Excuse me?

Does everybody know what a capcha is? It’s one of those things you run into online pretty often these days, usually when you’re trying to register for a site or post a comment on a blog, in which you must correctly retype a random and strangely displayed word or two. It’s to prove you’re a human being and not a “robot,” a computer designed to zip around the Web in search of places to infect with spam.

Well today I got an email from a wildlife group, asking me to sign a petition to save wolves. I like wolves. Bears and buffalo and all types of wildlife really. I just can’t fathom that after 400 years, give or take, of manifest destiny on this continent, the occupying European settlers can’t stop obsessively savaging the animals. I swear it’s like some bloodthirsty communal OCD, manifesting in asshats who have no other way to justify their employment at our expense. But I digress.

I tried to register to sign this petition, which was a lot like trying to hack into the mainframe that houses the CIA’s cafeteria cookbook, and I encountered a capcha. Without further ado, behold:

auger asseat2

Can you believe it? You might as well, because I’m not making it up. It said auger asseat.

What language is that? I suspect it’s Middle School Study Hall. … Wow. … Is it me, or is that really sick?

Going Nowhere

An open letter to The Travel Channel, also submitted online to their Viewer Relations Dept:

I like shows about travel. One would think I could find one occasionally on the Travel Channel. One would be wrong. Where the Travel Channel is supposed to be on my TV, there’s a network devoted to recreational binge eating and ghosts. I don’t believe in either one.
This is chronic. You aren’t producing shows about travel anymore, right? Anthony Bourdain travels, but then he just eats. Except for Samantha Brown  – who’s great – you’ve got nothin’. And one show doesn’t make a channel. 
Come on, guys, spring for some air fare and show us some travel.

Can you relate?

Let Us Repair

What an interesting word, repair. It means to fix something, of course. But also:

Move, travel, or proceed toward some place; "He repaired to his cabin in the woods."

Let us repair to the kitchen and repair the sink, for I have a sinking feeling it won’t drain. Not really, I’m making stuff up.

I have ordered the new graphics card my PC needs to continue its useful existence. It’s coming from Amazon.com, eventually, on sale at $33.94, which is 36% off. And free shipping.

I’m a pretty good shopper, huh?

Don’t know what a graphics card looks like? It looks like this.

gpu1

I say it’s coming eventually because it might not be here for 3 or 4 weeks. That’s annoying. I didn’t notice until I was placing the order that the page said “in stock,” sold by Amazon directly and “usually ships in 1-3 weeks.”

And I wonder why it is that Amazon can ship books it has in stock in the warehouse the next day, but not other things it claims to have in stock in the warehouse. Smells like something in the fridge is suspicious to me.

How I Double-Wasted A Couple of Hours

Here’s the premise: we all know what it means to waste time. But if you’re doing 2 things at once, both of which are pretty useless, that’s double-wasting time, right?

I think I mentioned that I’ve been having PC troubles. My beautiful desktop machine started crashing – blue screen of death crashing, which is serious – about 8 days ago. Before that, its video functions had been funky. Once the crashing started and I’d ruled out things like virus, bad memory, dust in the tower, and registry fubar, I discovered that the graphics card was overheating. It was twice as hot as it was supposed to be (approx 215 F), but the fans are running.

I’ve been advised to replace the graphics card. I’m working on that. The PC is on injured reserve and I’m using my trusty but temperamental laptop. The desktop still works just fine, with a little fan blowing cold air into the case. But that’s like driving a car around with a bad water pump, and the back seat full of water jugs. Better to let it mostly rest until new parts are obtained and installed, than to be constantly worried and watching the gauges.  

In the mean time, of course everything is backed up as much as possible. All of my writing is saved onto a second PC, CDs, flash drives, and up yonder in The Cloud. But I said to myself, “Hey self, wouldn’t it be cool to have all those poems in one file, which could be updated at will, and saved easily to Dropbox for backup?”

So, since there’s just no arguing with myself when I get a brilliant idea like that, off I went through the short prime time hours of last night, building a Word file of poems by me in alphabetical order. And properly formatted for efficient mapping and retrieval, of course. And while doing that, I was – here’s the double-wasting part – watching TV.

Not writing or reading or winding the clocks or pondering the luminosity of the Waxing Gibbous moon. Shuffling stuff I’ve already written, and glowering at the tube.

Oh dear. But I learned that I have almost 140 completed poems, now all nice and neat. And there’s another folder of unfinished ones; drafts, loose pieces, false starts and insensate stuff. Probably many more in there. But I’ve come to my senses, for now. I’m not diving into that. Instead, I’m writing this. 

By the way, the last post, Cheesy Blogging, really was allowed to ferment for over 24 hours in my vat of drafts before posting. I’m not sure it it improved the flavor. Maybe it just made the stuff a little stale.

