Writing almost 30 pages can give you a headache. I found that out yesterday. I just got into the zone, and I couldn't stop! Well, I did stop for Sarah Palin's speech. Wow. I adore her. But then I went back to writing and pounded out another 1000 words before bed.
I was at 2500 words before going down to pick beans for dinner, and I'd thought that maybe I'd be lucky and get all the way to 4K before bed. Actually, I hit 4K before dinner. Then 6K before 10 when Mom sent me to bed. I was so happy. And tired.
*laughs* This is fun. I'm at 80 pages now for this untitled novel. No, no one is going to get to read this one yet. I'm going to be evil and keep it all to myself. Mwahaha!
But, first, thanks to Miss Laura for my 1001st comment. (Ya'll talk to me too much, yanno that? Man...)
If you weren't here for the first part of this, go check out THIS POST first. Otherwise, this won't make much sense. ;-)
Anyhoo, here are the lines, titles, and what I think.
1. "High, high overhead the horse circled slowly, majestically." - Ariosto, Chelsea Quinn Yarbro. Thus began a book filled with mostly adjectives and metaphors. And bad punctuation. I couldn't even finish it.
2. "I, Cleopatra, Princess of the Nile, write this in my own hand." Cleopatra VII Daughter of the Nile, Kristina Gregory. The opening is kind of bland, but I loved the book.
3. "Kate O'Malley had been in the dungeon since dawn." The Negotiator, Dee Henderson. Hey, she's got an Irish name and the book's got a dungeon in it. Miss Laura could tell you that I have a thing for dungeons and prisons in books. And this is a modern, FBI novel.
4. "When twelve-year-old Andrea Carter brought her golden palomino mare to a skidding halt near her favorite fishing spot, she expected to find a bubbling, splashing creek full of trout just waiting to be snatched up for supper. Instead, she found a dead man." Family Secret, Susan K. Marlow. That is a book I would definitely read, because how many writers have a 12-year-old find a dead person in the second sentence? It strikes me as daring.
5. "During the night Detjens died and the rest of them were almost glad." The Sands of the Kalahari, William Mulvihill. That line made me buy the book (for 25 cents...). Honestly. The cover is completely tan, there's no summary, I was at a garage sale, and Mom was leaving. I saw that and said, "Woah!" However, most of my blog readers would not want to read it. Ask me about it if you're interested in reading it and want to know why I'm not recommending it.
6. "Shiloh was not an easy place to locate, even with a road map." Shiloh Autumn, Bodie and Brock Thoene. If I'd not been required to read this for school and two of the characters had awesome names (Ellis and Birch), I wouldn't have gotten through it. It was a completely boring and predictable series. Not to mention that Ellis threw hissy fits too much.
7. "Sergeant Eugene Skinner, USMC, ran a baleful eye over his honor guard detachment." Stargate Retaliation, Bill McCay. Something about this hit a nerve, and this book was actually the motivation behind the last post. It's not professional enough for me for something military. First, there's the first name thrown in. Sergeant Skinner would be called Sergeant Skinner through the rest of the novel, and we'd forget the first name, anyway. It's extra information, and it throws off the whole cadence of the sentence. Then... "baleful eye". Meh. I was not impressed. And, no, I did not read any more after that.
So that's it. But I'll steal what Jess said in her comment, because I can't say it any better:
"I want a first sentence to hook me in with conflict or a sense of character. Most of these sentences don't do that. But I won't ever judge a book by one sentence. It could be a one-paragraph whopper, you know? I still want that opening line to perform well, but I give it leeway; it may need help. Not everyone is the next Tolstoy or Austen."
Except that I hate Austen. *ducks and flees from irate Austen fans*
I'm going to put out a small test for you guys. No, there's no reason for it at all. I'm just curious about what you'll say. Here are the first line or two from a few books picked from my bookshelf, pretty much at random. My goal is for you to read the following 7 opening lines and tell me in a comment if you think you would like to read the book. Bonus points if you know what the book is. Ready? Go!
1. "High, high overhead the horse circled slowly, majestically."
2. "I, Cleopatra, Princess of the Nile, write this in my own hand."
3. "Kate O'Malley had been in the dungeon since dawn."
4. "When twelve-year-old Andrea Carter brought her golden palomino mare to a skidding halt near her favorite fishing spot, she expected to find a bubbling, splashing creek full of trout just waiting to be snatched up for supper. Instead, she found a dead man."
