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March 18, 2008 Monday Mission on Tuesday: Untitled 
(I forgot the name of this exercise, but the goal is to write a scene of dialogue in which one of the characters is silent but not absent. 700 words. This week I decided to pull some characters and a scenario from something else I'm working on--I'm not sure I can use this, but it was an interesting challenge nonetheless. If you'd really like to help me out you can take a guess at what Kyrie was feeling/thinking in the comments box.) They stood on the Promenade: Freya, Samuel, Kyrie and Benjamin, facing the Temple. To their back was the Mother’s Tears, water level down from a long dry summer, but the trees along its bank as green as ever. Around them young children laughed and played while their parents helplessly tried to keep up with them, and the teenagers beside the fountain were almost certainly truant. The flatbread sellers were doing a brisk trade in iced drinks and sweets, but Samuel and Benjamin had eyes only for the Temple on the other side of the Palace. The midday summer sun glittered off its sodalite and quartz facings, making the split pyramid appear almost like a brighter section of the sky, while about it base to tip flew priests and priestesses, so dwarfed by the massive structure that they looked like dragonflies or hummingbirds. “They actually fly,” said Samuel. Posted by Andrea at 10:21 AM | Comments (1) March 10, 2008 Monday Mission: Needs
(This Monday's Mission is a riff on Scheherezade; write a portion of a story in which a character needs to tell a story in order to escape some consequence. 600 words) Sarah and Adam faced each other over the table, Sarah holding her coffee with two hands as if she were aiming a cannon, Adam cradling his, head tilted down. Around them happier people laughed and gossiped, leaning back in their chairs or sinking into the sofa. Sarah stared at him, then leaned back away from him and looked away. “I never want to see you again.” (It's not a very good one today, sorry. Frances is opposed to sleeping on vacation. Period.) Posted by Andrea at 8:22 AM | Comments (4) February 25, 2008 Monday Mission: Journalism
(This week’s exercise is to write a 700 word story fragment in the style of journal entries written over a week or two.) Jan 10 I hate him. Jan 11 It’s all Emily’s fault. As soon as she found out that I liked Rob she had to like Rob too. It’s just like her, she always likes whoever I like, can’t she get a mind of her own? She’s not even that pretty but she’s got those boobs and boys can’t see anything else. She knows it too so she’s always wearing tight t-shirts. She looks like an ugly Bratz doll. Rob had been flirting with me for weeks and I know he was going to ask me out soon but then Emily starts flirting with him and now all he can do is stare at her boobs and follow her around with his tongue hanging out. I hate him. Jan 14 He is such a slut. Jan 21 What was I talking about? It wasn’t Rob, I am so over him. What’s the point of keeping a diary if you can’t even Jan 22 Sorry, Dad interrupted me yesterday. He’s always just barging into my room when I am trying to have some PRIVACY. Yeah, Rob and Emily are draped all over each other all the time in front of Emily’s locker now. It’s just gross. And Rob’s got that big nose anyway, I can’t imagine that I ever wanted him to kiss me. UGH. Emily tried to talk to me after history yesterday to ask if we were still friends and I’m like, uh, NO. No we’re not friends, but whatever, I’m not mad at you, you can have that nasty Rob if you want him. And she said she was sorry, she didn’t mean to steal my boyfriend, and I was like, what? He wasn’t my boyfriend. Seriously, have him. Then she asked if we could go to the mall on Saturday, yuck. So I just LOOKED at her and walked away and Jordan was like “ooooooh!” behind me, and I just left her there. I think she even cried. What a baby. She and Rob deserve each other. So what I really wanted to tell you about was what happened a few days ago. Jane was telling me that someone likes me, and I said to her, don’t tell me if it’s Rob, I don’t want to know, I am so over him. She said no no it’s not, it’s someone else, and he’s so cute. Then my heart started beating really hard but I didn’t want it to look like I cared, so I shrugged and said, so, tell me. She said, OK, but you have to promise you won’t tell anyone who you heard it from, I’m not supposed to tell anyone. Just tell me, I said. And then she dragged me into the bathroom, if you Jan 23 GAH! My Dad drives me CRAZY! It’s like he knows when I’m writing something important in here and he just walks right in like this is his room or something. Like dinner can’t wait a few minutes? AAAAAGH and now he’s calling again. I’m so fat I shouldn’t be eating dinner anyway. Jan 24 Oh my god oh my god oh my god! OK so now I should FINALLY have some time to finish my story. So Jane told me who likes me and swore that I wouldn’t tell anyone and I swore I wouldn’t because you know, like I care? I don’t care. I mean I know who he is, everyone knows who he is, right? But you can’t just roll over for them the way Emily does. And I didn’t really believe it anyway because he’s soooooooo cute and he’s in grade eight and why would he even look at me? I saw him that afternoon standing when I was going to my locker though and I’m such a geek, I couldn’t help it, I smiled at him, but then he smiled back!!! Ack! And Jane said, see, I told you so! And then I kept running into him and on Friday afternoon when I was leaving school he was on the path outside with one of his friends and he came over and asked me if I wanted to see a movie or something and I said yes! And we went to see a movie and it was sooooooo great, he bought popcorn and his hand kept touching mine in the bin and he whispered in my ear a few times and our shoulders were touching and then afterwards when we’d taken the bus to my house he KISSED ME ON THE CHEEK! And he’s so cute and oh my god he’s in grade eight so he’s taller than me too and all my friends are so jealous. Emily and Rob broke up yesterday. I don’t know what I saw in him, he is such a boy. And I’m still not talking to Emily. Posted by Andrea at 8:43 AM | Comments (3) February 18, 2008 Monday Mission: One Moment