Speaking of which, for being such a good reader and sticking with me, here’s a treat for you. From deep in the crusty casks of the Unfinished Poems folder, a poem. It’s from way back in February of 1999.

 

OPEN WATER

I can see nothing.
I look out into limitless dark
that hours ago was the sea
and into which now
everything — boats, birds,
men and islands and all
the world I
knew in daylight —
has disappeared.

I wish I was home
in my old chair, but we
had our final good-byes to make.
I wish I was anywhere candles
burn with happiness
but the ocean called me out tonight.
Up and down on worrisome swells,
then the morning tide wakes and turns
and carries this wreckage
in first light for open water.

 

 

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Creative Commons License
Open Water by Kyle Kimberlin is licensed under a
Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs
3.0 United States License
.
Please feel free to copy and share it with others.

cheesy blogging

When is blogging like cheese? When you let it age a while.

I was just reading a post by a blogger who was writing his post offline, knowing that it would be a while before he could post it, because his Internet was down. Which made me wonder: How would blogging be different if you always had to wait a few days or a week between the time you started it and the time you posted it?

I’ve often said that I can’t get into Twitter because nothing meaningful can be said in 140 characters. Actually I’m  not sure that’s true. But it’s just very difficult to do it in a hurry.

Clouds appear
and bring to men a chance to rest
from looking at the moon.

– Basho, (75 characters)

Drunk as a hoot owl,
writing letters
by thunderstorm.

– Kerouac (51 characters)

So it isn’t the length of the work that troubles me, it’s the haste. Haste makes waste. And it does seem that all this lightspeed technology is hastening human thought to the point that it can’t matter, so never mind.

So what if, instead of working on this post for 30 minutes – including research, hydration, and a trip to the loo – then quickly publishing, I don’t. Instead, I’ll click Save and see if tomorrow it has reached that tangy mellow sharpness that I like to taste in words.

We’re hoping for a mild cheddar, because I don’t know jack.

————–

Having let it ferment for a day I see, more than ever, that the cheese stands alone.

crashtastics

It’s been one of those weeks, and blogging hasn’t been on my mind. My very nice desktop computer started crashing several days ago, and figuring that out has been giving me fits. I’ve checked it for viruses and driver glitches, memory failure, registry errors, and fan fubar.

Since I’ve done a little tinkering and tuning, it’s running great, except when it crashes, a few times a day. It’s pretty frustrating. The whole problem was preceded, over the past couple of weeks, but the PC acting funky when I try to watch any kind of videos. YouTube, Netflix, little movies I’ve made or saved, all looked wrong. So with that in mind, research suggests the display driver is going bad. And if it goes all the way bad, the computer will have no display at all.

Display drivers aren’t expensive, unless you’re into power-gaming, which I’m not. About the price of a couple of nice hardback books. Which is a better thing to spend money on. But graphics cards are very complicated. You think choosing a computer is hard, try buying a part to go inside. Whew.

To top it off, the weather has been too beautiful lately, so I’m not wanting to sit indoors during the day. So I’ve been trying to figure this out and fix it during the evening, with the TV on, while I’m getting tired and cranky. … I’m taking the night off. The desktop is shut down, I’m using the laptop, and tomorrow night’s another night for geeky struggles. 

Avoid the Blank Slate

It might seem counterintuitive to stop in the middle of a task, but if you return to work you’ve already begun, it can help you remain focused and offset the mental blocks that frequently occur when starting with a blank slate.

I find this is absolutely true. It’s better to come back to a task half finished – whether it’s writing or dusting the furniture – than to sit down at the desk or look around the room, trying to decide where to go and what to do next.

I’m stuck at the end of a scene I shouldn’t have finished; at least not until I was ready to flow on to the next. Now what? Another scene in the same time frame? Skip ahead a few years? Does what happens next happen the next day or the next decade? And what is it?

Time for some serious ideating.

Here’s an interesting little article on Lifehacker – from which the quote above is taken – on why you should never stop at a stopping point.

Leave Your Tasks Unfinished For Greater Productivity

Actually, it was Ernest Hemingway who said it most succinctly: “When you are going good, stop writing.”

Happy Anniversary!

Today – February 3 – I’m sending out Happy Anniversary greetings – and a big I love you – to my Mom and Dad. It’s their 55th wedding anniversary. I love you guys.

I remember where I was on their 30th anniversary. I was sitting in my car on a trailhead on a high buff overlooking a canyon, with the lights of Chico far below. I was in college, working as a security guard, assigned to watch a weather station. I had my dinner in a brown bag, a thermos of coffee, flashlight, a couple of text books, and my notebook for poems.

