↓
 

Writer Zen Garden

A Quiet Corner of the Zen Garden

WZG header bonsai version
  • Home
  • Get Writer Zen Garden in Your Inbox
<< 1 2 … 66 67 68 69 70 … 74 75 >>

Post navigation

← Older posts
Newer posts →

Things Not Generally Known – 1859

Writer Zen Garden Posted on June 27, 2008 by a.catherine.noonJune 27, 2008

This little book printed in 1859 is an interesting collection of historical and social facts, very pertinent to the times in which it was written. I thought it might be fun to take a look at how they wrote, seeing as we are into writing. Life was so amazingly different over 200 years ago, thoughts, attitudes, manners, inventions, science and medicine are absolutely nothing like today. I randomly chose snippets of information to compare with today’s grammar, spelling and punctuation.

 Wearing the Watch.

The Wearing of a Watch was, till late times, considered in some degree as a mark and proof of gentility; though the invention may be traced back to the 14th century. Watches were even worn ostentatiously hung round the neck to a chain; which fashion has been revived in female dress.

• I didn’t know the watch dated back to the 14th century.

 The Paschal Light.

This was an enormously thick wax-candle, which was lighted on the morning of Easter Day; the wax itself being curiously adorned with grains of incense, and inscribed with the epact, dominical letter, &c.; also the names of the reigning pope, king, and bishop of the diocese, and the date of the consecration of the church.-Hart’s Ecclesiastical Records, &c.

 The Dinner Hour.

The proper Hour for Dinner is laid down by Thomas Cogan, a physician, in a book entitled the Haven of Health, printed in 1584, as follows:
When foure hours bee past after breakfast, a man may safely take his dinner; and the most Convenient time for dinner is about eleven of the clocke before noone. The usuall time for dinner in the universities is at eleven, or elsewhere about noon.

 Juniper.

It was formerly supposed that the wood of Juniper, when once lighted, would remain on fire a whole year if covered with its own ashes. Hence Ben Johnson, in the Alchemist, talk s of the “coal of juniper,” which the tobacconist kept for his customers to light their pipes from.-Nares’s Glossary.

 The Days of the Week.

Ancient deeds are frequently dated the day of the week on which there were executed, e.g. Die Jovis, Die Mercurii, &c.; each day being dedicated to a heathen deity , as follows:

• Dies Solis………………..Sunday
• Dies Lunae……………..Monday
• Dies Martis…………….Tuesday
• Dies Mercurii…………Wednesday
• Dies Jovis……………..Thursday
• Dies Veneris…………Friday
• Dies Saturni………….Saturday

In some ancient deeds we find the equivalent terms Dies Dominica for Sunday, and Dies Sabbati for Saturday.

These Latin designations are also generally used in entries in the account-books of surgeons and apothecaries.

 March-Pane.

This, one of the glories of olden confectionery, is a sweet biscuit, composed of sugar and almonds, like those now called macaroons. It is also called massepain in some old books. The word March-pane exists, with little variation, in almost all the European languages; yet the derivation of it is uncertain. In the Latin of the Middle Ages, March-panes were called Martiipanes.

• In Australia this same sweet is called Marzipan, still made with sugar and almonds hundred of years later. Do you have this sweet in the U.S.? Does it have the same name and do you use it underneath the hard white icing on Wedding cakes?

 How To Avoid Sleepless Nights.

Mr. A. J. Ellis has announced to the Scottish Curative Mesmeric Association, that persons wishing to avoid sleepless nights should lie with their heads to the north, and not on any account lie with their heads to the west.

• I added this for my friend’s who suffer from insomnia. This may be valuable advice. Turn you bed around and see if you sleep better; let us all know if it works.

The language in this book is old fashioned, and the spelling is giving my Word Document software a fit with all the different spellings, there are little red squiggly lines littered all over the page. That alone makes this book very interesting, as the changes in the English language over hundreds of years are immense. The differences in punctuation are also quite remarkable. I wonder if the American form of English has changed so much in the last 200 years? I am interested to know how much it has changed and in what ways.