(This week’s mission is to describe in third-person one particular moment of significance in someone’s life, using details from all five senses. 300 words.) (There is a real memory in the centre of this, but it has been highly fictionalized for the purposes of all those sensory details.) Have you cleaned up yet? Her mom had asked her. Yep, she’d replied, bouncing onto her bed as her mom came in her room. She’d stared at her disapprovingly, thumping the windex on her dresser, and started cleaning again. And now the stack of books she’d half-shoved under the bed had been all put away in the bookcase, and her pages lost. The tops of her dresser and desk and hutch were shiny and smelled sharp and all of the elastics and brushes and pictures had been put somewhere else, and what was the point? Weren’t they all just going to come out again anyway? Now the blankets were straight and smooth on her bed and the sides tucked in and she was just about to lie down on it and get them all wrinkled because she wanted to finish reading her book, all of the dolls in the dollhouse had just come alive and she wanted to see what the little girl would do when she found them. It was bright outside and her mom had snapped the roller-blind up, and now the sun streamed in and little dust motes danced in the air like glitter. Maybe fairies play with glitter, she thought; maybe the dolls in her dollhouse would come alive when she went to sleep tonight. Wouldn’t that be fun! The dollhouse too was at any rate now fit for inhabitants, all the furniture back in the right place (but you couldn’t reach it there! And it was hard to get the dolls around it!). None of it was going to last. It was just silly. Her mom had slumped with a heavy sigh out of the room to put the cleaning gunk away, and came back, pushing her curly dark blond hair back behind her hears. “You’d better hope you grow up to marry a rich man so you can hire a maid,” she said. Posted by Andrea at 10:06 AM | Comments (1) February 4, 2008 Monday Mission: The Unstable Self
(The idea this week is to use a rapidly shifting POV to indicate an unstable personality or intense distress. 500 words.) The first afternoon is the worst, or so she thinks, the doctor's words stuck in her head on repeat ("Your baby might have a mild form of dwarfism") while you comb pubmed for articles on femur length and ultrasound and percentages and risks. None of it helps. Because the chances might be low and now you know how low they are but the fact remains that the baby might have a mild form of dwarfism. Mild form of dwarfism. What is a mild form of dwarfism? Pubmed can't tell you, and neither can Google. Does it mean hypochondroplasia? It can't be achondroplasia, that's not mild, she tells herself. Looking at photos on the internet. They seem happy, why are you crying? There's a key in the lock on the front door and her husband is home, and she walks down the stairs. She has been crying all afternoon and the look on his face is alarm and now you are crying again. "There might be something wrong with the baby." You are sobbing now and he is trying to comfort you by telling you that of course nothing is wrong, nothing is wrong, how can it be wrong, look at the odds! It doesn't help. The first afternoon is the worst, or so she believes, as she shuts the door to the baby's room. The next day she doesn't cry as much; she goes to work and sits in front of the computer and if she doesn't get anything done at least she isn't dripping all over the keyboard. It's just work. She can work. At least she can sit at work and pretend. There are decisions to be made. Does she want an amniocentesis? It might be able to tell her if there really is something wrong with the baby, and what; but she can't have one until after 36 weeks, when the risk of miscarriage or early delivery won't be so disastrous. She doesn't know, does it matter? Will she change anything anyway? The baby is coming, no matter who she turns out to be now. She'll know at 36 weeks or at 40 weeks and she's already at 33 weeks and how much does it really matter now? She still doesn't go in the baby's room, and stops wandering through the baby sections of department stores in her free time. What's the point? How can she tell what will fit, what she will need? All of this is made for normal babies. Babies without any form of dwarfism, mild or not. There is another ultrasound. At one point the tech freezes the screen showing the baby's head in profile and she and her husband leave the room while the mother-to-be lies on her back in the darkened room. She stares at the profile and is convinced that it shows a bulging forehead, a sign of dwarfism, one that she read about on the internet. You are seized with panic, then revulsion, then shame. You can't do this. You can't do this you can't do this you can't do this. You thought you could but you can't, it's too much. You thought the first afternoon was the worst, but it wasn't; instead of getting better it only gets stranger. Whenever the baby shifts and you watch its little butt move from side to site, feel a fist pressing on your organs, you wonder who or what it is. Whether she sleeps or wakes, whether she walks or laughs or talks or works or rests or watches television or reads or cooks or tests her blood sugar (as if macrosomia could possibly matter now!), it's there, underneath. Who is this baby? She never really knew and she knows that she never really knew, but before she got to pretend, some imagined melange of herself and her husband dressed in clean and pressed clothes, laughing. Now, who is she? But even that is not the worst. One day she is at work and absorbed in something on the computer. A spreadsheet. Numbers and equations and calculations to figure out--who gets to work how, and why, and whether they can change it. Her hand and wrist are aching from using the mouse all morning, and she is beginning to get hungry; it is nearly lunch time. She rolls forward and bumps her stomach into the keyboard tray, looks down. What the hell happened to me? My stomach is huge, what happened, it's like I'm ... oh, that's right. I'm pregnant. And then it all comes rushing back. You're pregnant. There might be something wrong with the baby. Posted by Andrea at 11:04 AM | Comments (7) January 28, 2008 Monday Mission: No Ideas but in Things
