An Open Letter to WordPress

Dear WordPress,

In short, you rock.
The longer version goes like this:

I used to write on blogger and other sub par blogging platforms. One of my friends started a blog on WordPress back in ’08 and called out “red rover, red rover” but I refused to come over.

Then I started this little site (at that time under www.literating.wordpress.com) and over the course of a few months you courted me over to your side of the playground with your customizable dashboards, your superior statistics and your content-oriented approach to blogging. Good content ranks above anything and everything else here.

I thought it couldn’t get any better. Man I was wrong…

These last eighteen months you have continued to tweak our experience. You added the top bar for easy navigation. You added an insta-stat button (soon to redirect to the dashboard!), the follow button up top for registered users, down low for unregistered and in dashboard for blog authors and administrators. In addition, you created the notification flash in the top righthand corner. At first this only meant we’d know when someone commented or what have you, but NOW we can both see via icon what type of notification we’re receiving AND we can respond to comments on our blog or to those elusive follow-up comments on other blogs. You know, the comments that get lost on the threshing floor of content consumption.

Over all, you’re taking your already fantastic content-focus and adding the perks of social media sites. You keep integrating, networking and streamlining our production-oriented culture here, and I think that’s just grand. Short story long, these subtle tweaks have made WordPress an even better place to write, which, in my humble opinion, is truly saying something. Keep tweaking.

With love, kudos, hugs and kisses,

Lancey

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The Short Film and Serial Novel Comeback?

In the latter part of 1837, Charles Dickens published the first portion of a book that he would finish piece-by-piece in a magazine. He was twenty-five the year he ended each successive part on a cliffhanger. His audience waited, often jittery through half-contained excitement for the next issue. Bit-by-bit he orchestrated a novel whose last words greeted public eyes in 1838. They later compiled the book into the single volume we know as Oliver Twist. Commoners could afford the weekly installments while the aristocracy enjoyed complete volumes.

Sixty-four years after Oliver, Georges Méliès complimented his career as an illusionist with Le Voyage Dans La Lune. The innovation of Trip to the Moon shattered the time-boundary of two-minute shorts with its then stunning fourteen-minute runtime and later inspired Selznick to sketch Hugo. Granted, moving pictures eventually added enough film to keep an audience seated for a couple of hours plus intermission but there was enough room on the screen for short films all the way through Chaplin’s era. People paid a cheap price for several shorter films and then talked about them over ice-cream at the nearest diner. With the rise of the television, however, short films tapered off. Rising ticket prices made it unfeasible to go to short films. The industry exiled small-budget directors to festivals and college film classes. Feature films made the money. Good news for the average joe, bad for the struggling screenwriter.

In the late fifties, the paperback revolution made it cheap and easy to buy a full novel. Why pay for shorts or serials when you can get the whole thing for a dollar? Book production skyrocketed, despite the hollow warning from Publisher’s Weekly. The serial novel fell into… well… novelty. No, more than a novelty. Serials became a thing for antique road shows and pawn stars to get their grubby paws on. Good for the common man, bad for the struggling author.

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The Liebster Blog Award

Yesterday, I stumbled onto my “About” page and found out that one of our own, thoughtofvg, gifted me the Liebster Blog Award.

The award gets passed on to excelled bloggers with fewer than 200 followers to recognize their efforts  to a larger audience.

Like ‘thoghtofvg’ I too love the German language (as chanonyx might tell you) so to earn an award that originated in Germany tickles my proverbial Wernicke’s area.

That sounded dirty. What I meant was, the language center of my brain is grateful.

The rules:

  1. Thank your Liebster Blog Award presenter on your blog [check]
  2. Link back to the blogger who awarded you (for blends of thought and poetry, check out thoughtofvg) [checker check]
  3. Copy and paste the award on your blog [triple check]
  4. Present Liebster to 5 blogs of 200 followers or less who you feel deserve notoriety (see below) [quadruple check]
  5. Let ‘em know they have been chosen by leaving a comment at their blog [quintuple check] Continue reading
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The Thinker’s Thesaurus

We like words here, don’t we?