The example of English from the year 1584 reminds us that language is always evolving, changing to suit the times. It is interesting how language models itself around new inventions, scientific developments, economic and business prosperity and of course the social changes that are constantly occurring in our world.

Old books contain information that allows us to look back into a world we will never see again. I believe they give us much better insight into the past than modern day historians. We can never go back to living in those times, but we do write about them and original books of factual information are invaluable to us as writers.

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged Reference, Writing

Just Getting Started is the Hardest Part

Writer Zen Garden Posted on June 25, 2008 by a.catherine.noonJune 25, 2008

Well, it’s official. I am a triathlete. Two days ago I competed in the US Women’s Triathlon Series race in Illinois, and all in all, I had a wonderful experience. I’m not very fast, and I was racing with an injury, so I finished in the last third of the competitors. But I got something far more valuable than a win, I gained a great new perspective.

Everyone I’ve talked to in the past two days has congratulated me on finishing the triathlon, and even as I planned and trained for the race, finishing was my only goal. But Sunday morning, I learned that finishing isn’t really the hardest part of the race. Starting is. That morning, every possible excuse for not starting the race was running through my mind. I had an injury, my son was sick, the weather might not cooperate, and my stomach was upset. I had a million reasons why I didn’t want to start, and I know that no one would have blamed me if I backed out at the last minute. But I wasn’t doing this for anyone else, I was doing it for me.

I pushed all those excuses out of my mind, and I started the race. Once I got going, it was just a matter of doing what I had trained to do. Two hours later, I had done it. Finishing wasn’t nearly as hard as starting was.

So why am I blogging about this on the Writer’s Retreat? What does this have to do with writing? Well, for me this was an interesting revelation. I always tend to focus on the importance of finishing. If I don’t think I’ll be able to complete something, I tend to talk myself out of even trying. This has certainly always been true when I write and for that reason, I rarely start any writing projects. The problem with that theory, is that since I’m not starting, I have no chance whatsoever to finish anything.

So, I’m going to try to take this lesson from the triathlon and apply it to the other aspects of my life, especially writing. I need to shift my focus away from the all the reasons why I can’t do something and reward myself when I have the courage and determination to start projects that might be difficult to complete. After all, starting is the hardest part.

Posted in Uncategorized

The Manuscript Graveyard

Writer Zen Garden Posted on June 23, 2008 by a.catherine.noonJune 23, 2008
My last post must have been a tad over the top, so in an effort to keep this blog rolling and not get it bogged down with the nonsense in my brain, this one is short and sweet.

Does anyone else fear the manuscript graveyard, or is it just me?

If you boil the journey to publication down to it’s barest bones, here’s how it goes: write, submit, repeat.

Simple, right?

Except . . . what happens when you get beyond that step? What do you do when one of your submissions comes back to you with a rejection letter (it DOES happen). Or worse, you get nothing back at all? It just got lost in the vacume of editor-space and the ghost is hovering on your hard drive . . .

How do you keep writing, keep submitting, keep repeating when the corpses of rejected stories keep piling up?

I mean, how sad is the thought that you just keep writing, pouring your blood, sweat and tears into these words, these bytes of consciousness, and they just come back to you to be buried?

Pretty fricking depressing, if you ask me. And my graveyard is growing . . .

So, I thought to myself, ‘this simply won’t do’.

Time to kick over those headstones, those mental blocks that tell me the story is pathetic and will never be published, and breathe some life back into these manuscripts.

If you’re thinking ‘I don’t want to spend time nursing a rejected story back to life, I just want to make the next one better’, trust me, I’m with you. BUT, there’s no reason that a little effort here and there won’t eventually cycle one of your older stories into the right hands, or effect just the right change to bring it back to life. Right? As writers, we have to have faith that we have something to say – something worth reading. Not everything will be our best, but it’s all worthwhile.