(Today's mission is to write a 500-word postcard story without dialogue or any description of characters' interior states. Every idea needs to be placed in an object or an action.) She fastened her skirt behind her hips, tucked in her high-necked green sweater, pulled up her tights and squirmed her feet into her black boots. Reflexively, before leaving for her new job, she fastened her silver pentacle around her neck, then did up her winter coat and grabbed her purse and ran for the bus. The bus was late and full and she found a spot by the rear door to stand, holding the railing, staring out the window. Outside grey empty trees and dingy grey snowbanks creeped by, but her eyes focused elsewhere. Maybe on the dim grey sky behind the grey buildings. Not, certainly, on the eyes of the woman sitting in the seat by the window, pointedly staring at her. She got off, raced to her desk, checked the clock. Ten minutes early. She poured a cup of tea and let it steep at her desk while she checked emails before the morning’s meetings. The next one in the Yonge Room—where would that be? Third floor? No, fifth. This hallway? No, that. There it was. Five minutes late. She found an empty seat and pulled out her notebook and pen and took notes, referring frequently to the binder left behind by the last person in her job. She took frequent small sips of her tea and made careful notes in a neat hand. Blue ball-point pen, nothing fancy, just a Bic. When the break came she grabbed a mini muffin and sat back in her seat, re-reading her notes and the binder, annotating the margin; eventually she put the pen down and leaned back, breaking small pieces of muffin off and putting them in her mouth, wiping her fingertips on the napkin between bites. The room was corporate beige and corporate grey and corporate red, the carpeting laid in inoffensive tiles, whiteboards and corkboards hanging in place of art in any other room. Groups of attendees stood around the room in clumps of two or three or four, talking and laughing, but sometimes, too, staring at her. Or not precisely at her. At her neck. She flushed, and traced the silver chain with her index finger, held the pentacle in her palm. As the meeting reconvened she kept it there, thumb and forefinger worrying the line of the star, still taking notes with her right hand, still flushed, looking only at her page or at the speaker. By the time the lunch break came around, she had carefully tucked the pentacle inside her green shirt, chain and all. ~~~~~ 422 words. Not bad. In this morning's Toronto Star there is a story about Stephanie Conover, invited to participate in judging a beauty pageant, then de-invited when the organizers found out she practiced Tarot and Reiki. Just in case any of you were under the impression that we had freedom of religion in this country. More on this tomorrow (or Wednesday, depending on how busy I am). Today it might make my head explode. Posted by Andrea at 10:01 AM | Comments (5) January 14, 2008 Monday Mission: Imperative
(This week's exercise is 300 words written in the imperative. I've flouted the length requirement again because I couldn't have told this one in a short space.) How To Run a Child's Birthday Party First, get the date wrong when you email your friends. Put the correct date on the paper invitation and don't bother to tell them what happened. Apologize for the confusion several times. Then cancel it altogether for a snowstorm. Your daughter will be disappointed. Feel like a heel. Reschedule for January. In the meantime, eat the snacks you'd bought for the party. Wonder why your blood sugars are high. Re-purchase the snacks in January. On the morning of the party, pour milk on your daughter's breakfast cereal. Realize that you are out of milk. Realize that you can't make icing for the cookie decorating without milk. Decide to be ok with this because you can go out and get milk when your ex comes over to help set up an hour before the party starts (at 1:30). Begin the frenzy of final preparations: scrub the table, scrub the snack bowls, put out coasters and napkins, sweep, mop, set out crackers, fruit and cheese. Find yourself holding a stack of half-read books, a notebook, an armful of stuffed toys, a dirty glass, two plastic forks and a half-eaten apple with no earthly idea how to put them all down again. Almost put the forks in the fridge and the apple in the sink. Knock your head against the wall. Remember: it will be over soon. Watch the clock. Become increasingly grumpy while watching the clock. Get yourself dressed, get your daughter's outfit ready. When she asks you for the five millionth time that morning if she can get dressed now, say No, I don't want you getting your party dress dirty before your guests arrive. When she asks you for the six millionth time if she can decorate cookies yet, say No, that is for when your friends are here. When she asks you if she can dump out another bin of lego, say No, for god's sake I just cleaned up in here. When she begs you for Horton, say yes. Let her watch Horton, for the love of all that's holy, and tape up streamers. Nod your head when your daughter advises you to put them up straight, like this. Continue to let them hang. Remember to keep watching the clock. When it is 1:15, fume. Ask the air: where is he? What is taking him so long? Doesn't he know you're out of milk? Run out to get the milk as soon as he shows up. Find three of your friends in the parking lot all arriving at exactly the same moment. Apologize. Get the milk. Run home. Pressure your guests to eat the food you set out even though they all just finished lunch. Make far too much of four different colours of icing (pink, teal, green and white) and the sprinkles and sparkles. Set the Shrek plastic cloth out on the floor. Cover it with the decorating goodies, a bunch of plastic knives, and the brown-sugar shortbread cookies (hearts, flowers, dinosaurs and circles). When the sprinkles get dumped in moutainous heaps on the plates, and the plastic knives are scrubbed by a guest's tongue, and the round sprinkles bounce and roll across the floor like a hundred brightly coloured miniature ping-pong balls, and everyone wants to use the green icing all at once, and they insist on eating the cookies now even though chocolate birthday cake is coming, and the knife for the pink icing ends up in the blue, laugh. Later, when all of your guests have gone home, look at the leftovers. Groan. Posted by Andrea at 12:22 PM | Comments (6) January 7, 2008 Monday Mission: Self-Effacing