Chuh-huh… yeah! That’s why today’s fantastic point of ignorance goes out to all of you wordsmiths, literators, storyweavers and spelling bee champions out there. I asked for free stuff this Christmas, things like carols and cider and snow cones and oral stories involving hearts five sizes too small but my Grandma’s a gift giver like most of my family. She bought me a copy of The Thinker’s Thesaurus.

Touché, granny. Touché.

Here’s the thing, I’m a recovering academic. I root out ivory tower talk when it rears it’s out-of-touch head. I also doubt I’ll be publishing a story, a non-fiction feature or even a poem in the New Yorker any time soon. Though I’m an avid reader, they’d scoff at my work if it ever managed (against all odds) to land a manuscript on their desks. Because of these disqualifications, I find little practical use for such a book as The Thinker’s Thesaurus.

Don’t even care.

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Firefly: Power and Poise

Saturday, February 18th, I lost my Firefly virginity.

I waited right around seven years to do this – ever since I stepped onto the college scene and my newfound friends began badgering me to watch the show. I borrowed the series from a friend, sat down on my Saturday at 7:45am and watched the series straight until 9pm. Yes, I was that hooked. This show’s amazing, and I completely understand why Firefly fans beg so often, so long and so convincingly  about making a second season.

It’s like all of you told me all these years that there was gold in them there hills, but I blew you off because, let’s face it, there’s always gold in them there hills. But seven years later I walk over the tops of them there hills on the first open Saturday it crosses my mind and find out what you meant was “there’s gold on them there hills.” Lying around. In hunks and nuggets and bars. What you meant was “take a walk over this hill and pick up all the friggin’ gold you want, dummy.” That was Firefly for me, walking around and finding gold everywhere. That’s why I imbibed all of it in a single day: gold rush. Three things stood out to me: a lesson, an interpretation and a longing.

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Storyssentials: World Building

Ever look at one of these, these, these or these?

Fantasy writers perfect cartography. We have Tolkien to think for that, for he coined the phrase “cartographic writing” – writing from the map. You create the world, the mythology of the world and then you write with a character inside that world. Unfortunately, many fantasy writers focus so long on the what and the where that they neglect the who and the why questions. Good answers to these questions create great stories. Today, we turn to the fantasy writers to teach us about trade, authority, ceremony, and ethics.

Trade

What can your characters do to make a living? Awhile back on Twitter, I asked people to list out medieval professions. Piper, KarlMatt and I came up with the following list:

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Kingkiller Nigreddo: Wind

“So Taborlin fell, but he did not despair. For he knew the name of the wind, and so the wind obeyed him. It bore him to the ground as gently as a puff of thistledown and set him on his feet as soft as a mother’s kiss.”

Wind’s fairly important in this book. I could argue that it’s even more important in WMF, but that detours us from our goal (Remember, the “continue reading” is to protect Kingkiller virgins from spoilers).

Why wind? Why mention the control of wind and even inversion of wind? What’s wind to do with alchemy?

During sublimation, a vapor escapes the mercury. The alchemist must capture that vapor and through solution and distillation turn it into water. If you looked at the Emerald Table, you’d see the fourth law: “The wind carried it in its womb, the Earth is the nurse thereof.” Maier thought this means that sulphur (the masculine) is carried inside Mercury (the feminine) as the raw goods of the work. In the middle of sublimation and distillation, we see Hermes flying through the air like wind. Here’s Zoroaster’s Cave:

Our stone in the beginning is called water; when the body is dissolved, Ayre or Wind; when it tends to consolidation, then it is named earth, and when it is perfect and fist it is called Fire.