5. "During the night Detjens died and the rest of them were almost glad."
6. "Shiloh was not an easy place to locate, even with a road map."
7. "Sergeant Eugene Skinner, USMC, ran a baleful eye over his honor guard detachment."
Why is it that girls who love horses are called cowgirls, whereas girls who love cows are just... girls who love cows. Why aren't we called cowgirls and they called horsegirls?
This is what happens to the Punmaster when she has too much sugar. (note: this was written several days ago and I thought to post it here when Miss Laura's brother started acting... weird... after Church because he had coffee) (another note: the mathematical idea of Pi is 3.14. That is important here)
So, *ahem* The infamous meme of a hyper Punmaster:
***
A - Available? Sorry, I'm booked through next week. Could you try back then?
B - Best Friend(s)? Tito. My wonderful calculator. We're engaged and the wedding will be on March 14. (March 14 = 3.14 = ____)
C - CRUSH? Dropping pianos crushes things. At least they do in comics...
D - DOGS NAME? "Dummy" (usually, unless I'm feeling generous, in which case it's "Stupid".)
E - EASIEST PERSON TO TALK TO? Joshua. He never says anything back at me and is just so supportive... just as long as I keep food in his bowl. (My little Joshua be a kitty)
F - Favorite Food? Anything that's not still screaming.
G - GUMMY BEARS OR WORMS? Worms! You can put them in your mouth and make them slither in and out... Grosses my brothers out. :-P
H - HOMETOWN? A little patch of nowhere in the middle of... nowhere.
I - IF YOU COULD MOVE WOULD YOU? Move where? Like from here to the kitchen (er, more specifically the coffee pot)? Sure! Anytime!
J - JOB? I babysit the most awesome 10yo you will ever meet. She is SO cool! Today we went up in the woods hunting for bones, we made candy... It was fun.
K - KIDS? What about kids? I love kids! We have two named Calvin and Hobbes. Well, they're not really kids anymore. We got them a year ago, and they're pretty well grown. (kids = baby goats, btw)
L - LONGEST CAR RIDE? A drive from Washington to Arizona to North Dakota to Washington. It was a long ride in more ways than many.
M - MILK FLAVOR? Raw.
N - NUMBER OF SIBLINGS? 3. Wait, do we count the almost-brothers? That would be about 7. So I practically have about 7 brothers.
O - ONE WISH? To finish this quiz and get to finish eating dinner.
P - PHOBIA(S)? Revolving doors! Eek! We hates them, Precious! They're wicked little things that try to eat your feet when you walk through.
Q - FAVORITE QUOTE?
MacGyver: -verb
The act of building something (usually explosive) out of handy arts supplies. (Example: I was locked in a titanium cupboard and had to MacGyver my way out with only baking soda, four thumbtacks, and a chocolate Crunch bar.)
R - REASON TO SMILE? There are many reasons to smile! For example, when you hit your brother square in the back with a water balloon, THAT is reason to smile.
S - SONG YOU LAST HEARD? Summer of '69, by... Bryan Adams?
T - TIME YOU WOKE UP? 5. Then 6. Then 7.
U - UNKNOWN FACT ABOUT ME? I'm weird. Wait, that's not unknown...
V - VEGETABLES YOU LOVE? Ooh... Um... hmm... Asparagus, broccoli, cabbage, beets, beet greens, Swiss chard, green beans, wax beans, peas, carrots, lettuce, cucumbers, peppers, celery... *goes on and on forever*
W - WORST HABIT? Talking about food too much. Did I mention I'm in the middle of dinner? Taco soup. Wonderful stuff. :-)
X - X-RAYS YOU'VE HAD? I'm pretty sure they X-rayed to see if I actually had a brain. Turns out I didn't.
I've always been looking for a song with my name it. Mom said she always sang Jennifer Juniper to me, and I do like the song, but Donovan pronounces my name in French: Zhenifah. And all the other songs about Jennifer say: Jennifah. I guess the 'fur' at the end doesn't lend itself to music very well. So I'd nearly given up hope finding a song with the furry part of my name intact.
And then...
In 1973, John Denver (who happens to be my favorite singer) sang a little song called "Zachary and Jennifer", and I finally found it this morning. Enjoy. :-)
This post promises to have Miss Laura and Miss Katie in stitches. Oh, well... I'm excited.