I haven’t tested this theory, but here is my plan:

In simple, baby steps, I’m going to convert my graveyard into a garden.

Now, a garden needs tending – pruning, weeding, watering – you get the idea.

The steps:

1. Open up your ‘dead’ manuscript and read it through once – not with an editing eye, but with a reader’s eye. Ask yourself – do you still enjoy this story? If you have no idea what you were on about, or you just cringe – it might be a weed. We’re all sure to have a few of those. Put it in a ‘weeds’ folder and move on. DO NOT beat yourself up about it.

2. If you enjoy the story, if you still feel it – maybe it just needs pruning or watering. And by that I mean – does it drag, or is it incomplete? Can you trim it down (FYI – the answer is yes – you can always trim it down) and make your message/theme clearer? Or, does it really beg for a deeper explanation? Pay attention to the feedback you’ve received on it, if any, and try to be objective. Design a designator, like P for pruning, or W for watering, or just move the files into their prospective folders.

3. For each of the non-weeds, come up with at least 3 places where you could possibly ‘plant’ the story after its revision. There are TONS of possible homes out there, and if you’re actively submitting, you know where they are. 😉

4. Commit some time to your good seeds. Prune, water. Do what you have to do. Don’t drop everything you’re doing, but get it rolling in the background at a reasonable rate – one piece a month, or whatever works for you.

5. Get them out there! You’re garden won’t grow if you never plant it! Again, find a comfortable rate and stick to it. If you’re going to have one or two or ten submissions out there at a time, do it. Don’t let those corpses pile up. Keep revising, keep submitting. Keep tending your garden.

And keep the faith that your sunshine is just around the corner!

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged Motivation, Writing

Just call me Will

Writer Zen Garden Posted on June 23, 2008 by a.catherine.noonJune 23, 2008

(Dang times one hundred.)

You’re The Sound and the Fury!
by William Faulkner

Strong-willed but deeply confused, you are trying to come to grips with a major crisis in your life. You can see many different perspectives on the issue, but you’re mostly overwhelmed with despair at what you’ve lost. People often have a hard time understanding you, but they have some vague sense that you must be brilliant anyway. Ultimately, you signify nothing.

What book are you?

Take the Book Quiz at the Blue Pyramid.

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged Quizes

The Night Is A Harsh Mistress, Chapter 7

Writer Zen Garden Posted on June 18, 2008 by a.catherine.noonJune 18, 2008

The Night Is A Harsh Mistress
Chapter 7

by A. Catherine Noon

The Valet Captain shooed her away from the main valet line and had her pull up around the block at a discreet waiting lot, in sight of the front door but out of the way of clients alighting from the valet line. Rachel smirked. It figured that there was some fancy way to divide the rich from the not-so-rich. She wondered if it were déclassé to have someone waiting for you. After about fifteen minutes, when a midnight-blue Mercedes pulled in behind her, she realized that this wasn’t the equivalent of the servant’s quarters.

Her quarry emerged from the Spa, fresh-faced and coiffed. Her nails flashed fire at the sun and Rachel suppressed a surge of jealousy. The woman looked entirely relaxed and composed, as opposed to Rachel, who suddenly felt wrinkled and used up. Rachel fished in her purse for a cigarette, hoping one had fallen out of the pack, but no luck. She sighed, resolving to go to the bank and deposit her check in person, so she could withdraw a twenty and go purchase another pack.

Mrs. Dawson waited for all of five minutes for the Valet to retrieve her red Audi, and then folded her long legs into the driver’s seat and took off. Rachel scrambled to keep up without being obvious, cutting off several cars in the process. Mrs. Dawson almost clipped a bicyclist and Rachel concluded she either didn’t know how to drive, or just didn’t care.

Rachel bet on the latter.

They rode through several busy streets and then came to a quieter section of town. Mrs. Dawson pulled up in the parking lot of a quiet little restaurant called simply, “Mario’s.”