They also called that mercurial mist the zephyr, and it often symbolizes the white stone of the albedo. The Alchemist by Ben Jonson refers to Sublet’s puffer, Face, as billowing the flames. “That’s his fire-drake,/ His lungs, his Zephyrus, he that puffes [sic] his coals [sic].”

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Typewriter Short Shorts

Who wears short shorts?

Nair wears short shorts.

Actually I’m talking about a complete different pair of shorts today. Some of you work with churches to communicate truth in relevant ways. To help you out, Derek Hammeke and I cranked out a couple of illustrations on Sermon Spice. Find our profile under Flying Treasure. If these two videos do well on the site, we hope to increase the length and production quality of our future films.

Both of these humanize a typewriter that interacts with the audience. Tell me what you think…

They Have Punch

This short mirrors the message of the series I wrote for CIY. We compare God’s words to typewriter keys that instantly produce words.

Here’s two screenshots:

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Storyssentials: Antagonize

When I was young, my brother and I could get one another into trouble if we needed attention or if life bored us. My brother would steal stuff and hide it, I would give him wedgies or worse. I laugh now because I strive to lead a peaceful home, strive to keep my cool and strive to plant gentleness and joy and ultimately fun wherever I go. But that’s not always the case.

Unfortunately sometimes, just like then, I get bored or need attention or need to feel heard or ache for respect and honor. When I was a kid, I’d give my little brother a wedgie or hide a bag full of his year-old Halloween candy and call it good. Mom’s response?

Quit antagonizing your brother!

She meant, “Quit escalating things, Lance. Quit stirring crap up. Quit harassing him – especially since the tone of our household was peaceful/fun/creative/controlled/kind a moment ago. Antagonism escalates things at home, in interpersonal conversation, in the world and basically everywhere else. But what antagonism achieves is integrity. I’m using “integrity” broader than normal. Normally I mean  integrated, whole, uncompromising, good. For the characters in your novel I mean consistent. The framework. Integrity, for our purposes here, means what lies at the core. Want to see consistently what kind of man I am? Look at what I chose to do when my brother or best friend or wife or father or school antagonized me and opposed what I wanted most. That’s the measure of my integrity – my choices when faced with antagonism.

Your protagonist is only as good as your antagonist.

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Kingkiller Nigreddo: He said to the stone, “Break!”

Further into our first Taborlin the Great story, we see Taborlin trapped in a windowless stone cell. Nevermind that the cell evokes images of coffins and tombstones (more Nigreddo death-to-the-old-life imagery), we’re interested in the magic!

But Taborlin knew the names of all things, and so all things were his to command. He said to the stone ‘Break!’ and the stone broke. The wall tore like a piece of paper, and through that hole Taborlin could see the sky and breath the sweet spring air.

In alchemy “stone” as a singular entity refers to the philosopher’s stone the vessel or protagonist transforming from common to holy or lead to gold. A “stone” is a prima materia that has gained the Midas touch and provides the aqua de vida.

But we’re not talking about a stone but stone as an element. Taborlin knew the name of the element “stone” and could control it… as in the title The Name of the Wind. For Lindy’s advice on the matter, we need his “rock” entry. Rock stores the prima materia - the philosopher’s stone. Robert Fludd named the stone “a spirituall [sic] rock of pure transparent saphir [sic].

Translation: the rock holds the good stuff. Continue reading

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Recent Gigs

Back when “The Writing Gig” banded together every week, we shared small victories and portfolios. Since November, we started sharing on our own personal sites.

I bring three projects to show-and-tell today: a completed one, an in-progress one and a future one (or ones).

The Word Animation

MD Neely and Johnny Scott of CIY hired me to write narrations for four short episodes tracing the history of Scripture as they understand it. Their faith-based non-profit hosts conferences for youth trying to enrich their lives and move them to care for their communities.