Grandpa has promised me a present this coming spring. My very own Angus/Semental/Jersey heifer, who will be a milk cow eventually. I am quite excited about this, because I'm going to do something special with this little gal. Miss Laura can tell you I'm excited about the idea, because I actually told her about it. (It takes a lot for me to talk about something)
Grandpa and I are going to find or make an ox cart for her and I'm going to train her to pull it.
If anyone wants to volunteer some name suggestions for her, I'm trying to find the right one. Right now I'm thinking about Yulia (Russian form of Julia).
Having a work cow had always been a dream of mine, and I am very, very happy. Before ya'll ask, no, I am NOT willing to get a horse for this job. Nasty, springy, nervy creatures with legs that are waaaaay too long and spindly. Give me a nice, solid cow any day.
Step 2: Pull out pin.
Step 3: Place grenade in you kitchen junk drawer.
Step 4: RUN FOR YOUR LIFE!
Step 5: After the smoke clears, return to junk drawer. Try to pry out the junk that has now been loosened slightly by grenade.
Step 6: Give up and find a jack hammer.
Step 7: Since your parents won't let you bring said hammer in the house, try to find a chisel.
Step 8: The chisel is in the junk drawer. Try to pry it out with your bare hands.
Step 9: Find band-aids.
Step 10: Try to lubricate the junk with vegetable oil.
Step 11: Unfortunately, your mother found you.
Step 12: RUN FOR YOUR LIFE!
Step 13: Return to drawer without oil.
Step 14: Ask your brother to clean it, but he won't without sufficient pay, which is an amount that should keep you in debt until your 67th birthday.
Step 15: Give up and have lunch.
You've completed that? See? It wasn't so hard, was it?
I'm at 6 and 7. You should be laughing by now, realizing that being at "sixes and sevens" is a British term for utter confusion. Which is about accurate, looking around at the kitchen, which I have pretty much covered with junk and/or destroyed. There's ink smeared on my hands and all kinds of fun. Good thing my keyboard is black! (No, Mom! I'm joking, I'm joking!)
Now. Allow me to describe how I clean junk drawers. I mean, what I posted up there is standard procedure for everyone, right? *Everyone nods* Right. This is what I do:
If it doesn't work, I pitch it.
If I don't like it, I pitch it.
If I see no need for it, I pitch it.
If I haven't seen it since the last ice age, I pitch it.
I put it straight in a trash bag, because if I were to put it somewhere to be donated, inevitably, someone will wander by and say, "Hey! That is cool! I think I could use that at some point before the next ice age!" and put it back in the junk drawer. It never fails.
I mean, why do we need 2,597 gel pens that don't work but look pretty? Exactly how many bent paper clips do we need? Why do we have receipts crinkled up in the corner? And do we really need a whole hamster cage in there? What about the world's biggest collection of pennies and ancient keys? 75 decks of cards that are all mixed together? NO! Be gone! All of you!
Everything other than that gets sorted into containers, color-coded, alphabetized, and thoroughly cleaned. Well, in my mother's fondest dreams. I do sort them (markers in one, pens in another, pencils in another) and put them back in a way that it will appear as though I thought for a long time about the placement of them.
And, now, if you will excuse me, I must get back to work. There are some things to take care of.
I have dreams and ambitions. There are things I really want to do with my life. But if my Lord decides that right now is when He's going to come back, I'd be thrilled to drop everything and be with him.
What brought this up: My dear aunt Pat asked me about my conclusion in my last post, saying (and this is a rough summary of what she said) that it wasn't really something she had expected someone as young as me to think of, and if I'd given up hope and ambition.
I'm reminded daily of how imperfect we are. Especially while I'm watching the Olympics. Watching these athletes reminds me of how imperfect I am, because I could never do those things, even though I want to more than anything. There. My greatest wish was always to be a gymnast and fly on the uneven bars, floor exercises, and vault.
In reality, I can't even run without pinching nerves in my ankles and knees, popping joints, and all sorts of nasty. I'm not coordinated, graceful, or flexible. So, no gymnastics for me. Besides, all the Olympic gymnasts are about a foot shorter than me, so I'd have to shrink. Say, Miss Laura and Miss Katie might like that, come to think of it... Anyway, I can do lots of things well, but there are things I can't do well, and that's one of 'em.
