of the past now. It was a sad day in 2010 when All Souls College discontinued the practice. Apparently they ran out of words. 

These days, the students write essays about the classics, politics, and philosophy. As for the townsfolk — they remain in front of their tellies, never missing the latest advert for Talking Elmo.

But to think, for over a century that essay actually determined the future of a whole lot of… well… souls.

Never underestimate the power…

of just one word.

PROMPT: Take your own All Souls College exam to test your mettle today. Here are a few of the famous last words used over the years: POSSESSIONS, MERCY, STYLE, NOVELTY, WATER, MIRACLES. Pick one and go!

Blinded by Science… Fiction!

Do you prefer ray guns to Rachel Ray?

When I say wormhole, do your thoughts have nothing to do with burrowing insect larva?

Do you know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that telepathy, telekinesis, and teleportation are NOT the names of the three straight Teletubbies?

If you answered yes to all three questions, then you may be a sci-fi fanatic. And if you are a sci-fi fanatic, I suggest that you get your mutant android self to a local library or newsstand to pick up a Popular Science magazine.

I checked out one of these bad boys last week, and it was chock-full of plot potential. However, some of the plots I found would probably NOT make for pleasant bedtime reading… Don’t say you haven’t been warned.

One article featured NYU bioethics professor S. Matthew Liao who suggested that we reengineer humans so they’re less of a burden for old Mama Earth. 

He proposed that doctors use in-vitro fertilization to select only embryos with genes for short stature — because tiny folks leave tinier carbon footprints. 

Gee, I guess Randy Newman was dead wrong back in 1977 — Short People DO have a reason to live, after all (thanks global warming!).

Dr. Liao also recommended the development of special drugs to induce meat allergies. That way, the inconvenience of anaphylaxis would reduce all that little people lust for big, bad carbon-intensive beef.

These approaches, reported Dr Liao (with a maniacal grin, I’m sure), would “encourage people to make the eco-friendly choices that they seem to have trouble making on their own.”

Yeah.

That’s really encouraging —

in the sci-fi department.

 

Well, sleep tight!

PROMPT: Give your imagination a good stretch — pick up a Popular Science magazine and fictionalize one of their features... 

What could possibly go wrong?

Typical Day on the Funny Farm… er… Ranch

Ridin’ the range in search of that elusive…

Red Delicious

Back when I was a psych. intern, I had a discussion with a coworker who knew everything and was never afraid to show it. Somehow we landed on the topic of “folks who grow apples.”

That’s when I said something like, “Yadda yadda yadda… apple farmers.”

“Ranchers,” he interrupted.

“Excuse me?”

“They are apple ranchers, not farmers,” he said with the authority of someone who grew up in Wenatchee, Washington — AKA the center of the apple lovin’ universe.

“You've got to be kidding.”

He was not. In fact, he looked at me like he couldn't believe that I’d managed to live so long, given my obvious brain impairment.

Well, growing up as an East Coaster, I was always under the impression that ranching usually involved a whole lot of ridin’ and ropin’ and such. Then again, I had never been to a real live apple harvest — it was quite possible that those Galas and Ida Reds were a lot feistier than I’d ever imagined.

But I’m open-minded about these things, so whenever my know-it-all friend was around, I went above and beyond when speaking of those “folks who grow apples” …

Yep, they were apple jolly ranchers from then on.

‘Cause I’m pretty sure they were all really happy that I no longer called them farmers.

PROMPT: There are two ways to go with this one. First off, we've got the annoying know-it-all who is always a fun character to work with (On the page. Real life? Not so much). Then there’s the topsy-turvy world of ranching. I mean, if you can ranch apples, you can ranch anything — poodles, turnips, penguins, pens…

Impossibilities

“Why, sometimes I've believed 

as many as six impossible things before breakfast.”

~The White Queen from Lewis Carroll’s Alice in Wonderland

This quote reminds me of an exchange I had back when my now-taller-than-me son was only three.

“Mama, what’s a mature?”

“A what?”

“A mature.”

“Honey, mature isn't a thing… it’s, uh, a state of being — like being grown up.”

“No it isn't.” He scowled, then hiked up his big boy pants and stomped away.

5 minutes later —

“Mama, what’s a mature?”

“I thought we went over this. Here, I’ll get out the big dictionary (back in the day when it was actually a book) and show you.” I carefully read Webster’s take. “Of or relating to a condition of full development… Satisfied?”

