Tag: self-publishing

  • Bad Spellers Untie

    Bad Spellers Untie

    The first time I saw this slogan on a T-shirt in a Signals catalog (not that I’m promoting Signals…not that I’m not promoting Signals…I’m just saying), I liked it because on the spelling continuum I fall somewhere in the dead middle—not the world’s best speller, not the world’s worst speller. To put it mildly, I’m in no danger of winning any spelling bees. I’m not proud of that. Once again, I’m just saying.

    In fifth grade, I was the class champion when it came to state capitals. (I might be a little proud of that.) I was the speed locater of states on our pull-down map in the front of the classroom. But stand me up in front of people and ask me to spell out loud I’m more than likely going to choke. “I before E except after C…” Except that that’s not entirely true. So many rules, so many exceptions to the rules. Things aren’t always what they sound like. Good grief! (Or is it “greif”? Just kidding. I know!)

    Watch this hilarious clip from the Tony Awards (at least through 2:44)

    Can You Raed This?

    A long while ago, a friend sent me an e-mail that asked the question, “Can You Raed This?” and claimed that according to a “study” at “Cmabrigde Uinervtisy” it has been determined that the order of letters in a word is unimportant as long as you get the first and last letter correct. It had something to do with how we don’t look at every single letter when reading a word, but at the word as a whole.

    As an average/bad/not great speller, this notion sounded good to me. Unfortunately, it turns out that the email was spurious, untrue, an urban myth. The order of letters in a word is important after all. Too bad.

    Untie, Untie, Untie!

    Jane Austen (1775-1817) on engraving from 1873. English novelist. Engraved by unknown artist and published in ”Portrait Gallery of Eminent Men and Women with Biographies”,USA,1873.

    However, something that did give me hope was raeding, urm, reading a little book called Love and Freindship [sic], a pretty hilarious tale in which a teenage Jane Austen basically makes fun of the romantic novels that were popular in her day. The book contains misspelled words, 1 and I find it encouraging to note that Jane wasn’t all that fastidious about the order of letters in every single little word; she was too concerned about the order of the words themselves.

    If only Jane had reminded herself that friend is spelled friend because a true friend is loyal to the end….

    The bottom line is, I love words, but I’m not a huge fan of spelling. Neither was Jane Austen. That’s what editors are for.

    Which brings me to the crux of the matter. Could it be that, as a writer, I feel that details like spelling are too nuts and bolts and get in the way of the creative flow? I hope not. Because no matter how amazing your words are, if no one can decipher them or if they have to spend too much time deciphering them, your writing is not going to bring anyone any pleasure. And while the idea of a fourteen-year-old bad speller who grew up to be Jane Austen is quaint, the idea of me sending you poorly spelled emails is not.

    Of course, as a self-published author, one must pay attention to things like spelling and such. One must grow up, just like Jane Austen went from Love and Freindship to Pride and Prejudice….

    Note: The story Love and Freindship has nothing in common with the 2016 movie Love & Friendship. That movie is based on Jane’s novel Lady Susan.

    In the story Love and Freindship, teenage Jane Austen writes: 

    “One fatal swoon has cost me my Life… Beware of swoons Dear Laura…. A frenzy fit is not one quarter so pernicious; it is an exercise to the Body and if not too violent, is I dare say conducive to Health in its consequences—Run mad as often as you chuse; but do not faint—”

    Wise words indeed, even if some of them are spelled rather creatively.

    1. The misspellings may have been intentional considering that Jane was an unparalleled satirist, even as a teen, apparently. Additionally, some of the words like “chuse” were accepted variants in her day. ↩︎
  • Pigeonholed

    Pigeonholed

    My Pandemic Project

    I have a question for you. How did you spend your time during the pandemic?

    If you’re like me, I’m sure you had lots of big plans that didn’t exactly come to fruition. I won’t take you down my list of failed endeavors (…the hiking that didn’t happen, the sourdough bread that didn’t rise…) but I did manage to do a whole lot of binge-watching (does watching Endeavour count as a successful endeavor?) and a lot of bird-watching.

