Filed under Entertainment

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.

Continue reading

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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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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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Kingkiller Nigreddo: Blue Fire

“When he awoke, Taborlin the Great found himself locked in a high tower. They had taken his sword and stripped him of his tools: key, coin, and candle were all gone. But that weren’t even the worst of it, you see…” Cob pause for effect, “cause the lamps on the wall were all burning blue!”

We pulled up a stool next to Old Cob, Graham, Jake and Shep and leaned in, waiting alongside the smith’s prentice.

“Do you know what that meant boy?”

The smith’s prentice nodded said the word.

“That’s right,” Cob said approvingly. “The Chandrian. Everyone knows that blue fire is one of their signs.”

Well we’ve made it a whopping half-page into the reread and landed on another alchemical prospect. Blue flames. Cold fire. The alchemical blaze. Flames colored the opposite color of flames. This comes up often in Kingkiller, too often to count since the Chandrian antagonize Kvothe more than anything or anyone else.

The alchemists called it “azure” – the bright sky blue of modern home decor and graphic design. This color saturated the alchemical water and mercurial fifth element so often that the sapphire became a HUGE symbol when Parcelsus brought it over from the Cabbala. Others like Thomas Vaughan thought the alchemical water held “a certain inexpressible Azure like the Body of Heaven in a Clear Day.” If the protagonist sports a blue shirt or other garb, it supposedly reveals the pouring of tincture on top of melted lead to transmute it into silver or gold.

Translation: When we see azure in heavy alchemy books, we learn the goals of the perfected protagonist. Continue reading

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For the Regulars

Hey Literators,

I want to shout out a quick “thank you” to your consistent reading and interaction on here. You may have noticed some small changes (as well as larger changes) over the past seven months. Based on your comments, survey answers and click-through, I’ve consistently tried to tweak this site.

Jim Collins calls it the “flywheel” – that giant stone people crank and crank and crrrrank until it gains momentum. At some point when that marble wheel starts spinning a billion miles a minute, people come up and ask, “What’s the one thing you did?”

There’s never one thing. There’s just consistency that pays off in the long run. Though it hasn’t paid off yet, I wanted to thank you for your consistency by showing you how your interaction grew over the last six months:

That’s us on the far right – January 31st 2012. We’re just a’gainin’ momentum here, my people, so I wanted to thank you long before any chance of this site getting any bigger.

You guys were the originals, and I’m grateful to you all. I raise my digital glass(es) to you and to whatever comes next.

♥,

Lancelot

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Of Toys and Instant Records

Back in the sixties, the Power Sales Company bought up cases of plastic-and-glass gadgets from The Great Wall Plastic Company in Hong Kong. At less than seventy bucks a gross, Power Sales could peddle them to US merchandisers for a cool fifty cents a pop. These retailers then hawked the toys at fairs, carnivals and anywhere else parents pay exorbitant prices for trinkets that cost pennies to make. This trinket was the Diana “toy” camera.

Before that, Russian company LOMO manufactured their two-lens Lubitel line. Built first of bakelite and then of plastic, many put it in the same class of devices as your average metal top or Hot Wheel. They called it a toy. However, the Lubitels use 120 film and, with a proper flash, can shoot at 1/250 shutter speed. These specs land the Lubitel nearer to the fifties movement of amateur TLRs rather than the toy or disposable genus.

Later in the eighties,
Lomographische AG (an Austrian firm) started production on the Diana and the Lomo LC-A. They coined the term “lomography,” dreamt up the motto Don’t think, Just Shoot and picked up the Chinese Holga, Seagull TLR and then the Russian Horizon 202. By the new millennium, the whole “toy camera” artistic movement hit puberty.

Certainly these cameras hold vintage value, like the trinkets you might find on Etsy, but their real appeal flows from the aesthetic of their pictures. Some of these cameras came with built-in vignettes – that shadow-box feel that big-city photographers crave. Other cameras were so poorly manufactured that light leaks in and spoils the edges of the pictures, creating that toasted feel. Still others use blurs and other distortions, intentionally or unintentionally, that draw a crowd weary of Photoshop and Illustrator. Continue reading

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Storyssentials: Protagonist

Ever watch a fat soprano shatter a wine glass with her voice?

It’s called resonant frequency – the pitch at which something vibrates. Everything has it – the table I’m typing on, the car keys hanging from my carribeaner and the engine block on my car that, judging by the smell of burning rubber, may or may not need a check up.

Friggin’ serpentine belts…

Vocal chords vibrate a column of air to its resonant frequency, allowing the sound to fill your mouth with song and then enter the world by leaving your sound hole. I wonder if musical mothers ever use that phrase in vain? “Shut your sound hole!” If the frequency exiting your sound hole matches the exact resonant frequency of, say, a glass? BUM-CHINSH go shards and wine all over your table.

The glass says “that sounds like me” and explodes in an emotional encounter. Protagonists are the songs we writers sing, the notes that resonate deep in the caverns of our readership’s soul. Each of us is a glass begging to find something that “sounds like me.”

Protagonists come good or bad, evil or righteous, living right or dead wrong. They can be rich or poor, powerful or weak, accepted or rejected. Regardless of looks, they must resonate. They must sound like us often enough that when their story finds the breaking point at climax, we too shatter. Analysts dub that phenomenon “catharsis” – our human desire to discharge emotion in one satisfying purge.

I offer four solid words to describe protagonists: volition, ambition, predisposition, qualification, and fortune. Continue reading

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