|
|
|
|
Solving your writing problems since 1998! |
|
| |||||||||||
|
The Write Way 13 December 2002 Hung Out to Dry Greetings, I was remiss last week in failing to celebrate the fourth birthday of this little publication ... that's right, Folks - four years! Can you believe it? You can? Oh ... Well, I thought it was a big deal ... If you're interested you can read all the past issues. Just scroll down to the end of the page to start reading from the very first edition that went out on 4 December 1998. If you know anyone who might enjoy this, please send them an invitation to join. All they need to do is click on this link and they'll receive the free weekly newsletter of writing tips. During the week, Albert (who lives in San Diego) and I were having a bit of chat about this and that, and we got to discussing clotheslines - as you do when you're conversing across the ether and can touch on every subject known to humankind. He sent me a t'riffic little poem about a clothesline. You can find an illustrated version. One search revealed the author as Marilyn Walker, but many sites have the author as Unknown (common name on the Net, that one!) so take your pick. Can you remember those good old days when backyards were vast expanses of space, rather than Tuscan-inspired, designer entertainment areas for yuppies? In those days, just about every Australian home had its Hills Hoist in pride of place in the back yard. This clothesline was a vast improvement on the previous version - two strands of wire strung between trees (or free-standing posts if you were very flash) and held up with clothes props (tall, sturdy branches with a fork at the top to hold the line ... all that stood between your mum's clean washing and the dusty yard below!) The Hills Hoist was a great Aussie invention - right up there with Vegemite and the wine cask if you ask me! It consists of four sturdy metal arms radiating from a central pole and strung with clothesline in ever-decreasing concentric patterns. You can wind it up so that the dog can't swing from the sheets and it spins when the wind blows. It really gets clothes lovely and dry and fluffy. (There's just nothing like the smell of freshly washed clothes that have dried in the sun, is there?) The Hills Hoist also made a fantastic backyard play ground. You could drape it with old blankets and make forts or houses; wind it down to its lowest point and peg lines of towels to make corridors and space ships. You could swing on it and get pushed around by your mates; little kids got lifted up to reach the spokes; and really little ones who couldn't hold on sat in slings made from towels and sheets we pegged between the lines. When I think back, it must have been a nightmare for our parents - waiting for us to fall and break something ... not to mention the damage we did to the HH. I used to think that 45 degree lean on the spokes was an integral part of the design, since everyone's was the same. Every house (bar one) we've ever lived in has had its Hills Hoist. The exception was the 100+ year old bakery we lived in for three years that had a line and clothes props. I've mentioned our place at Kiama before - both our kids were born there and our house was on the top of a hill. Great views, but whenever I went out to hang out nappies, the wind would spin the ruddy thing around at a hundred miles an hour and wrap the nappies around the line so tightly that by the time I was finished, I'd have tears (from the wind and frustration) streaming down my face. The good old days, eh? Even though this is the time of year we tend to get sentimental and reminisce about the past when we all get together. Pardon? You're what? You feel as if you're dangling? What are you waiting for? Oh ... The rest of the sentence. I see. It really is quite annoying, isn't it? When people write "sentences" like that one. If you start with an expression like "although, even though" or similar, then you owe it to your reader to finish the thought. Run-on sentences are (in my opinion) actually more annoying than sentence fragments they're sequences of ideas that are related they're all separate, completed thoughts. See what I mean? A run-on sentence doesn't have to go on for half a page - it can just be connected, but separate ideas that are strung together without the aid of a conjunction, full stop or a semi-colon. Whack in one (or more) of those and everyone feels better: Run-on sentences are (in my opinion) actually more annoying than sentence fragments; they're sequences of ideas that are related but they're all separate, completed thoughts. OR Run-on sentences are (in my opinion) actually more annoying than sentence fragments. They're sequences of ideas that are related but they're all separate, completed thoughts. So when you're writing your Christmas brag letter this year, spare a thought for your readers and make sure every sentence actually makes sense. And while you're in Christmas mode ... well ... feel free to make a donation to my Running Away Fund! 1. Pay by PayPal:
2. Click here to subscribe for a full year OR 3. Use your credit card on my secure order form: http://www.write101.com/fund.htm (You can also access the PayPal subscription link from this page if the link above didn't work for you. With PayPal, you can use your credit card, PayPal account or pay online using your own cheque account.) OR 4. Send a cheque: http://www.write101.com/fund.htm This week's quiz: Match the words with their meanings: foppery, pedantic, benison, wend, garner, lachrymose, utile, chary, paean, eponymous 1. to go forward; to journey 2. tearful; causing tears 3. discreetly cautious; hesitant and vigilant about possible risks 4. relating to, or being one for whom something is named or is believed to be named 5. a blessing 6. a joyous song of praise or thanksgiving 7. to acquire by effort 8. a foolish action 9. useful 10.unimaginative; pedestrian Did you know that after Mary Poppins had finished her film, she went to California and became an expert at predicting which people who would suffer from bad breath. Her sign read, "Super California Psychic - expert, halitosis." A chap is driving home for the Christmas holidays, when he starts to feel hungry. He stops at a roadside diner for breakfast. After looking over the menu he says, "I'll have the eggs benedict." His order comes a while later and it's served on a big, shiny hubcap. He says to the waiter, "Hey, what's with the hubcap?" And the waiter answers, "There's no plate like chrome for the hollandaise!" Last week's quiz: Match each word with its meaning:
Here's a Christmas tale with a moral (thanks John): A family had twin
boys whose only resemblance to each other was their looks. If one felt it was
too hot, the other thought it was too cold. If one said the TV was too loud, the
other claimed the volume needed to be turned up. Opposite in every way, one was
an eternal optimist, the other a doom and gloom pessimist. Love it!
Got a question about grammar, punctuation or any other language matter? Here's the place to go: http://pub37.bravenet.com/forum/show.php?usernum=3170114826 Then add a flag and message to the Map of the World: http://pub37.bravenet.com/guestmap/view.php?usernum=3170114826 You can read the previous 99 messages by clicking on the List button at the top of the page. A Little Something Extra FREE Report: How to Write a Book ... Click for your copy! If you have a few days off over the holiday period, you might be thinking about doing a spot of writing ... "It's a challenge for every author...no matter how many novels or short stories you've written. Just where do you go for sources of fiction?" Get some great ideas here. Word of the week: Lagniappe (noun): a small gift given to a customer by a merchant at the time of a purchase; something given or obtained gratuitously or by way of good measure. What a great word for this time of year ... Why not ask your friendly local shop-keeper if you're likely to find a little lagniappe in your order this year? ... Let me know what he says! It's an interesting word, isn't it? According to dictionary.com: "Lagniappe derives from New World Spanish la ñapa, “the gift,” and ultimately from Quechua yapay, “to give more.” The word came into the rich Creole dialect mixture of New Orleans and there acquired a French spelling. It is still used in the Gulf states, especially southern Louisiana, to denote a little bonus that a friendly shopkeeper might add to a purchase. By extension, it may mean 'an extra or unexpected gift or benefit.'” Here are some great little lagniappes you could pop into the stocking of that favourite person ... a mousepad that lets everyone know - in Latin - that it's hands off; a clock that reminds you that time flies; a bag that informs the world you're born to shop. Click here to see the full range: http://www.cafeshops.com/write101 (Click on the images to enlarge and read the Latin.) Oxymoron of the week: plastic glasses. That's one we'll be using over the holidays as we lounge around the pool having drinkies while some of you shiver in the snow ... Schools break up this week out here, so this Latin phrase is one that many parents will be able to relate to in the coming 6 weeks: In loco parentis (In the place of the parent) And you thought it meant that parents were being driven crazy by their kids ... Regards, Jennifer Click here to subscribe for the next year: To unsubscribe from this list, send a blank email to: mailto:WritingTips-unsubscribe@yahoogroups.com or go to the web site, at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/WritingTips This menu will also let you change your subscription between digest and normal mode. |
|
Home
| Contact
| Order
| Site
Map |Subscribe
Copyright 200 |