It just reminds me that one day, there won't be imperfections in me. I can't wait. The first thing I'm going to do in Heaven is run to my Master. :-D I can't wait!
Well, Russia has sent forces into Georgia, killing at least 2,000 people and just missed blowing up an oil pipeline. Georgia has pulled 1000 troops out of Iraq to fight off the separatists in S. Ossetia. Georgia has approved a state of war for 15 days.
I'll be keeping an eye on what's happening. Doesn't sound good.
Also, ya'll pray for China during the Olympics. Keep our brothers and sisters in Christ in your prayers. There might be a chance for release of some Christian prisoners. President Bush might be visiting some house churches which will bring them out from under the radar.
Speaking of China, Joey Cheek, an Olympic speed skater, was banned from going to China because of his work with creating Team Darfur. The Olympics are open to everyone in the world... who agrees with China. Even the opening ceremonies, what little I saw of them, were laced with propaganda. *shakes head*
I don't know about you guys, but I look out the window and hope to see my Lord returning. When that glorious day comes... Well... *smile* We won't have to worry about the economy, the terrorists, the wars, the oil crisis... We will be gathered in by our sweet Jesus, and I can't wait.
Well, to make a long story short, I managed to whack a good bit out of two knuckles with a knife that was really sharp while opening a box. *headdesk* It doesn't hurt at all (I'm convinced something is wrong with the nerves in my hands), but... Man, that was stupid. Not to mention bloody. *curls lip* One day I'll learn...
Yeah, and on that day, the pigs will fly, the cows will come home, and Elvis will perform live.
Mr. Tucket. It's a book that I haven't read for years and years... Not since the vacation of horrors in... '98? Somethin' like that. And I still remember it like I read it yesterday.
Francis Alphonse Tucket was traveling with his family in covered wagons when he was captured by the Pawnees. Thanks to a one-armed trapper named Jason Grimes, he escaped that and went with Jason to have lots of adventures trapping. Then he manages to 'adopt' two young orphans, Lottie and Billy, whose family died of cholera. The series is their trip to the west and Francis' family.
It's for ages 10 and up (I still love it, so there you go), and it's by Gary Paulsen. Yep, he's the author of Hatchet. *grin* I just got that and Brian's Winter at a garage sale yesterday. Reviews of those to come soon, I think. I've read Hatchet before, and it was so good, man! But ya'll know I'm into rough wilderness survival books and all that (maybe you didn't know, but anyhoo...), so, as usual, Miss Laura would not read either of these books. She might read Mr. Tucket.
So. This review is over. *curtsy* Now go read Mr. Tucket. Or another book that you'd like. Just don't stay on the computer too long! The rest of the world is calling! :-D
And *I* am going to read The Last of the Really Great Whangdoodles by Julie Andrews (Yes, the Mary Poppins and Sound of Music Julie Andrews)
Because this is my 200th post on this blog, almost my blogoversary, and you've all left almost 1000 comments, I thought I'd post a best-of post. Those would be the ones I thought were funny/cool. :-)
I accepted Christ after my parents told me a story when I was about 7. I don't remember whether it was Mom or Dad telling it to me, but at any rate, this is how it went.
Background: Down the road from us was a tiny general store, called (by us) the Little Store. You could buy candies there for a penny each. For my brothers and me, it was a BIG deal when Mom would give us pennies for candy.
Story: "Jen, let's say you went down to the Little Store and you got a piece of candy. You could go up to the counter and tell Mrs. Gloria that you would like to put it on an account and pay for it next time you came in. Then the next time, you ask for another piece of candy to be put on your account. Eventually, you have fifty dollars worth of candies on your account. [Jennifer's note: Fifty dollars was an unthinkable wealth that I would never, ever in my life be able to pay Mrs. Gloria. Just like sin, right?] Then, one day, a man comes and tells you he is willing pay Mrs. Gloria for your candy."
A simple story, but it said a lot to me. Sin was kind of an abstract idea. Pennies and candy? I'd seen those before. So, of course, the man who came and wanted to pay for my candy (sin) was Jesus.
I was baptized soon after that down in the river.
What's your salvation story?
Edited: Mom just told me it was our pastor who told us the story. :-P
Bear with me on this. I just dreamed it up a moment ago. It's a worst-case scenario.
