Monday, September 2, 2013

Tortured and "Twitter"pated: Day 8: A New "Normal"

[This was the 8th and final day of my "Twitter updates" challenge. If you want to start at the beginning of the ordeal, go here:]

Gail Homer Berry

"But why'd a bug get in a tunnel in ow house? I don'BEEVE a bug comed in! A monstow bwoke da do' and da bug comed thwu. I don'wa'BEEVE dis!"

Gail Homer Berry (I saw a cockroach, screeched. Sam, out of bed (tsk!), asked how it got in, posited a monster scenario, and shouted "I don't BELIEVE this!")

Carolyn Homer Thomas I think you need to invite the monster exterminator back. (Ht: Brian)

Gail Homer Berry "Ht" Hint? Half time? Height? Haiti? Hats and tutus? High tide? Hot tomale? Histrionic turpitude? Drat, no more space. Hiatus/termination. (138)

Carolyn Homer Thomas hat tip. i.e. This was Brian's idea but I stole it.

I've hit my stride! I'm writing terse, cute odes.
Just ten. More. Hours. Pray I don't expl--

Comment: Okay, I just have to say that one was fun. Hehehe. And read “hours” as two syllables, “ow-ers.”

Jan Grambo I have to admit I am really enjoying these posts.
@ Jan: no, u shud say "It's fun,
But I'll b glad when this is done.
Pretend ur in my class, dEr GAl--
& ne'er chAnj speling mor. U'll FAL."


At Jan: no, you should say “It’s fun,
But I’ll be glad when this is done.
Pretend you’re in my class, dear Gail—
And ne’er change spelling more. You’ll FAIL.”


I felt like the rhythm was awkward in the first line. It works okay on a re-read, but I still stumble on it every time.

Also, I would normally say “Sister Grambo,” but there were obvious limitations here.

Tressa Winmill Mitchell I agree! Gail you should send these into a poetry magazine or maybe into a periodical that pubishes reader submissions? Maybe Reader's Digest, Saturday Evening Post, or The New Yorker?

Tressa Winmill Mitchell Could make a fun book, too!

Gail Homer Berry
@ Tressa--you are kind, but if I try,
I think "the stuf lIk this" would make 'em cry.


At Tressa—you are kind, but if I try,
I think “the stuff like this” would make ‘em cry.

Commentary: …and back to iambic pentameter. 10/10 and 8/6 are definitely my favorite meters; I just wish I had been more consistent.

Also, I don’t know if this is “publication” worthy or not, but I really appreciate your vote of confidence, Tressa!

Tressa Winmill Mitchell Well, if they are not too "literary" but are open to clever submissions, one might bite. You could consider your efforts this week as "practice" until you hit the right combination. Have you ever checked out the "Writer's Market" reference book? There are loads of mags out there you could take a shot at.

[All Hogwarts headmaster portraits rise in a standing ovation.]
[Boys start watching the 7th Harry Potter movie.]

Saleslady <3ed "Doorbell Doom" poem, begged 4 pic.
Dilemma: Jeff's mostly done w/naps but I want to keep it.
B dishonest? Have new baby?

Translation and context:

 An AT&T saleswoman came to my door this afternoon. She knocked, I answered, and she said "I love your poem. Where did you get it?"

"I wrote it," I smiled, and she lit up. "So you must be Gail!" she said, thus proving that she had actually read the entire thing. (Most solicitors seem to read the first verse, knock, and read a little more while waiting, but then never get back to it.)

"It's so good," she said. "I must have seen it somewhere..."

Now, figured she was trying for some flattery in the hopes of upping her sales, and I didn't take it too seriously, but it was nice. I can see why lobbying members of congress works, oh yes. I didn't buy what she was selling, but it does feel nice to be complimented, even when one suspects an ulterior motive. (Brandon Sanderson had a lovely analogy: something about how living on flattery is like eating only cheeseburgers--each fills you up enough that you don't notice what they're doing to your heart. Brilliant comparison.)

She wasn't pushy, though, and when she realized that I didn't carry a cable subscription, she immediately said, "Oh, well, I don't really have a competitive product for you, then. But it was nice to meet you. May I take a picture of the poem? I want to show it to the guys at the office. It's funny. And so much NICER than most of the signs I see..."

That made my day. I love positive reader feedback!

It also raises a dilemma, though. Jeff has mostly stopped napping. He keels over sometimes, but it's random.

I have been thinking about taking down the sign, which refers to "babies." I now have two toddlers, the younger of whom is about to turn two. [Whimper] If neither of them takes a regular nap, is it dishonest to leave the poem up?

I see three main options:

1. Be dishonest. Leave the sign up. Just because I LOVE it.
2. Take it down. Deal with the obnoxious doorbell again, instead of knocking. Grieve grumpily.
3. Have another baby. (There are obvious limits to how far I can take that strategy, though.)


Nicole Whelan The world could use some more super geniuses.

Gail Homer Berry @ NW:

My children r brilliant, it's true,
But if I had more in my crew,
I might go insane--
& pen bad refrains
4 pernicious poems on stew.

Commentary: After all those “formal” two-line couplets and four-line stanzas, I HAD to try at least one limerick. Don’t judge me. ;)

"Ten thousand years will give you such a crick in the neck."

For everyone wondering why all my status updates for the last week have been 1) short, 2) followed by numbers, like "(138)", 3) occasionally even "pAnful to rEd" (painful to read), and, 4) most mysteriously, filled with odd poetry, let me reassure you that the the torture is over.

[Gail sings "Glory, glory, HALLELUJAH...!"]

It was a challenge to keep all my updates down to "twitter-length" parameters. I have a longish, redundant, verbally dense reaction to the experience here:

It's fine if you skip the alphabetical listing of adjectives for my verbosity. Actually, it's fine if you skip the entire thing.

Let's just all rejoice that I'm back to--heh, heh--"normal," shall we?

(816. Pthpt!!!)

P. S. @ Brian:
44786 characters, 7297 words, 30-ish pages.

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