Rachel knew for a fact the place didn’t open until dinner.

Rachel pulled up on the street a half a block down and waited. Mrs. Dawson floated delicately inside, the Maitre’d holding the door open for her and glancing up and down the street before he shut and locked it. Rachel itched to get out and explore but something made her stay put. After maybe a half hour of nothing happening, she stretched and glanced to her left.

She only just caught it: on the second floor facing the street, the curtain twitched. Rachel watched a moment or two longer and then took out her mobile phone just to make a show of calling someone, even though she didn’t actually dial. Rachel looked at her watch impatiently, and peeked under her lashes at the window.

Just between the gap in the curtains she could make out the gleam of a face. She couldn’t see anything clearly other than the cheekbone, but whoever it was watched the street. As Mrs. Dawson exited, the unknown watcher leaned close to the glass.

It was a woman! Rachel blinked in surprise and eased back a bit so her own eyes were hidden by her car’s window frame, just enough so she could see the woman’s chin. Her eyes, in that brief glimpse, gleamed clear blue, and she wore minimal makeup. Her lips glowed an angry red, pressed together disapprovingly. They watched until Mrs. Dawson pulled away.

Rachel sighed and let her go. The strange woman glanced at Rachel and raked her gaze across the car from the headlines to the trunk. Rachel pulled out her mobile again and made a show of dialing and looking at her watch. She even gesticulating a couple times like she were having an argument and the woman with the red lips finally retreated from the window, the curtains at last lying still against the glass.

Rachel figure that was her cue to leave and found her way back downtown to her office.

When she stopped at the 7-Eleven, they were out of her brand of cigarettes. It just wasn’t her day. First the man with the Porsche got away without exchanging phone numbers, then she lost Mrs. Dawson, and now this.

On a whim, she bought the kind Viktor had, $2 more than she usually spent.

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged A. Catherine Noon, Serial Fiction, The Night Is a Harsh Mistress

Mormon Cuisine

Writer Zen Garden Posted on June 15, 2008 by a.catherine.noonJune 15, 2008

Mormon Cuisine

Being that I’ve lived my entire life in the state of Utah, I assumed that everyone ate the same types of food that are prevalent here. When the 2002 Olympics came to town, there was lots of hype about ‘Mormon Cuisine’. They even made Olympic pins featuring those items that outsiders found most unusual. I’ve decided to share the recipes for a few of these dishes.

First up would have to be Jello. We are the Jello capitol of the world here in Utah, using almost three times as much per person as any other state in the Union. What makes our Jello creations so different from everyone else’s is that we include fruits and vegetables. Green jello, with pineapple chunks and grated carrots mixed in is a big favorite; some families even fold in a little cottage cheese. Personally, I hate that combination. I’m usually putting sliced bananas in strawberry jello or putting pear chunks in the lemon flavored jello for my kids. We also include extra Knox Gelatin, which has no flavor, in plain (nothing mixed in it) jello to make it more solid. It’s a great finger food for toddlers and nowhere as messy as the original stuff can be.

Another typical food here is Funeral Potatoes. Whenever someone in our church group dies, the ladies are asked to bring a dish to feed the family after the services, hence the name. It’s a common choice because everyone is familiar with the dish and it’s easy to make. Take a package of frozen hash brown potatoes, put it in a casserole dish and add a can of Cream of Mushroom or Cream of Chicken soup and a cup of sour cream. Bake for 30 minutes and then top with grated cheese or crunched up Corn Flakes. Voila!

My favorite Mormon food item has got to be Seven Layer Bean Dip. To make it, spread refried beans on the bottom of a casserole dish; make a layer of taco meat, then salsa, another of sour cream, olives, tomatoes and then top with grated cheese. Serve with tortilla chips. You may add guacamole, diced onions or Spanish rice to taste.