The year is 2018. The US economy has crashed and the country is in chaos. All foreign oil imports have stopped, and the oil reserves in the US have been used. Terrorists from the Middle East are infiltrating the country. With little fuel left, the US military is not able to centralize its power. So... it's militia and guerrilla warfare. Our protag is an unexperienced guerrilla soldier. She has an AK-47 and an XD Sub-compact. And... well, that's all I have for right now. Should be interesting...
So... I just thought I'd post about three of my writing friends (mentioned in the order in which I met them). Two of them just submitted manuscripts! :-D
First, there is Susan Marlow. I call her Andi. (note: there are two links there) She (and the rest of us) are waiting until this fall when her fourth book comes out. I have the first three and I can't wait for this next one. The old west, a tomboy in a boarding school for ladies, the slave trade who owns an adorable little Chinese girl named Lin Mei... Ya'll make sure to pick this one up this fall. ;-) She's busy writing the fifth, which promises to be awesome. Teehee! Good luck, my dear friend/"mom"! ~Lyric
Next is Jessica Tudor. She submitted her novel, The Faery Choir, to agents somethin' like a week ago and has already had a few agents ask for the full deal. I'll tell you right now that when this is out, I will *make* you read it. Or at the very least, I'll make my friends borrow it. Jess is so good at coming up with plots that keep you guessing (and in the execution of said plots, she is amazing). And charming characters. Especially the guy. Miss Laura will probably want to take him home. :-P I hope this project brings you success, Jess! ~Jen P/Cora
Finally... Svenja. Or Syd. Or Squid. Or Her Royal Squidness. (She has almost as many names as I do. Well, maybe not...) She just sent her 52K word manuscript off to Firebrand Literary. I've not read any of her stuff yet, so I'll just say that I can't wait to read her novel. But I'm sure it's "all nice and spiffeh and perfecto" as she would say. :-) May the Lord bless your future, Svenja! ~Lyric the oread
And a *hug* to all three of you. This whole writing deal is hard work, no?
I mentioned before that Great Uncle H passed away on my birthday. We went down to Oregon yesterday help his daughter, C, get the house in order. Ha. Uncle H was a packrat. Yanno those houses where there's junk piled up so much that there's walkways between stacks of junk and... that's all that the house is? We helped her sort through it. We couldn't just throw away the stuff that looked like trash, because you never knew what was in it. C found the family diamonds in a canning jar wrapped up in (used) Kleenexes. So... Did I mention Uncle Hank saved everything? *sigh* It was horrible, guys. I'm not going to tell you what we found within minutes of being there. Unfun.
When I got there, I didn't really know what to expect. I mean, I'd been told about it and saw some pictures, but I didn't really know what we were up against. But it was funny when we walked up to the door, and C (a gal I've seen once before in my life) opens the door and exclaims, "JEN! YOU CAME!" I don't know how people remember me so well. Anyway, so we go in, and I see STUFF! C's husband R, remembered me, too. Although about half an hour after we got there, he said, "Jen is your name, right?" And I replied, "One of them..." R's cool. He's a professional jouster, and really nice.
So we sorted and threw away and donated and packed... I was given everything that was written in German. They also gave me the bread machine. R asked me if I wanted any more knives, and I said sure, so he handed me a pack of five new knives. Then he handed me some Barbie valentines. He's a joker.
Then at 8ish, we drove home. Got back at midnight. Looooong day...
So the moral of this story is:
*Don't collect everything you ever owned. Especially millions of old pictures.
*Don't leave your important papers scattered in piles of trash.
*Let someone know what your important papers *are*! (Like, what bank you belong to, life insurance...) We were looking for a burgundy folder. And... that's all we knew. Never found it (Surprise!... Not!)
Mom went down once already (and it was even worse then), and when she got back, we cleaned our house. Cleaned it like maniacs.
We did find pictures of the lady I was named after. I'd only seen one picture of her before, and it was so nice to see her in a 'real life' photo. I always imagined Grandmother Cora to be taller... Teehee! Small people are way cool, too! :-D
Now I'm going to go find some... coffee or something...
You have entered the blog of a farm girl, unpublished novelist, avid knitter, life-long homeschooler, and Punmaster. Feel free to leave a comment, even if you're not an HsB blogger! *wink*
