A dictionary for writers

I'm heading off for a night of tent camping with my kids this afternoon, and I have a lot of packing to do. Rounding up, actually. We're more 'rent a cabin' kinda people than 'campers' so what equipment I do have is scattered between the attic, garage and whatever nook it got crammed into. It's also my daughter's first time spending the night in a tent. Wish me luck.

Why didn't I work on that packing thing yesterday?

I spent the day composing and sending emails introducing the Young Writers Program to local schools. An email pitching NaNo's used book drive fundraiser was composed and sent to the middle school where I do the YWP. I met with the principal at the elementary school were I do the YWP and got her on board with the book drive. Writers Die kits were created and assembled. The last ten of the twenty plot bunnies was finished. Oh, and I worked.

Why the picture of the book if all I'm going to do is ramble about what I did yesterday? That's because, in light of yesterday's mental events, I didn't have a chance to dwell on a blog post. So today I will feature another selection from the NaNoWriMo raffle item stack.

Bryon's Dictionary for Writers and Editors sounded interesting so I picked it up to see what on earth set it apart from any other dictionary out there. Well, it holds the magical answers to all (or at least, many) of those things we overthink, misuse or wonder about.

Not your typical dictionary with dry explaination, this book lists people, places, and terms with explainations with clear examples. Commonly swapped words are listed together such as altar and alter, with their differences pointed out right there so it might actually stick with some of us. Poets, authors, plays, trademarked words. A smattering of French, German and Italian words. It's not all in here, but there's a good cross section to work with.

There's even a hint of humor. Such as this entry:
alright is never correct; make it all right.

The appendix includes:
-The proper usages of punctuation - with three pages devoted to the pesky comma.
-Abbreviations for major worldwide airports
-Conversions for distance and tempertature
-List of main units of currency

There is also a short glossary that covers grammatical terms such as verbs, predicates, participals, etc. It's the perfect, quick refresher for those of us who have been out of english class for more years that we'd like to admit.

On one hand, all of this information is available online thanks to the almighty power of google. On the other, I felt like I was actually learning something in reading through the dictionary, expanding my vocabulary, rather than doing a quick internet search for the proper spelling of a word I already knew. The dictionary section is only 370 pages, certainly no replacement Webster, but of a length I could sit down with and not feel overwhelmed reading through.

Along with the appendix and glossary, I'd say this makes a useful reference book for any writer.
Now I'm reconsidering its placement in the raffle stack. I just might keep this one.

The plot bunny invasion continues

Gracie, this one's for you. Granted, the moustache isn't in keeping with the challenge, but the bunny cried out for one. I lost count of how many times I burnt my finger on the hot glue making that hat. Oww!

In the midst of the churning out all my other NaNo items, I've managed to only give life to three plot bunnies a day. I'd fail as a mother rabbit. Good thing I'm not one. That hot glue gun would be hell on furry little feet.

Yesterday I was able to create and print my stickers for our region, and a set for each of the two schools that participate in the Young Writers Program. I made winner magnets for all three. (Optimistic aren't I?) I also made six t-shirts of various designs and nine posters.

A newly created set of four Guilt Monkey stickers will be raffled off this year at various events. I'll post those friday. They make me laugh and I hope they will do the same for you.

Without further ado, I give you the newest members of the 2010 Plot Bunny warren. I have about ten more to make so suggestions are still welcome.

Plot Bunnies

Along with changing a good deal of names in Trust due to some editorial feedback, my subconscious percolator has finally come up with a way to shave 14k off the word count and bring a good deal of scenes closer together to solve some other issues the novel was encountering. I have been working on it. Honest. But with NaNoWriMo lurking around the corner, my easily distracted mind is in overdrive.

In getting ready for this year's event, I've been working on new posters, t-shirts an a set of stickers based on plot bunnies. This led to checking out a crafy lead I remembered spotting last year: Cute easter bunnies. Easter? Noooo. Plot bunnies!

And so after a trip to the Dollar Tree, Big Lots and then Walmart to find the right kind of baby socks (really, I had no idea it was going to take an freakin hour to find a bulk pack of baby socks with a cuff! Not to mention there must have been a rush on back to school baby shopping because all the hooks, shelves and displays were all decimated.), a small portion of craft supply chaos invaded my living room.

The first few of my warren of plot bunnies came to life. I feel like I should be laughing evily here and milking the giant cow.*
Yes, I'm using buffalo snow for stuffing. It's the same darn thing that you buy for stuffing any other time of year, but after Christmas you can find it on ultra clearance.
Behold, the cute little bunnies. Cute, sure, but not quite there yet. They needed something else. So I went back and raided my craft pile. Mountain, really, but 'pile' makes me sound a little less obessed with crafty stuff, doesn't it? Maybe? Ok, humor me.
After some added flair, I present to you the first occupants of 2010's Plot Bunny warren.

