Writing: My New Hamlet Manifestation
Time is so ephemeral.
It seems to pass by so quickly, so fleetingly that even as I grasp wildly to try and hold it , it slips through my fingers like sand. I suppose that's a universal human habit, grasping at straws although we are well aware there is no significant yield.
I'm trying to write a book. Yet, everytime after I've written a few hundred words, and I scroll up- face flushed with satisfaction- to reread my art, it does not seem to have the essential quality of an author. It seems forced, as though I was being compelled by some mortal threat to write a story. So, I sigh and try again muttering about how frustrating and utterly insatiable my desires for good writing are. Perhaps I'll post some here- its not as though anyone reads this.
In other news, I've coined a new word: 'Gah'. Yes, that's right, for a small fee I give you permission to use this newly-minted, unfailingly charming and endearing word. It means (but do understand, there is a great deal of artistic licsence permitted here) frustration.
My hockey team is doing very well this season. Perhaps I should correct that- its not really 'my' hockey team. I'm not devoted or obsessed enough, to start thinking of them as a possession. I'm just a mild observor, who takes occasional interest. My city's hockey team is doing very well this season.
Good.
I've just finished reading the first book of Guy Gavriel Kay's series, The Sarantine Mosaic- again. I read it so many years ago, back when I was immersed in my own world of unhappiness and tragedy. Now, though, as if I were seeing light coming through a mosaic in Ravenna, it seems perfectly clear to me that this novel is a brilliant work. He writes so persuasively, every word drawing you into the vortex of dangerous deception that he has artfully painted. A refreshing, elegant novel that has led me to read its sequel- again.
And because no blog is complete without a proper dose of randomness (neologism you understand?) I will type the following:
Fo shizzle.
Heh, so out of character.
It seems to pass by so quickly, so fleetingly that even as I grasp wildly to try and hold it , it slips through my fingers like sand. I suppose that's a universal human habit, grasping at straws although we are well aware there is no significant yield.
I'm trying to write a book. Yet, everytime after I've written a few hundred words, and I scroll up- face flushed with satisfaction- to reread my art, it does not seem to have the essential quality of an author. It seems forced, as though I was being compelled by some mortal threat to write a story. So, I sigh and try again muttering about how frustrating and utterly insatiable my desires for good writing are. Perhaps I'll post some here- its not as though anyone reads this.
In other news, I've coined a new word: 'Gah'. Yes, that's right, for a small fee I give you permission to use this newly-minted, unfailingly charming and endearing word. It means (but do understand, there is a great deal of artistic licsence permitted here) frustration.
My hockey team is doing very well this season. Perhaps I should correct that- its not really 'my' hockey team. I'm not devoted or obsessed enough, to start thinking of them as a possession. I'm just a mild observor, who takes occasional interest. My city's hockey team is doing very well this season.
Good.
I've just finished reading the first book of Guy Gavriel Kay's series, The Sarantine Mosaic- again. I read it so many years ago, back when I was immersed in my own world of unhappiness and tragedy. Now, though, as if I were seeing light coming through a mosaic in Ravenna, it seems perfectly clear to me that this novel is a brilliant work. He writes so persuasively, every word drawing you into the vortex of dangerous deception that he has artfully painted. A refreshing, elegant novel that has led me to read its sequel- again.
And because no blog is complete without a proper dose of randomness (neologism you understand?) I will type the following:
Fo shizzle.
Heh, so out of character.
posted by gah at 3:19 PM
3 Comments:
Fascinating work I must say... Guy Gavriel Kay is perhaps the greatest author that ever lived. Good luck measuring up to him. As you said, nothing is great or near to greatness without randomness.
I'm sure you could never measure up to a man of Farquad's nature.
I'll let you do the "measuring" princess.
Toodles
i'm quite sorry to say that 'gah' is not your word. i have been using it for over 6 months and i would have to say it can be used for frustration, shock, surprise, madness and the list goes on. be careful what you call your own.
Hello,
Random Commenter! This makes me more pleased than you know.
I shall hitherto use Gah with proper reference to your person.
Anonymous???
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