“No WAY.” More scowling, more hiking up, more stomping.

5 minutes later —

“Mama, what’s a mature?”

“I think we've been over this.”

The scowl deepened, and I was gripped by the fear that I’d be responsible for putting another curmudgeon into the world. So, I threw up my hands and sighed. “Okay, okay, I give up. I’ll confess. You see, a mature is REALLY a glowing worm that lives in Antarctica and only eats square snowflakes.”

Everything stopped.

His lips quivered, his eyes widened, and then an enormous sunrise of a grin spread over his face. “I KNEW it!” he squealed and scampered off scowl-free.

Goodness, I love that boy.

And the lesson I learned that day has helped me with my craft — 

If you want to write for children, you've got to believe in the possibility of impossible things…

But, hey, are they really impossible?

Heck, my great grandfather’s impossibilities are my realities today.

PROMPT: Indulge in the world of impossible possibilities. What wondrous things did you once believe? On the flipside — what fantastical thing did you think could never happen, that actually, amazingly did? What glorious impossibility would you love to make real today? Write, paint, create about it.

Ditch the scowl. Embrace the grin.

Hello Again

Gus Taylor was 18 months old when he started babbling that he was his own grandpa. 

It weirded out his parents. After all, Gus’s grandpa had died a year before the little babbler was born. 

Things got even weirder when they showed him old family photos. Gus got “Grandpa Augie” right every single time. 

Gus finally explained the whole thing when he was four and speaking more coherently —

Apparently, God gave him a ticket after he died. With that ticket, he was able to travel through a hole and come back to life as Gus.

Yeah.

That cleared everything up for mom and dad, I’m sure.

Then there was this Scottish kid, Cameron Macaulay...

From the time he began putting words together at the age of two, he babbled about his life on the island of Barra (a place that he had never visited). 

He described the sea view from his bedroom window, his other mom, his siblings, his pets, and how his dad died.

This little guy did not discuss special God tickets, however. Instead, he talked about toilets.

According to Cameron, his current life situation was considerably inferior to his previous one. After all, the Macaulay home had only one toilet, whereas in Barra, he had had three.

Eventually, Cameron’s parents actually took him to Barra where they found that this kid’s tales matched those of the Robertson family exactly…

right down to those three toilets.

Hmmm…

What if reincarnation = reality?

PROMPT: Who were you in a previous life? Don’t know? Well, make it up! Write a rock-tabulous reincarnation story that explains some of your most endearing quirks. For a little inspiration, Galileo’s got your back(story).

Public Purling

Learning how to knit was a snap.

It was learning how to stop that nearly destroyed me.

~Erma Bombeck

According to my infamous calendar of all things wacky, it’s Knit in Public Week!

Yes, Elbow Benders, it is time for your knitwit side to come out of the closet.

And there’s science to encourage this crafty indulgence —

Apparently, knitting can ease anxiety, depression, and chronic pain. Some experts even go so far as to say that the woolly art increases happiness and protects the brain from damage caused by aging.

But all that aside, there's no doubt in my elbow-bending mind that it expands creativity, too.

How else do you explain this —

This —

Or this —

And then —

Just when you thought that all creative nooks and crannies had been conquered…

A psychiatrist in Massachusetts knitted an anatomically correct replica of the human brain.

It all started innocently enough, I’m sure —

One clotted bit of yarn that looked strangely like a cerebellum…

A few strings of wool that screamed “spinal cord!”

The next thing she knew, she was up to her elbows in Merino and purling away at an amygdala.

It took Karen Norberg, M.D. about a year to create her woolen wonder, but it was well worth it —

So, thanks to Dr. Norberg, I suppose we can add yet another knitting benefit…

Purls of wisdom.

Like.

Literally.

PROMPT: Knitting is not just for cozies anymore! Wrap your cranium around a body part and purl away… 

On second thought, how about a yarn involving a character with an unusual knitting addiction? Does the family perform an intervention… or do they all think that it’s perfectly normal to pass the time crafting pencil turtlenecks and wickedly woolly clarinet bikinis? 

A Chance for Rants

For the love of Pete (and simplicity), why are there so many buttons on my television remote control?

I don’t want to change the world, I just want to change the flippin’ channel.