I know I let these ones go ages ago (which was great--I was happy to see it find life elsewhere), and gods only know what they're up to in the blogosphere these days; so rather than lay claim to the original, I'm going to say that this is the original Monday Mission's fraternal twin. Not exactly the same, but very close. One of the books on my to-be-read pile is a set of writing exercises called The 3 A.M. Epiphany. There are 200 of them, and I'd like to work my way through them without it stealing precious off-line time from my actual writing projects. So I thought I'd inflict it on you. I mean (ahem) share it with you. And maybe you'd like to participate, too. Of course if you'd like you can just show up on Mondays and (kindly and constructively) trash what I've written. I'd be very grateful to you if you did. Or you can get your own copy of the book and play along. Or you can avoid the blog like the plague on Mondays because nothing sounds more tedious than reading someone else's writing exercises. It's up to you. Without further ado, this week's mission is to write 600 words from the first-person point of view while using first-person pronouns (I, me, my) only twice. The author of the book intends this to be fiction, of course, but I don't see why this can't be a blog post--600 words of any scene or story, real or not, told from the first-person without the use of first-person pronouns. ~~~~~ Mom’s eyes were narrowed and looked like two black stones in her face. Her lips were pressed together between her front teeth. She hadn’t said anything for fifteen minutes. Dad was puttering around the kitchen like he always did, as if making food for someone would fix their problems. He was making an omelette, whisking eggs and chopping vegetables, shredding cheese. He hummed as he chopped, like everything had not just changed. ~~~~~ OK, so it's 740 words and I used first-person pronouns 3 times. I cheated. But I cheated with good intentions? And it's not particularly good or well-written (the dialogue is over the top), but it was a challenge, and that's the important thing. The only pronoun I can think to get rid of would be the "my" in the last paragraph, but I don't think chopping that sentence would make it better, so I'll leave it in and cheat instead. Posted by Andrea at 7:39 AM | Comments (11) May 28, 2007 Monday Mission: Verse
If I could the things that I like best But half a novel, an hour on the phone, An hour-long workout, no need to hurry. Like all good things, it had to end. Posted by Andrea at 11:31 AM | Comments (9) May 1, 2007 Monday Missions Reborn
Jennifer of Under the Ponderosas has graciously volunteered to host the Monday Missions starting again in a few weeks' time. Here's her recent post soliciting styles and ideas. I'll definitely be participating, and I hope that many of you who played along for the last round will do so again! (Thanks for volunteering, Jen. It'll be nice to have one less thing on my plate for the next few months.) Posted by Andrea at 7:43 AM | Comments (2) April 16, 2007 Monday Mission: New and Improved! Spring!
(This is our last Monday Mission! I'm so sad!) NEW AND IMPROVED! Spring! Now colder and snowier than ever! With 50% more wind and 50% less sunshine! Guaranteed to provide your immune system with the seasonal challenge it needs! This NEW AND IMPROVED Spring! works by driving arctic weather systems further south, thus delaying the inconvenient onset of flowers, birds, leaves, green grass and jackets. Tired of messing with wardrobe changes? Wish you could just wear your thick sweaters and down coats all year? You're in luck! Our NEW AND IMPROVED Spring! will relieve you of these logistical details. Spring! NEW AND IMPROVED! Because who needs tulips, anyway? (Can you tell I put three whole minutes of thought into this one? You can, can't you? Anyway. I had a lot of fun with this series, and I hope the people who played along did too. If any of you want to keep going and have some amazing ideas, by all means comment and say so, and we'll figure something out.) Posted by Andrea at 6:27 AM | Comments (18) April 9, 2007 Monday Mission: Mummy's and Daddy's
Before I told Erik I was leaving, we had a very different bedtime routine. First was the potty, then pjs, then a snuggle in the Big Bed with Mummy and Daddy. On a typical evening two months ago, the sheer excitement of it was so great that instead of snuggling, she flopped like a fish on a dock, head to toe, all over the bed. "Take off your shirt, Mummy," she said. "I want to see the mole." "All right. Crazy kid." "Aww, cute little baby mole," she said, and lay down in the crook of my elbow. There she lay, periodically turning her head back and forth like a sunflower following the sun, grinning at Daddy who grinned back at her, then at Mummy. Her face glowed, her smile so immense and her eyes so bright they outshone the ceiling lamp. "Let's go under the blankets, all the way!" she'd shout, and we'd prop the sheets over her head like a tent while she climbed down to the bottom of the bed to remark on the colour of our socks. She giggled, and asked me to tickle her back which--as she explained--didn't really tickle, but she liked it. "I love you Mummy!" "I love you too, sweet girl." "I love you, Daddy!" "Aww, I love you too." Now Erik and I are taking turns in the guest room, and there are two big beds. First she snuggles in one big bed with one parent, and most nights she then picks up Baby Bear and Rudolph to go snuggle in the other big bed with the other one. She still asks me to take off my shirt so she can snuggle with the baby mole, but she lays quietly on my arm, and doesn't flop head to toe like a fish. I scratch her back, and kiss her, and tell her how much I love her. She doesn't ask to go under the blankets, all the way. She doesn't grin. She picks up her Baby Bear, slides off the bed, and walks out the door with her wee pink pyjama legs hiked up slightly above her stripey sleep socks, and goes to look for Daddy in the other big bed. Posted by Andrea at 6:56 AM | Comments (21) April 8, 2007 Monday Mission Cheat Sheet
Tomorrow's is going to be hard, so I'm posting a few hints and examples in advance. This week's mission is to write a post that is all anecdote: no rumination, no epiphany, no resolution. I know it doesn't sound hard, but it is. The idea came from a John Gardner writing exercise in his classic writing book, The Art of Fiction. His version was: "Write a description of a barn as seen by a man whose son has just died. Do not write about the man, his son, or death." And that's the idea here, too. Write an anecdote. Any anecdote about anyone or anything you like. Do not include the point of the anecdote, but try to make it clear anyway. Expect that this will take you about twenty times longer per word than you are used to in a blog post. An example: "On a late September day when Frances was about ten months old, I took her to a big park on the shores of Lake Ontario. The sky was a silvered blue, reflected in the lake, the plants still green and flowering. I'd dressed her in a new pair of bright orange cords in 6-9 months that were still way too big, and a short-sleeved white onesie with orange flowers near the collar. "She