A Snow Poem, 1989

A few bits of context for when you find the errant homophone:  I was old enough (9) to know better, and this was something we did in the gifted program.  You can almost hear the laughter of glastnost-era Soviets. 

Whatever, because Roddy Piper was feuding with Rick Rude at the time and that consumed most of my attention. 

Excelsior

I wrote this the other day right after seeing the news about Stan Lee.  I was taking a break from working on a new short story:

Sitting here, working on some creative projects, counting my words, talking about gods and heroes, and just seeing the news that Stan Lee, the creative force behind so much American mythos, has gone into eternal rest and light. I am hard pressed to think of one other figure from the 20th century who has had a bigger impact on modern story-telling and myth-making. Excelsior, Stan Lee. Excelsior.

This Sentence Has Five Words (Practical Advice on Better Writing)

A good and very practical demonstration on what the ear wants from the late Gary Provost:


“This sentence has five words. Here are five more words. Five-word sentences are fine. But several together become monotonous. Listen to what is happening. The writing is getting boring. The sound of it drones. It’s like a stuck record. The ear demands some variety. Now listen. I vary the sentence length, and I create music. Music. The writing sings. It has a pleasant rhythm, a lilt, a harmony. I use short sentences. And I use sentences of medium length. And sometimes when I am certain the reader is rested, I will engage him with a sentence of considerable length, a sentence that burns with energy and builds with all the impetus of a crescendo, the roll of the drums, the crash of the cymbals–sounds that say listen to this, it is important.

So write with a combination of short, medium, and long sentences. Create a sound that pleases the reader’s ear. Don’t just write words. Write music.”