And here’s another thought —

Why is it that wearing underwear in public will most likely land you in the backseat of a black and white…

But donning a bikini covering roughly 3 square centimeters of skin gets a thumbs-up from the authorities?

And finally —

When I call in to receive my voicemail messages, why oh why does the pseudo-human robot voice eat up precious cell phone minutes to ask me if I want to hear my messages?

No. I do not want to hear my voicemail messages. I actually called because I am lonely and longed to hear a pseudo-human robot voice. OF COURSE I WANT TO HEAR MY MESSAGES!!

… Deep cleansing breath.

Have you ever wanted to go off like a Roman candle over some petty annoyance or things that don’t make any sense?

Unless your first name happens to be “Saint,” I’m pretty sure you've answered in the affirmative.

Well, today is your lucky day.

It’s time to have a little fun with those rants in your pants.

So, grab a bit of inspiration from my favorite ranter, Hank Green...

Yep, it’s 17 Rants in 4 Minutes.

PROMPT: Write out your own personal favs in the rant department, or create an awesome rant for your main character. 

Write… and rant on!

Things That Make You Go Hmmm...

Would you take a job that paid less than 2 bucks an hour…

or less than zero for the wrong hair, nails, or makeup?

What about a career that enlightens you to the fact that jiggle tests have nothing to do with JELL-O?

Me neither.

But plenty of folks out there have chosen this track cheerfully.

Yes, I’m talking about NFL cheerleaders.

So, what does this have to do with writing your great story?

Bottom line —

People do not always act rationally.

They make boatloads of decisions AKA head-scratchers.

They make crazy, “never in a millions years” choices…

For reasons known only to themselves.

I know I have.

I bet you have, too.

So, don’t forget to make those characters of yours real.

Give ‘em a head scratcher or two…

And, of course, a fabulous backstory that makes it all perfectly reasonable in the end.

PROMPT: Two, Four, Six, Eight! Who do we appreciate? Well-rounded characters with just a touch of crazy. Add some hmmm… to yours today.

Or if you’d rather, write a cheerful backstory. What’s her reason this football season? JELL-O Jigglers are optional.

Story Quarry

Let’s say you have a great character —

The story kind, not the moral excellence kind (although I’m sure you’re great in that department as well).

Anyway, we all know that a great character needs a great story.

And if you’re kind of, sort of stuck on the story part, then here’s something to try —

Write down a list of everything your character LOVES.

And I’m not talking about things he or she is namby-pamby about. We need some strong opinions here. That’s precisely why it’s LOVES and not loves.

Next, make a list of everything your character is good at.

What’s his or her skill set?

Finally, add a dash of his or her comfort zone.

Got all that?

Now it’s time to delve into the wicked side of your character (yes, now I’m talking about the moral excellence kind).

Take the opposite of every single item in the above list and…

Gift it, grant it, throw it, toss it, heave it, lob it, sprinkle it, shove it, fling it (you get the idea)…

at your great character.

Then stand back with pen in hand as you watch ‘em squirm, wiggle, flounder, wrangle, battle, struggle, and…

WIN!

Shazam —

Instant story.

PROMPT: Mwahaha!

I Don’t Know Jack, but Joe’s Another Story

A local radio station recently reported that my little rural county ranks 4^th in the nation’s per capita coffee consumption. Apparently we’re just behind Seattle, San Francisco, and some place in Alaska where they probably use only drip…

an IV drip.

Trust me, those Alaskans will stop at nothing to get on the percolated podium.

Anyway, I’m pretty sure that our recent spike in coffee drinking was thanks to yours truly.

Staying up until 1:00 AM in order to make "lifelines" has made Joe my very best friend. When my current project is complete, I may have to write a song about that beautiful bean. Trust me, if you drink a lot of coffee, these things happen.

When J.S. Bach wasn't working on Fugues and Passions, he was suckin’ down the home brew. Next thing you know, he’s expressing his espresso devotion with a Coffee Cantata (seriously — look it up). Composer Verdi was next to chime in. “Coffee is balm to the heart and spirit,” he said (quite musically, I’m sure).

And Verdi could have added “the mind” as well. Java research has found that it can boost mental performance.

And while coffee’s effects on creativity specifically are mixed, the latest studies have found that combining a caffeine buzz with coffee shop background noise is great for the mind’s elbow.