was just learning to sit up. I walked the park's trail with Frances either in the stroller or in the bjorn, depending on her whims, and pointed out the flowers and birds and small animals and children playing on the slides and swings. She waved her arms mightily. "The colour of her pants and shirt set off the green green grass and blue blue lake and sky so beautifully that I had to have a picture. I set her on her bum facing the lake, and snapped at least a dozen shots from behind. The one that hangs by paperclip on my office wall is my favourite: her large blond head precariously balanced, her round sweet arms held out to either side, the way the white of her onesie draws the eye to her inexorably. I look at it every day. "Immediately after the photo was taken, she fell over backwards, whacked her head on the hard ground and started to wail. There were no more pictures that day." Fun, eh? I'm not claiming this is a work of art or a paragon of the form, but here are a few pointers: 1. Be careful with where you set the beginning and ending. You want to include enough to set the stage, but not so much that readers have a hard time figuring out what the point is. 2. Be selective with details. Don't include everything you remember, just enough to a) have the anecdote make sense (narrative clarity) and b) give readers some clues about what you're driving at. I've told you the broad outlines of what we did that day, enough so you'll understand why I wanted to take a picture (hopefully) but not all about our treck through the adjoining marsh and watching fish jump between the bullrushes. I didn't tell you what I brought for the snack or whether she ate it. I didn't tell you how often we switched back and forth between bjorn and stroller. Because those details weren't relevant. 3. Be descriptive but not judgemental. In the parlance of fiction writers, "show, don't tell." Don't say that "so-and-so was a jerk," just describe exactly what he or she did and let the reader draw the conclusion. Don't say "she was happy," or "he loved it"; tell us what he or she did ("she squealed 'thank you!' and gave me a big hug") or how he or she looked ("he frowned, threw his hotdog on the floor and stomped on it") that told you what they were feeling. I know. It's hard. You can do it. You'll notice that in the example I don't tell you it was sunny or warm, but you know the sky is blue and she's wearing short sleeves, so it's obvious. I don't say that we had fun, but I hope you can tell how much I enjoyed it from my descriptions of what I saw and showed to Frances. I don't tell you she's having difficulty balancing in her sitting position, but I hope I've left you enough clues that you could sense she might fall. And when she did, I don't tell you that I felt guilty. I just say that I didn't take any more photographs. I also don't tell you why that memory is significant to me, or what I learned from it, but I hope you can tell. (Can you? What do you think it was?) Alternatively, you're reading this and thinking, "I didn't get any of this out of your anecdote, Andrea. You are a hack." Anyway. Like I said, this one's hard. I've been trying for years and I still haven't written a barn description that I'm happy with. But I think bloggers (myself included) often don't trust the intelligence of readers enough; we make things too obvious by writing out the anecdotes and then every single little thought about it that led to our epiphany, which is then spelled out in detail, sometimes leaving readers feeling as though they've been hit over the head with the meaning stick. This is a good way to practice a form of writing that still (when it's well done) conveys meaning and significance while being more open to interpretation and more entertaining. Who always wants a moral to the story? And here you thought that all you had to do was write an anecdote! Posted by Andrea at 11:21 AM | Comments (9) April 2, 2007 Monday Mission: Mountains and Molehills
If there is one thing I need to teach Frances, it is that her size says nothing about what she can do or how high she can reach. This is important for all children to know; but especially for her, when her size will make mountains out of molehills, when she will constantly confront a world that has been built for larger and stronger people. I question my ability to teach Frances this. I believe in change, that people can change if they want to, if they're determined to; I believe that hard work will win out over talent almost every time, and that it's the combination that makes geniuses. I don't enjoy tasks or settings that are too easy. But I also was educated in an Enhanced Program that took intellectual and other abilities as givens that education could prevent us from throwing away, but nothing could really increase or develop. School was a place for showing off how smart you already were, not learning how to become smarter. And so, while I believe in change and the value of determination, I know there are large swaths of my mental habits that also believe that our destinies are written in the stone of our innate abilities. This would be a disastrous habit for Frances to learn. It's true that her social precociousness, an inborn gift if ever there was one, will stand her in good stead for life. But what she needs more than a talent of making friends is the determination to overcome obstacles and barriers--because there will be obstacles and barriers, and she will have to work harder than other kids to master things that they find easy. She will not be the fastest runner; climbing stairs and opening doors will present challenges; the long-jump will not be her forte. She needs to believe that hard work is what will make the difference in her life--because it is. Fortunately, she already knows this, as was beautifully demonstrated to me at the park last week. It was an unnaturally gorgeous day, the kind that convinces you of the reality of global warming--when there still ought to be snow on the ground but teenaged girls are wearing tank tops. Groups of teenagers and older kids were playing a game called "grounders" all over the playset. I was not impressed. Frances didn't seem to mind, though; she'd watch them intently, then try to do what they did. They were all much, much larger than she was, and could easily jump distances that she couldn't. She was determined to climb the ladder--the metal ladder with rungs 18 inches apart or more. She stood on the lowest rung and, straining herself to her fullest height, managed to grasp the rung over her head. I stood right behind her. "It's big, isn't it?" I said. "This is meant for big kids." She pulled and pulled and almost made it up a rung; I put my hands on her back to give her an extra inch and she made it up. "Good job, Frances!" Repeating her straining, reaching and pulling, with just a little bit of help she made it to the top, and from there to the top of the big twisty slide. By herself. She had to work for that ladder--work hard. I've never been so proud of her. Frances amazes me. She does not see her size as a barrier to anything she wants to do. If there is something she wants to master, she busts her ass to make it happen. Now if only I can keep myself from convincing her otherwise. ~~~~~ (This week's mission: to write a post in the reverse of traditional blog format. Instead of anecdote-epiphany-rumination-resolution, try resolution-rumination-epiphany-anecdote.) Posted by Andrea at 9:44 AM | Comments (8) March 26, 2007 Monday Mission: Birthday v. 3.2
