1. THERE IS A CERTAIN COMPULSION to the act of writing: an unscratchable itch that won’t let the fingers refrain from their fruitless but busy task, whether on paper or keyboard.
2. To ask writers “Why do you write?” is to confess an ignorance of this basic graphomanic drive. One writes because one can’t not write, just as one breathes because one can’t not breathe. It is a function of having a particular sort of bodily structure, of brain or lungs or soul. Just as creating is joyful — physically pleasurable — refraining from creativity can be quite painful. Continue reading “5 Thoughts: The Grand Old Process”
1. ONE OF THE CHICKEN-OR-egg challenges of modern media (social and traditional) is their pervasive sense of nonlinear immediacy, by which I mean the everything-at-once flattening of the artistic landscape. Continue reading “5 Thoughts: Seminal v. Derivative”
Prosatio Silban in his galleywagon / Illo (c) 2008 Alana Dill, http://youbecomeart.com Click to enlarge.O Fellow Connoisseurs of Mythic Fiction (and Gastronomy), please: Lend me your eyes.
For many years now, I have been writing occasional fantasy tales about Prosatio Silban: a self-defrocked holyman turned mercenary cook in a far-off land containing a vast and disparate multitude of ancient and oft-commingled peoples, creatures, exiles, cultures, prophecies, landscapes, and cuisines. They vary in length from one-half to ten-and-a-half printed pages, with most ranging between three and five.
I enjoy writing them (“Do it for the buzz,” quoth Stephen King). I also enjoy having people read them. Thus, should the Universe so allow, I will here publish one every Thursday morning until further notice. (If you like what you read, you may also want the preface and introduction, as well as every story published up to now [plus ancillaries].) The subscription box at upper-left (or, if you’re on a tablet or phone, the box way below) will enable you to receive them via email as they become available. (Or, should you want 85 of them in one place (plus ancillaries!), may I suggest the e-book?)
Please enjoy. And if you’re so inclined — kindly spread the word.
AND SO THE CIRCLE TURNS again, one more orbit of the Earth ’round the Sun; meaning it’s time for the media’s year-end lookbacks — a conceit from which The Metaphorager is not immune. As of this writing (two weeks ago), and according to WordPress’ built-in stats counter, here are our Top Posts of 2019 (with year of composition and page views):
Letter To A Dead Friend (2010) – 62 Views
Googling “letter to a dead friend” brings up many, many, MANY links. Must be a universal impulse. Mine was addressed to my dearly departed chaver, James “Sputnik” Gjerde: mystic, clown, psychic twin.
SERIOUSLY ASK YOURSELF THIS QUESTION: “Who (and what) profits from pitting one generation of progressives so viciously and stereotypingly against another?”
IT’S HARD TO STAND OUT from the billions of people using social media — but you can do it in a small way, at least among friends.
I’m speaking as a self-appointed Facebook Questioner, posing queries every Monday through Friday mornings. The questions are widely varied, e.g., “What is your language of love?” “What are you listening to?” “How would you accessorize your personal action figure?” “What qualities do you (try to) cultivate?” “Dubbing or subtitles?” “What’s your instant-relaxation strategy?” Continue reading “Ask Me Another”
WHEN MRS. BOISVERT TOLD ME in ninth-grade English class that I had the soul of a poet, I grimaced.
“I want to be a scientist,” I said.
She had no answer to that. But she had answers to lots of other things: the importance of Shakespeare, how to compose a good headline, and to write both tightly and brightly. And always to show. Never tell.
IT’S THE WAY HE BLOWS my mind. It’s the way he mixes conviction with doubt. It’s his searingly funny prose. It’s his search for Ultimate Relativity. It’s that he taught me some important Latin phrases, like “Cui bono?” and “Non illegitimati carborundum” (look ’em up). It’s how he manages to make everything he writes sound like a personal communication to the reader. It’s the little phrase-gems he drops off-handedly like “reality-tunnel,” “domesticated primates,” or “guerrilla ontology.” It’s his nimble skipping from neuroscience to neuropoetry to neuroanalysis to neuropolitics. (It’s also that “neuro-” is his favorite prefix.) Continue reading “Why I Love: Robert Anton Wilson”
