Back away from the light.
Feb. 16th, 2007 11:41 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
All of yesterday was spent on the essay for Weird Tales, which was only supposed to be 800 words long, but came out at 1,628. I wrote the editor last night, and he says 1,600 is okay, too. All's well that ends. Well, I mean.
Today, a much tamer March begins. (though I yet struggle with the dregs of February). Still, I would call it forced, this march, as I certainly would not be doing it otherwise. But when the Forced March of January ended on the 31st, it had carried me within easyish sight of my goal. This is merely that part of the journey where the slopes of Mount Doom must finally be climbed, the part where the big ape scales the Empire State Building, where Roy Batty has to save that fool Deckard from tumbling off the Bradbury Building. Something like that. Someday, it will all make sense, maybe.
And just let me say that the day I am no longer permitted to write "self-indulgent" novels and short stories is the day when I shall cease writing altogether.
Some mornings, the blogging muscles just don't want to talk to the brain. This would be one of those mornings.
Last night, we watched Patrick Creadon's Wordplay, which I can honestly say was the most entertaining documentary about crossword-puzzle obsessed nerds I have ever seen. Then we watched Ace of Cakes, and then Spooky read aloud chapters 22-24 of The Terror, and then, still unable to sleep, I read Chapter 8 of In the Wake of Madness. The day was much too cold for walking, so I didn't leave the house.
There were some amusing comments day before yesterday to my remarks on the clunkiness of words relating to female genitalia. Let's review, shall we?
kiaduran writes: "my favorite term for the she-bits is 'twitchit' which I use often and to good effect."
stsisyphus writes: "I feel like gash is a perfectly acceptable synonym. It's moderately offensive, possesses gravity in conversation, and remains grounded in a very carnal immediacy. Like cock, I feel like gash suggests ownership, command, a certain aggressiveness.
shadowmeursault writes: "on the ever-commanding topic of genital slang, you may count me among those who fully agree with your preferences. 'cock' is a lovely word. i'm liking st. sisyphus's vote for 'gash,' and recently came across a text in which da Vinci is psychoanalyzed (poorly) that notes that 'bird' was at one time a euphemism for vagina. (apologies that i can't remember either the time period or the language that such a euphemism was used in.)"
And
setsuled writes: "I like snatch, for the sound and innuendo properties."
For some reason, snatch reminds me how "A Season of Broken Dolls," one of the pieces for Sirenia Digest, started life as a treatise on the vagina dentata concept, then went somewhere else entirely. Or maybe it only went full circle, and I'd see this, if only I looked over my shoulder...
Today, a much tamer March begins. (though I yet struggle with the dregs of February). Still, I would call it forced, this march, as I certainly would not be doing it otherwise. But when the Forced March of January ended on the 31st, it had carried me within easyish sight of my goal. This is merely that part of the journey where the slopes of Mount Doom must finally be climbed, the part where the big ape scales the Empire State Building, where Roy Batty has to save that fool Deckard from tumbling off the Bradbury Building. Something like that. Someday, it will all make sense, maybe.
And just let me say that the day I am no longer permitted to write "self-indulgent" novels and short stories is the day when I shall cease writing altogether.
Some mornings, the blogging muscles just don't want to talk to the brain. This would be one of those mornings.
Last night, we watched Patrick Creadon's Wordplay, which I can honestly say was the most entertaining documentary about crossword-puzzle obsessed nerds I have ever seen. Then we watched Ace of Cakes, and then Spooky read aloud chapters 22-24 of The Terror, and then, still unable to sleep, I read Chapter 8 of In the Wake of Madness. The day was much too cold for walking, so I didn't leave the house.
There were some amusing comments day before yesterday to my remarks on the clunkiness of words relating to female genitalia. Let's review, shall we?
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And
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For some reason, snatch reminds me how "A Season of Broken Dolls," one of the pieces for Sirenia Digest, started life as a treatise on the vagina dentata concept, then went somewhere else entirely. Or maybe it only went full circle, and I'd see this, if only I looked over my shoulder...
no subject
Date: 2007-02-16 05:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-16 06:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-17 12:24 am (UTC)I once read a Spanish book by Jong with some poetry, and it seemed quite good at times, but the dumb translator changed whatever word she used for "penis" with the Spanish slang "pito" which is way toooo comical (it also means "whistle" among other things) and killed the poetry for me.
no subject
Date: 2007-02-16 07:38 pm (UTC)Quite the coincidence that; I was going to continue my earlier post by noting that term has been used in relation to Nebari females. Gash, on the other hand, might be more typically applied to Luxans. Scarrans, lamentably, end up with slit.
Re: Female Genitalia Euphemisms
Date: 2007-02-16 08:57 pm (UTC)Re: Female Genitalia Euphemisms
Date: 2007-02-17 01:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-17 12:01 am (UTC)