Birthday is a utility program that runs on pre-scheduled dates to remind your system of its ultimate mortality. It also functions as a maintenance program by highlighting the positives and negatives of the system's functioning. Birthday v. 3.2 can only be installed on an Andrea system currently running Birthday v. 3.1. Attempting to install Birthday 3.2 on a system running an earlier version of Birthday may cause the system to crash irreparably. Systems other than the Andrea model will have their own Birthday programs to install; please ensure you have purchased the correct Birthday program for your system type! Installation This update will install automatically on the one-year anniversary of v. 3.1. No action is required on your part; your credit card will autmoatically be debited. New Features v. 3.2 of Birthday is packaged with Frances v. 0.33, which enhances the happiness and contentment of the system overall. While it does slow down processing time and increase the system's fatigue, we feel that these issues are more than made up for by the excellent features and programming of the Frances package. Birthday v. 3.1 was packaged with Frances v. 0.23, and while this was an excellent program, a year's worth of advances are more than reflected in the new release. You will especially notice an increase in Chatter and Bloggable Conversations, Scampering, Make Believe, Sharing and JOY. Fixes and New Bugs Unfortunately, the software developers are still struggling with entropic decay of the Andrea system. Some fixes have been completed, but these are outweighed with new bugs. Fixes v. 3.2 of Birthday comes equipped with an install of Self-Maintenance 1.1, which impels the system to confront its entropic decay and take action to preserve the energy and form remaining to the system. As the effects of entropic decay are not yet as pronounced as we anticipate they will be for Birthdays v. 5.5 to 7.5, the effects of Self-Maintenance 1.1 might be slight. Birthday v. 3.2, due to the greater demands it places on the system, must be installed during a week of vacation. Do not attempt to attend work while Birthday 3.2 is installing. Birthday v. 3.2 contains an optional moduleswhich we strongly encourage users to install: Ambition 2x. This will help to compensate for the entropic decay inherent in the system. Unlike previous versions of Ambition, 2x is more selective and can be applied with greater focus to more meaningful endeavours. Previous versions of Birthday, especially v.s 0.5 through 2.9, were always accompanied by snowstorms. However, the global installation of Climate Change v. 20.5.0 has drastically reduced the likelihood of this event. While Climate Change's effects on the Andrea system (and most other systems) will overall be negative, we anticipate that the lack of snowstorm accompanying future installations of Birthday will be positive. New Bugs New issues the developers are already aware of and working to address include the following: - v. 3.2 has a more pronounced grey streak than earlier versions. - v. 3.2 has been infected with a virus previously known as Wrinkles, but recently renamed Fine Lines by the cosmetics industry. This is only a nuisance virus and will not affect the system's functioning. No known fixes exist for Wrinkles/Fine Lines, but several developers offer possible fixes at prices ranging from $20 to $2000. - This version also has decoupled from the Marital software suite. However, completion of the decoupling is not anticipated to be complete until sometime after the installation of Birthday v. 3.3. This will affect system functioning in various ways. For a full list of changes and modifications, please see the release notes to Marital Suite 8.5. - As a result of the decoupling, the installation of Birthday v. 3.2 differs in important respects from the several versions immediately preceding it. For example, Family Dinner has been replaced by Girls' Night Out v. 1.0. Remaining Known Issues Birthday v. 3.2 has several known issues remaining from previous versions: - The installation of Birthday is still accompanied by a shopping spree. We recommend users save up in advance of the installation. - The consumption of large quantities of snack foods still accompanies the installation of Birthday, though thanks to Self-Maintenance 1.1 you should notice that this is less pronounced than in earlier versions. - Birthday v. 3.2 does not noticeably decrease the print-addiction of the Andrea system. Scrapbooking, photography, and internet surfing are also not affected. As a result of the decoupling, television watching has been drastically reduced. ~~~~~ (Today's mission is to write release notes. Jennifer from Under the Ponderosas has helpfully supplied links for anyone who isn't a tech writer in their regular life: http://msdn2.microsoft.com/en-us/ie/aa740486.aspx Explained thusly: "When a software company issues a new piece of software (version 1.0), sometimes they let it go with a few known, minor bugs; sometimes a customer will discover a bug. So then the company will fix the problem and release an "update" or "patch" to the software free of charge. The software update (version 1.0.1) will have documentation explaining what the update is for. These are the release notes. "The structure of release notes will vary but they generally include: "A very short overview of what the software does, usually two lines; I'll be back with mine shortly.) Posted by Andrea at 7:02 AM | Comments (16) March 19, 2007 Monday Mission: Project Management
(This week's mission is to use graphs for your post. You're not supposed to use more than 100 words to clarify the contents of the graphs.)