IN PASSING

 

I have spent these hours
in silence watching darkness
take this blue canyon
a little traffic
and the town lights
in the valley

A pair of mice eyes
like black seeds watched me
pass on a steep trail pushing
my little light to the end
of this road

I wonder what you’ve known
together what nights in quiet
canyons lights passing quickly
to rest in distant places
these thirty years

At sunset I saw a hawk
on a fence post far below
spread his wings and climb
beyond the light

– Kyle Kimberlin
from Finding Oakland © 1992

Click here to listen to this poem.

Writing Well

I never took a class in how to hold a big writing project together. I don’t think anybody did, not back when I was in college, anyway. I studied creative writing, along with literature, rhetoric, business writing, etc. But back then you wrote stuff, you edited and edited and rewrote and revised. And if you hadn’t already been typing during that process, at some point you wouldn’t probably be expected to type your manuscript.

moleskine1Research was discussed, of course. Writers have always done research. We students were dispatched to the library, and we kept copious notes in our colorful Mead notebooks, with Bic ballpoint pens. (Sometimes I used a #2 pencil.) We had electric typewriters and liquid paper, or those little correction strips.

But one thing was never discussed in my classes: project management. I don’t think I even heard the term, except maybe referring to construction, until years later. But the fact is that a writing project is just as much in need of management as an overpass or an office building. And organization, my friend, is a humorless old goat.

faulkner1954

In the face of this seething vacuum – this leering lack of tangible, relevant advice, I have struggled. I have cast my lines upon the torpid seas of the Internet in search of suggestions and insight:

How do you keep your notes, and your brain, organized while you try to write long fiction?

The answer comes back as a ghostly voice singing thinly from the depths of a well:

Find what works for you and do that … at …at.

Well, thanks. That’s so helpful.

I’ve tried asking concrete questions: During revisions, do you maintain your manuscript as a single digital file (such as a Word file) or do you use multiple files for chapters or sections? Why? (Compare and contrast.)

Do you keep your notes – ideas, concerns, thoughts, research, etc. – in handwritten notebooks, in a notes program like Evernote or OneNote, in a separate Word doc, in the same document with the manuscript…?

How do you keep your notes organized, so that when you return to a chapter to revise, you’ll have your notes at hand?

Here’s a biggie, a very popular topic among writers: Do you outline, or not? No consensus there; again, the voice from the well.

Well, I’ve tried all of the above. I’ve got notes for my project in Evernote, in Notepad text files, in Word files, in Google Docs, in notebooks in ballpoint and gell ink, and in e-mails addressed to myself. I’ve even tried appending all the notes to the end of the in-process manuscript, as a 20-30 page appendix, with hyperlinks from the pertinent passages of text. That got cumbersome.

Tonight, I read this page by a professor of English at a small Tennessee college, in which he answers the Outlines and Notes questions for himself. I found it not unhelpful. And it’s encouraging that he wound up doing the same thing I did.

For this fellow, outlining in a complex sense does not serve. Me too. I need a list of scenes, but that’s it. He makes lots of notes, as do I. We both admire and use Evernote quite a lot, but keep our novel project notes in Word. He wrote:

I made two documents.  One was my manuscript file.  … The other document was my notes file.  It was just a normal MS Word .docx, but I separated it into sections:

  • Backstory Notes (this section included organizational subheadings depending on what part of the novel I was trying to clarify)
  • Structure Notes
  • Plot Notes
  • Revision Notes
  • Unused Text

Under each of these sections sits a series of bullet points that I could append anytime I felt like it.  Some of the stuff didn’t end up making it into the first draft, but a lot of it did.  And that’s okay because I knew by just looking at the document what went where and why.

That’s sort of what I did, but mine has a lot more sections; e.g., character notes, landmarks, timelines, themes, etc.

I also put very short notes and observations in the manuscript, using Word’s comments function. That works well, as least for the current draft.

I still think the more lightweight tools, like a good notebook, Evernote, or even Notepad, are good for getting the idea out of the brain cloud into the digital one. But then it needs to go in the Word file, organized, and preferably by the end of the day.

I guess the moral of the story is that we really do have to plod through this process of finding what works for us, occasionally tossing a dime in a taciturn old well. Or you can keep reading good old Metaphor. And leave your preferences and insights in the comments, OK? To put it another way….

Well, keep in touch.

No Accounting For It

Ah, good taste, what a dreadful thing! Taste is the enemy of creativeness.

– Pablo Picasso

Boy, that’s the truth, isn’t it? And who jumps to mind among the worthies of literature? I mean, you don’t even have to wander off toward Charles Bukowski, Hunter S. Thompson or William S. Burroughs.

We’re talkin’ D.H. Lawrence, James Joyce, Mark Twain. Among those three there are banning, prosecution, and attempts to expunge their work from from libraries.

How can it be? Well, in the words of Ron White, “You can’t fix stupid.”