I wrote the following for their Jr. High conferences that go by the name “Believe”:

Used with permission from MD Neely of Christ in Youth
per contract line with Johnny Scott: “Author retains the right
to use this material in his personal portfolio compilations.” Continue reading

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Ask the Experts: Gymnast

At eight I asked my father if I could bench press, but he refused. “Not till you’re thirteen. Your bones gotta develop.” But I was eight and a bony eight at that. I grew slower than my peers with little to show for my weaknesses. I’ve wondered if no form of vigorous exercise existed for children…

Similar weakness might have come for Paul Comstedt had he rejected gymnastics at age four. He grew up in Airborne Gymnastics and Dance in Colorado, a gym boasting twelve-hundred athletes and twenty-five thousand square feet. (Average gyms use nine-thousand square feet). Infused with jazz, hip-hop and ballet (technique class), Paul prepared to brave the Midwest Regional Ballet later in life. They asked him to take the lead of Swan Lake this summer.

Paul managed his first girl’s gymnastics team in high school, a gig for spotting and coaching. He yearned to work with youth and considered counseling. Gymnastics facilitated mentoring relationships distinct from other crafts, requiring deep trust and time commitment from the athlete. Many gymnastics coaches train the same athlete from age four to eighteen, and if the athletes chooses to work for that coach, their relationship crests twenty years. Add coach intentionality plus perfect full-body training to the mix, and gymnasts mature faster. There’s a reason USA Gymnastics says Begin here, go anywhere. Before he was twenty, Paul knew his path. Continue reading

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Storyssentials: Emotional Structure

Our stories breed three species of emotion.

These three species unearth the temperament of our stories and life perspective as we write. One species, the Cynic, rides the downward trend of the world. The Cynic sees everything ending stoic and stark. Another, the Visionary, envisions an uphill battle. There’s a hill to charge. Once we take it and stand on top, we shall all be kings. The last species, the Paradoxical, trusts neither in hope nor revels in despair but meditates on the fascinating contradiction called “life.” He thinks you can get your true love, but only if you die for her. You might achieve success in the financial world, but only after you sell your soul. You could earn honor for your family by submitting yourself to public disgrace.

These three species (The Cynic, The Visionary, The Paradoxical) influence every realm of story: novels, screenplays, plays, documentaries, old radio, commercials, TV series, the miniseries and narrative performance art. They “prove” their ideas through subtle swelling swings in emotion:

Whatever drives your current work, whatever thought you aspire to smuggle into your audience’s mind, start on the opposite end of the emotional spectrum. Your story will swing wider and deeper, back and forth between the positive and negative ends of your story spectrum until climax. Some stories end up, some end down and some end with the bittersweetness of real life – both beautiful and grotesque, wonderful and awful. Continue reading

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Rarer Books

Started selling pre-loved books. Yuppers.

Some of them are rare, like the EARLY printing of volume one of the Hardy Boys series or the buns-old copy of Kipling’s Wee Willie Winkie or the hilariously titled When a Man’s a Man (to which I started to add “danggit!” in bold sharpie until I realized that’d take about $200 off the value of the book).

For those of you that like reading or that want to show support, you can purchase thusly. That’s right, thusly.

  1. Click.
  2. When A–>Z window opens, click on the “1 available” link or look for “Roundtable Books” in the seller list.
  3. Show me the money. Seriously, just take a picture of it and send it to Amazon, I’m sure they’ll accept it.
  4. I’ll ship it to you with smiley faces and packing peanuts (my other fave).

Instead of ranting and raving about how I get to sell the coolest friggin’ old books, I’ll let you go on one rabid clicking frenzy:

Make Disciples A History of the Church from Pentecost to Present  The Sinister Sign Post (Hardy Boys Series #15) 
The Short-Wave Mystery (Hardy Boys, Book 24)  The Clue of the Broken Blade (Hardy Boys, Book 21)  The calling of Dan Matthews
The Winning of Barbara Worth by Harold Bell Wright Hardback 1911  A Son of His Father / by Harold Bell Wright  The House on the Cliff (Hardy Boys, Book 2)  Continue reading
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