A critical, though neglected portion of the Critical Path is to maximize Frances-time. However, the specific dates for Frances-time have not yet been allocated, as this is weather-dependent. We know it will not be Monday, as the forecast high is 0. Posted by Andrea at 6:57 AM | Comments (8) March 12, 2007 Monday Mission: PRESS RELEASE
FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE Revolutionary New Weight Loss Programme GTA, ON, March 12 2007--Move over, Fen-Phen; it's time for a new dangerous fad diet to hit the nation. Only this one prescribes no chemicals, pills, herbs, supplements, shakes, or gadgets. What is this miraculous new plan? "It's called the Divorce Diet," says Andrea M., a recent participant who lost eight pounds in two weeks. "I don't recommend it." How does it work? We asked her. "Well, you're too stressed to eat, and working out becomes this great excuse for leaving the room for an hour." She shrugged. "Really, though, there have got to be easier ways to lose weight. Plus it doesn't seem to be working that way for my husband. I mean, my ex-husband." Dr. Fifi, the plan's main advocate, had this to say: "Obviously I'm crazy about this thing. I've had five divorces now, and the weight just keeps falling off. But listen, it's not for everyone. I mean, if you're not married, then obviously you can't get divorced; and if you like your spouse, then the costs of the Divorce Diet may be higher than the benefits in your own particular case. As with all weight loss plans, you should consult your doctor before beginning." The Divorce Diet is also more expensive than most other weight loss plans, as it involves lawyer's fees and court costs. You may wish to consult a financial planner before undertaking the Divorce Diet. For more information, please contact Dr. Fifi at (555) ROF-LMAO. ### Posted by Andrea at 7:08 AM | Comments (16) March 5, 2007 Recipe for Disaster
(today's Monday Mission--a post in the form of a recipe) Preheat broiler. In a large mixing bowl, combine: 1 lb temperamental perfectionist Add: 1 tsp compulsion Mix until even. Spread in 10"x2" baking dish. Broil for 5 minutes. Place stick of dynamite under oven, and detonate. Serves two. ~~~~~ Thank you to everyone who commented and emailed yesterday. I appreciate it. I'm fine. Really. No, not good; but I'm fine. I owe one or two of you an apology, because I tried to let IRL friends who read the blog know about it beforehand and (*ahem*) I didn't get all of you. I'm sorry. Here's the thing-- The poker face doesn't actually come off. I know this makes me a freak, and I am mostly ok with that; but please don't be offended if I don't take you up on your very generous offers of shoulders for crying on or ears to spill into. It's not that I don't appreciate them, or the motivations that underpin them, or understand that for most people letting the guard down and being not-fine would be a considerable relief. There's a reason that not even my close IRL friends knew this was coming--with one exception--and there's a reason for the lack of caterwauling and carrying on now (note the abrasive tone? It's not voluntary). I can't. And if I did, I would feel worse, not better. Case in point: I went to a friend's birthday party Saturday night, and had a great time. Except that I forgot to get her a present. I don't think I acted that much outside my normal character, especially considering that my insulin pump ran out of insulin right before the cake. I'm not in any way claiming that this is normal, or healthy, but I want to make sure that no one feels slighted when I don't take them up on their offers. Once again, it's not you; it's me. And really--well, it's not Darfur, is it? This happens all the time, to all kinds of people, and if I keep my head on straight I'll get to the other side in one piece. I still have a relatively privileged and affluent life and I'm not going to waste brain cells in feeling badly for myself. Which is why I'm leaving--so I can stop wasting my brain cells in feeling badly for myself, and waste them in other, more pleasurable ways instead. But thank you. I mean that. Posted by Andrea at 6:48 AM | Comments (4) February 26, 2007 Monday Mission: New Releases
Upon Clean Floors (fantasy) In the distant kingdom of Lollipop lived a mage named Andreana, whose promising career as a caster of minor irritant spells is put in danger when the dustbunnies develop complex culture and language skills and threaten to evict her from the castle. Can Andreana find a magic spell to tame the rampaging mess before it is too late? And will she be able to defy the Clean Spell Curse that has compelled so many before her to hurl themselves from a second-story window upon the realization that the Clean Spell never ends? ~~~ ESP: Communication without Conversation (occult and parapsychology) The Establishment wants you to believe that the only way to communicate is through verbal speech. Not so! In this ground-breaking book from ESP master Ed Sick, learn how secret government programs are forcing you to communicate verbally so that your thoughts and wishes can be monitored. Then practice some easy ESP exercises to develop your own innate skills and achieve the dream of having everyone around you know exactly what you want without having to say a word. A bonus program is available to allow you to prevent other people from knowing exactly what you want. This program is for advanced practitioners only. ~~~ Meaning Through Misery: A Path to Enlightenment (self-help) What is the meaning of life? asks renowned psychologist and philosopher Dr. Sarah Teary. "Happiness is for chumps," she concludes; "the true path to wisdom and meaning on Earth is through misery." She then lays out a radically paradoxical program of self-flagellation, poor decision-making, pleasure-avoidance and rigorous daily newspaper reading to allow the dedicated pain-seeker to achieve total enlightenment. ~~~~~ Good luck in piecing together my weekend through the eight layers of misdirection and subtext, Dear Readers. It wasn't something easily summarized, which made this particular exercise even more of a challenge than I'd anticipated. Who else is playing this week? Posted by Andrea at 12:03 PM | Comments (7) Monday Mission: Advance Previews
I am going to list the next eight Monday Missions--in case any of you would like to play along, and would appreciate more than a few hours' notice to figure it out. Though hopefully it'll be a nice stock of good ideas regardless. Remember that I don't have a secret army, so there's no deadline. Feb 26 (today): Book jacket blurb: Write a post in the style of a book jacket plot synopsis, complete with cheesy advertising slogans, if you'd like ("Most riveting exploration of the social dynamics of poop this year!"). March 5: Recipe: Write a post in the style of a recipe. March 12: Press Release: Write a post in the style of a press release. March 19: Graphics: Make a chart or graph (either by hand and then scanned in, or in a graphics program). You can use up to 100 words to describe the chart or graph (can be a pie chart, line graph, whatever). March 26: Release Notes: Jen of Under the Ponderosas explains this as an addendum to a manual for a piece of software. Her idea was to write "release notes" for the childrearing manual that should have come with your kid--of course, if you don't have a kid, that won't work. (Jen, if you have a link to show an example for people, could you leave it in the comments? Then I'll edit the post to add it for the non-techy writers among us.) April 2: In Reverse: Instead of the standard personal blog post of Introductory Anecdote, Rumination, Epiphany, Resolution, try this: Resolution, Epiphany, Rumination, Illustrative Anecdote. April 9: Show Don't Tell: This one is harder, and is based on the standard advice to fiction writers to avoid exposition and instead use dialoge and scenes to convey important information. So today, tell a story. A very short story. No rumination, no epiphany, no resolution--all anecdote. April 16: Advertisement: Write a post in the form of an advertisement for a new product. Posted by Andrea at 7:16 AM | Comments (5) February 19, 2007 The Investigation of a Novel Approach for the Treatment of Insomnia