    If you’re picturing me crouching in a park with a pair of binoculars, a field guide, and khakis, let me stop you right there. I did some of my best bird-watching from the driver’s seat of my car. Since so many people (at least at the start of the pandemic) were working from home, traffic on my usually insane commute was practically nonexistent, so I had a lot more time to reflect on different things as I drove to work. The things that tended to catch my eye more than anything else were the city’s pigeons.

    More than just catch my eye, though, they really captured my imagination. I thought back to a friend of mine who had moved to California from New York and used to contemptuously call them “rats with wings.” I always thought that was unfair and a little harsh. The more I watched them and thought about them, the more an idea began to reveal itself to me. Was it a Great Idea? You’ll have to ask Walter Pigeon. What I know for sure is that it became a book.

    Here’s how I describe it: Walter Pigeon is concerned about the bad rap he and his fellow pigeons have received and is determined to do something about it. A humorous and heartfelt satire about thinking outside the box.

    Here’s what other people are saying about it…

    “Clever and humorously imaginative, with embedded words of wisdom.”—Kirkus Reviews

    And if you care to check it out, it’s available on Amazon.

    As always, thanks for stopping by. I really do appreciate it.

  • A Writer Writes…Always

    A Writer Writes…Always

    “A writer writes always” is something Larry, a character in Throw Momma From the Train, tells his creative writing students

    (Disclaimer: in the interest of complete transparency, now would be a good time to admit that I remember most of the lines from Throw Momma From the Train. What can I say? I like—in no particular order—1. movies about writers, 2. Billy Crystal, 3. Danny DeVito, and 4. twisted re-makes of Hitchcock films.*)

    I suppose the line resonated with me because I have always considered myself a writer, and because the line happens to be true. A writer does write…always. You can’t stop it, it just happens. Sort of like Kevin James’ dance moves in Hitch.

    I write because when I was a little girl, my mother took me to the library on a day that a famous children’s book writer was having a meet and greet. “Go on, talk to him,” she nudged, but being shy, I was content to watch from a comfortable distance. Still, that day I learned that writers were regular people. If I hadn’t seen him, it would have taken quite a bit of effort to convince me that books were written and didn’t just exist, like facts.

    I write because in junior high, after having consumed every book in the house, my mother showed me her black binder that looked ancient to me because she’d had it since college. “It’s a book I was going to write,” she told me, and I read it. My mother wrote stories, submitted them, and was never published.  So, I decided to continue her tradition.

    When I was seventeen something extraordinarily ordinary happened to me and sparked an idea that became a novel. I typed it up and sent it to agents and editors and anyone whose address I could find.  And it came back, again and again…and again. It didn’t happen the way I would have written it, but nothing ever does.

    Finally, an agent wrote back with the words I’d dreamed of hearing: “Your novel has the potential to be a best seller.” All it needed, she assured me, was a final edit by a professional, and she knew just the guy. You can probably guess the rest of that story—it’s been written before. But the point of my version is that I was young, hopeful, and ultimately crushed.

    After that fiasco, writing didn’t hold the same allure it once had. I felt like throwing in the towel, switching to some other career that was less gut-wrenching/disappointing. So, I stopped writing. I stopped sending out my unsolicited manuscripts. I stopped reading magazines about writing. I stopped dreaming. But I couldn’t stop the stories. Eventually, I knew something better than I knew lines from Throw Momma from the Train: A writer doesn’t write for publication. A writer isn’t a writer because she is published. A writer writes, always. End of story.

    Maxwell Parker, P.I. 3D cover 2022

    *After watching Throw Momma From the Train (as an impressionable young girl), I had to see the original movie…Strangers on a Train. I regret to report that this led to a life-long addiction to** Hitchcock movies. A similar fascination with Hitchcock is what inspires my protagonist Maxwell Parker to suspect her new neighbor of murder in Maxwell Parker, P.I. The lesson? You never know what will happen when you introduce Hitchcock to a preteen with an over-active imagination!

    **”a life-long addiction to” may be too strong a choice of words. Maybe “an extreme liking of” would be better. Because I can quit anytime. Really…I can…

    • What about you…why do you write?