I thought that Shepherd’s Pie was something that everyone was familiar with, but apparently not according to those Olympic reporters. We mix a can each of diced carrots, peas, green beans and corn in a casserole dish, add cooked hamburger and brown gravy then spoon mashed potatoes or Tater Tots on top. Cook for an hour and then garnish with grated cheese. This is an easy dish to make; I often make four or five at a time and freeze the extras, then pull one out and put it in the oven on days I’m really pushed for time.

We also have something called Fry Sauce. Instead of catsup on our French fries, we mix catsup and mayonnaise into an orange sauce. It’s different, but very addicting.

Well, there you have it, ‘Mormon Cuisine’. Hope none of it was too bizarre. I’d love to know if any of you have heard of, or eat these dishes. It would be great to know that we’re not that ‘specialized’ in our eating habits here. 

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged Evilynne

Second Sight, by Debbie Mumford

Writer Zen Garden Posted on June 13, 2008 by a.catherine.noonJune 13, 2008
I missed my scheduled post this week due to finals overload, but, better late than never, right? I am proud to say that this amazing Wild Child/Freya’s bower rising star is my mentor through Romance Divas and has imparted plenty of valuable wisdom since we’ve been working together. But that has absolutely no bearing on this review. *grin*

This story was a quick read. I started it once, but got peeled away from it and didn’t come back until recently. The beginning pulled me right in with an intriguing ‘occult’ type murder and a psychic investigator Angie’s peculiar reaction to it, which befuddles her fiance and (sensitive but not psychic) partner, Zach Douglass. The mystery compounds when the psychic, Angie, dies suddenly – but not before handing over a book and a message to Zach. She tells him to find Jenny Murdoch, who turns out to be a translator. Zach takes the book Angie left him to Jenny, hoping she can help him unravel the mystery.

When they meet, there’s an indescribable attraction between Jenny and Zach. Her inner psychic ability takes the form of a tiger in her mind, and for the first time in her young, troubled life, the big cat is calm and content – thanks to Zach’s presence. Zach feels an uncanny draw to Jenny as well, and his fiances voice echoes in his mind, urging him to find out more about the mysterious translator who so carefully suppresses her obvious psychic talent.

I don’t want to ruin any more, so I’ll stop my summary there. I was drawn in first by the mystery, but didn’t mind when it took backdrop status as the developing and conflicting feelings between Jenny and Zach took center-stage. Ms. Mumford did an exquisite job taking a very risky situation (having a man who’d just lost a fiance fall in love with someone else weeks later) and making it convincing. I was definitely rooting for the couple, and the love scenes were tender and heartfelt. The characters and their reactions felt very real, the pacing very comfortable, and the writing clear and vivid. Overall, a very enjoyable read.

You can get this book through Freya’s Bower, or browse Debbie’s other works on her website.

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged Reads, Reviews

Life in L.A., two years ago

Writer Zen Garden Posted on June 9, 2008 by a.catherine.noonJune 9, 2008

When you’re a writer and go through misery, and later write it down because you’re so awful effen mad and sick about it all, it becomes something more. Something kind of funny that you can look back on and say, thank God I don’t have to live through that again. It also becomes story fodder.

This is one my personal favorites. Seventy-five minutes of my life, over two years ago when I used to depend on public transportation to get to work and back home again. My days were twelve hours long. This day was almost fourteen hours long.

Why did the Hoosier girl cross the busy Los Angelian road?

Because she had to pee. (No, wait. Because Keanu Reeves was on the other side of it, waiting for her in a soft gray stretch limo.)

So okay, her bus was half an hour late. And she’d decided to call a cab, but she wanted to do it back inside the building where she worked because the road was loud with traffic, making cell phone conversation about as much fun as getting an uncoated aspirin stuck in your throat. Why not re-enter the building, place the call for a cab, then pee?

Only the door was locked. So she made the call on a full bladder, with one finger in her ear to try and block out raging traffic sounds. Just as she’s doing this, the bus–her bus–comes roaring up to the intersection. The bus is on the other side of a six-lane road and the light is green. It barely slows down. And then poof, it’s gone.