It has long been known that insomnia particularly strikes mothers; a cruel injustice, certainly, since there are few other groups more in need of sleep. Current methods of treating insomnia suffer from known drawbacks: medications can be habit-forming, relaxation techniques can lose their effectiveness over time, and no one has yet determined how to apply enough force with a frying pan to achieve unconsciousness without also leaving a nice bruise and a welt. Our subject for this experiment is a nearly-thirty-two year old married mother of one preschool girl who has suffered from chronic insomnia since childhood. Relaxation techniques have been only intermittently effective, as have medications; her insomnia has laughed in the face of sleep hygeine methods; and she has declined to attempt the frying pan solution. Her current method of choice is the iPod audiobook, which distracts her conscious mind from the effort to achieve sleep for long enough that sleep sneaks in through the side door. The subject was involuntarily submitted to our research into a novel technique, referred to as the Snap Out of It Method, based on the hypothesis that insomnia is just a bad habit, and you can sleep if you really want to. The experimental design replaced her husband's ten-year-old CPAP machine (used to treat sleep apnea) and its constant though slightly loud motor with a new model that is quieter but oscillates in volume. This new machine has the effect of rendering the iPod treatment ineffective, as the oscillating volume is distinctly audible through the ear buds and distracts her from the content of the audiobook. It also really pisses her off, which is an added and unanticipated benefit of the approach. We have followed the subject's sleep patterns since early January (when the machine was replaced). Interesting patterns have emerged. The subject has attempted to do without the iPod treatment and replaced it with the earplug treatment to block out the oscillating noise of the new CPAP machine. This most frequently leaves the subject awake to ungodly hours of the morning, as there is no little voice in her ear calming her down with anecdotes about quarks, tectonic plates, presentism or the use of cell-phones in public places. The subject has taken to retiring to the guest bedroom at 2:00 am in a huff. The subject's husband has offered to replace the mask on the new CPAP machine with a quieter model if one can be found, but has not offered to go back to the old CPAP machine, in accordance with the Snap Out of It Model of insomnia treatment. The subject points out, incorrectly we believe, that insomnia is not a bad habit and she can't simply choose to sleep in the same room as this infuriating noise. The subject's husband cowardly caved in the face of this unreasonable demand and exchanged the machine for a quieter one without an oscillating motor. The subject has returned to the iPod method of insomnia treatment. We conclude that we have clearly chosen the wrong subject for this investigative trial. We are currently canvasing for sneaky spouses to volunteer their wives and husbands for a larger, more representative trial group for our innovative insomnia treatment. Posted by Andrea at 12:12 PM | Comments (14) A Monday Mission
Mad Hatter's post last week about blog formulae got me thinking about my own, which I think is less of a formula and more of a catalogue: 1: Listen up!/I have the solution to all the world's problems. (Ah, if only I were running things.) When it comes to style, I admit I have been contaminated by lifelong exposure to Strunk and White's and I have a difficult time using adjectives, adverbs, and words of more than two syllables unless they are unavoidable. Sadly, they are unavoidable often at the rate of several per sentence. (It's funny how that works out.) Within each category I probably have a recognizable formula. (Aww, Frances: several adorable anecdotes, complete with dialogue, concluded with a resounding endorsement of her WBPE, BN status. Listen Up!: Numbers, numbers, numbers, studies, more numbers, rhetorical flourishes, all in a tone of YOU IDIOTS. Lo: memory, memory, memory, epiphany, resolution.) It's easy to fall into a blogging rut because we're strapped for time and a formula lets us get more written faster. Which is great. Agatha Christie was a fabulous writer even if all of her mystery novels were identical, and Dooce has a large following even though her formula can practically be broken down by sentence. It's not bad to have a formula. But what if you don't want to have a formula? I don't. Not because they're bad (see above), but because it does get boring after a while, and it can be fun to stretch yourself and try something new. So I'm going to try something new. On (most) Mondays, I'm going to write a gimmicky blog post that absolutely has a formula, just not one I've used before. And if you'd like, you can play along too. (You don't have to post it today. Mostly because, despite my reputation, I don't have a secret bloggy police force that will come to your house and drag you away if it isn't posted by midnight.) Your mission for this Monday, should you choose to accept it, is to write a blog post in the form of a journal abstract. Mine will be up at noon. (For anyone who's never written a journal abstract, here are a few links that describe the basic structure: How to Write an Abstract--Phil Koopman Writing an Informative Abstract--American Sociological Association) Posted by Andrea at 7:20 AM | Comments (5) |
Change is God (Octavia Butler, Parable Series) "Remember this: Nothing is written in the stars. Not these stars, nor any others. No one controls your destiny." Wicked Email Frances! frances AT athenadreaming DOT org You can email her mother too (that's me):
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Earn Your Karmic Brownie Points The WHOYCBE Not So Secret Spoilers These links open in a new browser window. Random Writer's Quote Writing American Gods was like that: even when I hated it completely I was having the time of my life. ~ Neil Gaiman
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The title of this blog was taken from the short story "The Language of Nna Mmoy" by Ursula le Guin in her collection, Changing Planes. I won't tell you why or how, because I want you to read the story and figure it out for yourself.
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