And speaking of noise…

One group of researchers has suggested that drinking over 5 cups of coffee a day can increase your chances of auditory hallucinations…

Hmmm… Those voices you’re hearing may not be those of your book’s characters after all.

Anyway, so far my “ode to Joe” sounds a lot like the Lennon classic, Whatever Gets You Thru the Night.

Because in my book…

Whatever gets you through the day

is okay… okay.

PROMPT: Go ahead and slip yourself “a slug from the wonderful mug” by writing your own Java Jive today. But if you’re not feeling musical, no problem! Ponder your main character’s favorite coffee house order. Or go for a Best Beverage ABC featuring D for Double Shot and T for Tall No Foam No Fat Caramel Machiato.

You’re in Luck!

Today is National Lucky Penny Day!

So, in honor of those peachy penny parties that are sure to be popping up all over the country, I thought it would be a great day to re-post my baby brother’s recipe for instant treasure…

Instant luck also guaranteed!

Instant Treasure (without losing an eye)

Ingredients:

One 5 dollar bill

One bank teller person

One sense of adventure

Directions:  Make haste to a financial institution in your neighborhood. Hand over your 5 dollar bill to the bank teller person and say, “I would like 500 pennies.” Smile. You can add an “Arrrgh” if you wish. When the bank teller person hands over those rolls, you may feel the urge to swashbuckle. I suggest you save that for later. Sail home and check out what you've got — and blimey, you've got 500 chances to find some valuable stuff!

Voila — treasure!

The last time my son did this, he found two Lincoln wheat pennies (1941 & 1946) and a dime with low self-esteem (alas, he was worth so much more than the chumps he hung out with).

Now this recipe also comes with bonus features that are mighty handy if you’re a writer person. I call them Instant Stories. Sure, sure, the pennies might be worth more than face value, but the stories in your hot little hands are priceless — and they can run the gamut from historical to hysterical.

To access these features, preheat your brain to “simmer”. Then take another look at your loot.

For example, think about my son’s wheat-backs from 1941, the year the U.S. entered WWII, and 1946, the year after The War ended — Shiver me timbers, there are so many world events between the mintings of two bits of metal! 

And just where have those pennies been all this time? Were they ever worn in loafers? Could one have been held by JFK? Martin Luther King? How many gumballs did they purchase in their lifetimes? How many times were they “lucky” finds? Were they ever employed by the Tooth Fairy? Did a kid ever swallow one of them?

Okay, maybe you don’t want to think about that last one.

PROMPT: Your assignment, should you choose to accept it — go get yourself some treasure without the risk of scallywags or swordplay. Plunder the stories! Paint maps of faraway islands! And if you really want to engage in a sword fight or two, I’m certainly not going to stop you.

And by the way, if you’re doubting that you’ll find anything that's particularly valuable — note that one wild author and coin guy, Scott A. Travers, intentionally dropped rare pennies into circulation in 1997, 2002, and 2006. His last drop included a penny worth $1000 (yep, you saw that right — One. Thousand. Dollars.). Now THAT is one lucky penny — and of course, a great story, too!

Treasure Map

Want a fun way to bend your mind’s elbow?

Treasure map your childhood!

Start with a large sheet of paper and plot out your old stompin’ grounds. 

Visual artists may have an easier time with this part, but nobody should sweat it. We’re not going for accuracy here — we’re after STORY. 

Aye, for there be the treasure, Mateys!

Be sure to draw the home place the way you saw it back when you were less than four feet tall…

And remember, when you were that small, lots of things were probably BIG and SCARY.

Add labels that bring to mind specific childhood memories — those places and events that tell the tales of your adventure in the Land of Little.

Here are some of the map markers on mine:

Frog Catcher’s “Crick”

The Attic Bats

What is THAT?

Fossil Ridge

The EVIL one-footed Rooster!

Crawdaddy Falls

The CREEPY Basement (Why was that lonely light bulb always swinging?)

Roly-Poly Hill

The Kite-flying Field

The Kite-eating Tree

The Little Room (Haunted for sure)

And of course, the spot where I found the neighbor’s marijuana grow operation… 

When you’re 7 years old, NOTHING starts a conversation faster than bringing home one of those leaves!

PROMPT: Have fun making maps today! It’s surprising how the dual process of drawing and writing unleashes those tales that live in your skin. 

Begad! YOU’RE chock-full of treasure!