She laughs, but she still has to pee so it’s not really that funny.

She spies Frenchy inside the building and knocks on the side door. He knows her. He’ll let her in, even if it is after hours and dark outside. Theoretically he could smirk, shake his head at her, and she’d have to live with so sad, your dad, but she’s wearing the black Captain and Tennille hat and black leather coat, a look that ensures entrance.

Four minutes later, she’s standing back in front of the building, awaiting her knight in yellow metal. Meanwhile, she yaks on her cell phone. Ten minutes go by. She wonders where her cab is and as the minutes pass, the thought becomes all-consuming, overriding thoughts of wine, the cold and food. She tries not to think about her friend’s friend who was recently been mugged.

Fifteen minutes after that, Hoosier girl calls the cab company again and learns that they canceled her cab because the cab driver didn’t see her standing where she said she would be and because he couldn’t reach her by phone. For whatever reason, there was no beep of interruption to let her know someone else was trying to get through. If the cabbie even tried to call her. She has her doubts. Actually, in a world gone awry, she’s aswarm with them.

Hoosier girl begins walking back to the bus stop because it’s almost time for the next bus and she figures she might as well take that bus since Fate’s decided kicking back in a cab isn’t going to happen. She’s halfway back to the bus stop when the next bus roars up to the intersection, five minutes early.

Run? Scream? Laugh? Cry? Pee?

These thoughts go through her brain as the bus squeals to a stop. For three heartbeats it stays there and the anticipation is heavy, like just before you climax. Then the light turns green, the bus rounds the corner and that’s that.

This is not fiction. This is her life.

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged Voice, Writing

Falling

Writer Zen Garden Posted on June 8, 2008 by a.catherine.noonJune 8, 2008



I recently cashed in my book voucher at Drollerie Press, and got Falling by Imogen Howson. Here’s the blurb;

Safety is an illusion.

When the world crumbles into chaos, only a chosen few can afford the luxury of life in towers built to soar far above the pollution and destruction on the ground. Life up in the air is full of beautiful things and beautiful people. What happens when you’re not one of them? What happens when everything you believed about the world turns out to be a lie?

You fall. Or you learn how to fly…

This short story retells the fairytale Rapunzel. Set in the future, Imogen weaves a split society – those who can afford to live in the towers above the poisonous smog, and those who can’t. Linnet is the only child of a rich couple, the mother obsessed with normalcy. Linnet struggles to be what her mother wants, to fit in, but Linnet has one ‘flaw’ that doesn’t fit the ideal. It takes more than a Prince Charming to get Linnet to see she is only different and far from ugly.

I enjoyed this story, the narrative refreshing and smooth. I loved how Linnet wasn’t the cliché she so easily could have been. There was some amazing character development as Gecko and Linnet interacted. The twist towards the end was lovely, making the well-known story delightfully fresh. I would recommend this story to anyone seeking a light but intriguing and pleasurable read.

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged Reviews

Thursday Thirteen

Writer Zen Garden Posted on June 5, 2008 by a.catherine.noonJune 5, 2008

Most of the contributors of the Writer’s Retreat Blog participate in the weekly meme, Thursday Thirteen, so every Thursday we link to the individual sites of each writer’s TT. Hopefully, this helps you get to know each of us a little better. This week we’ve got:

Dawn-It’s an army thing 😛

Gwen Mitchell-Sniff or Snort

A. Catherine Noon-13 Ways to Waste Time

Eaton Bennett- You guessed?

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged Thursday Thirteen

Post navigation

← Older posts
Newer posts →

Get Writer Zen Garden in Your Inbox

Subscribe to Our Free Newsletter

* indicates required

/* real people should not fill this in and expect good things – do not remove this or risk form bot signups */

Intuit Mailchimp

©2026 - Writer Zen Garden - Weaver Xtreme Theme
↑