Shh, don't tell my son that I raided his drawer of plastic weaponry left over from MIA action figures. It's a cool barbed sword and it even comes out of the little leather sheath I made for it for extra plot bunny fun!

Up next: the ninja, pirate and princess. Any other suggestions?



*from Heroics for Beginners. If you enjoy humorous fantasy, I highly recommend it.)

The editing knife strikes back

"Where the hell am I supposed to put those?" Nekar points to the planet-sized words floating down from my desk.

“Sorry. I had to make some changes in the star system.”

“Why? I liked those names.”

“Me too, but two editors didn’t, so I’m changing a few things.”

The character formerly known as Zsmed storms up to my desk. “A few?” He rips the nametag off his shirt. “I woke up this morning with this. Why in Geva’s name am I now called: Good-looking-cocky-fighter-pilot-that-once-slept-with-Ms-MC-and-was-violently-killed by-Mr-MC? Do you have any idea how much of a mouthful that is? Delilah ran out of breath when she yelled my name this morning and almost passed out.”

“You two arguing? I thought you were getting along.”

Good-looking-cocky-fighter-pilot-that-once-slept-with-Ms-MC-and-was-violently-killed by-Mr-MC scowls. “We weren’t arguing.”

“Oh. Oh! Right. You know, I created the lot of you, unless I’m writing the intimate scene, I really don’t want to hear about the details, ok? I’m glad you’re still getting along though.”

He taps a foot and cocks his head. "My name?"

"I had to give it away. I could give you the one I traded it for, but I'm confused enough as it is. You guys have all had the same names for years, this is going to take some getting used to."

“I don’t even know what race I am anymore!”

“Yes, well, I had to make some changes there too.”

“And what are you going to do about this then?” He waves the nametag in my face.

“I suggest you don’t ruin that. You’ll be needing it for awhile. You might also want to watch out for-“

Good-looking-cocky-fighter-pilot-that-once-slept-with-Ms-MC-and-was-violently-killed by-Mr-MC is swept off the desktop as another discarded planet’s name drifts downward. He yells and shakes his fist at me while clutching a giant B.

A strange stabbing sensation accosts my toes. “What the…” I peer under my desk.

Another character, his tattered clothing covered in dust, raises his knife for another blow.

“Stop that!”

He glares up at me. “I’ve killed an entire warren of killer dust bunnies, traversed the forest of cables and survived months in the dark darkness that transcends black behind your desk. And now I come back to this?” He points at his nametag. “Do you think you can tell me what to do?”

“Put the knife down! That hurts!”

“On one condition. I want a new name.”

“What, you don’t like: Bulky-short-haired-hot-tempered-violet-ex-partner-who-sold-out-Ms-MC-and-caused-her-serious-emotional-harm-before-she-hunted-him-down-and-killed-him?”

“How can you even read that from up there?” He examines the nametag. “This has got to be two point type to all fit on here.”

“I’m all-knowing, remember?”

“Is that so? I bet you didn’t know I was going to do this.” He pulls out a gun and aims it at me.

“No, but I do know that the gun is empty. Otherwise you would have shot me to begin with and not bothered with knifing my foot.”

Bulky-short-haired-hot-tempered-violet-ex-partner-who-sold-out-Ms-MC-and-caused-her-serious-emotional-harm-before-she-hunted-him-down-and-killed-him tosses the gun aside. “How do you know I would do that?”

I reach down and pat him on the dusty head. “It’s all in the name dear. Now go find some cover until the rest of the big changes hit the ground.”

A visitor from out of place

Hello there. My name is Kevin. I love those little berries that are on the russian olive trees this time of year. I love them so much that I found myself alone in the middle of a suburb with a plentiful russian olive population. The other stupid flocking turkeys that live in the area, don't know what they're missing.

Did you know that a group of turkeys is actually called a rafter? I bet not. Only turkeys called Kevin who use google know that.

You might be thinking Kevin is a silly name for a turkey, but the young girl who named me thought it was utterly approriate for some reason. I try my best to ignore her and her dog that wants to come out and say hello. At least I'm pretty sure that's what he's saying when he jumps up and down behind the picture window. It's hard to tell with all his whining.

For the past three mornings, I go to the big russian olive bush in the girl's front yard and scrounge for berries in the grass. When I eat all of those, I jump up and nip them off the branches. It's very good exercise, you know. But now, this girl, she comes out every darn morning, in the middle of my berry breakfast, with her backpack on and begging to have her picture taken with me.

No freakin way. I don't care how much distance is between me and her, it's not enough.

I run as fast as my long, meaty turkey legs will carry me into the safety of the neighbor's yard across the street, and then work my way into the backyard of the lady next to them and into the places only turkeys like me know to go to hide from camera happy little girls.

Can't a lonely turkey eat breakfast in peace?