Stuart's Daily Word Spot: Face

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Face: noun - front of head, from forehead to chin; visage, countenance; corresponding part of an animal, insect, or other creature; a portrait; form of address to someone, especially if admired or despised. Slang; the countenance as a way of expressing feelings, character; what's shown by expression; a grimace; the countenance with regard to beauty, make-up, cosmetics; the surface of anything; in Astrology - a third of a sign of the zodiac, extending over 10 degrees in longitude; a polished surface; either side of a medal or coin; the outer or upper side of a two-sided object; the front; the inscribed side of a document; the picture side of a playing card; in Architecture - the facade of a building; the exposed surface of a wall; the front of an arch; the main side, frequently vertical or steeply sloped, presented by the front of a cliff, a geological fault; an open slope or hillside; each surface of a solid; the dial of a clock or watch; the working surface of an implement or tool; the striking surface of a cricket bat, golf club, hockey stick, etc.; external look; semblance of; outward show; disguise, pretence; a pretext; visible state or condition; aspect; in Typography - the printing surface of type; a style of type; boldface, fat-face, old-face, etc.; in Mining - the end of a tunnel where work is going on; the principal surface from which coal is being removed.

'Karmen Kass is the face of Max Factor today.'

'George made a face when his mother tried to get him to eat sprouts.'

'Climbing the face of the cliff required more skill than Jennifer had developed at this stage and she fell off, plunging into the calm sea below.'

'The medallion awarded to the winning competitors had one face bearing the name and date of the contest but the main face carrying a depiction of a naked female athlete engaged in the sport.'

7^th December 1732 - The Royal Opera House opened in Covent Garden, London.

7^th December 1783 - Theatre Royal opened in Covent Garden, London
7^th December 1783 - William Pitt Jr (24) became Britain's youngest Prime Minister

7th December 2011- It's 70 years since Pearl harbour was attacked by the Japanese

Stuart's Daily Word Spot: Irony

Irony: noun - a pretence of ignorance used to entice others into saying things that can then be challenged; the use of language, normally expressing the opposite, to make some point; humorous use of praise to suggest condemnation or contempt.

In literature, irony is a device, in which the actual meaning is hidden or contradicted by the literal meaning of what is said or written. In dramatic irony, there is incongruity between what’s expected and what actually happens. Irony often comes from a resigned awareness of the contrast between what is and what should be and is expressed through controlled pathos lacking sentimentality. It’s a type of indirection that avoids overt praise or censure, as in the casual irony of statements like, ‘Brilliant!’ meaning, ‘Stupid’, or ‘The comprehensive philanthropy of conservative politics.’ meaning ‘The absolute self-serving meanness of conservative politics.’.

When used in a none literary fashion, irony is usually called ‘sarcasm’.

There is a pervasive theory amongst Brits that Americans have no understanding of irony, which probably stems from the British characteristic of self-deprecation contrasted with what the islanders see as the brash self-confidence of the newer country.

‘When Brenda referred to the level of intellectual tension conveyed by the two naked female mud-wrestlers, Bryan was oblivious of her irony and actually took his eyes off the action in order to agree with her.’

Picture: In the days before Google took over Blogger, I was able to associate posts with free images through a little widget called Zemanta. I might've delighted some of you, disgusted others, with a picture of nude women mud-wrestlers, but you'll have to make do with this picture of a local landscape, taken on a walk just a short distance from my home. I don't think there's any irony here; unless you think otherwise, of course.

Stuart's Daily Word Spot: Daft

Horse Fair Lane

Daft: adjective - meek, humble, mild; lacking in intelligence, silly, stupid, reckless, wild.

‘I tell you, Donald, that politician is as daft as they come; I mean, expecting us to believe a word he says is as daft as a vicar standing stark naked in the pulpit and expounding on the virtues of modesty.’

Stuart's Daily Word Spot: Altogether or all together:

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Altogether: noun - the whole together, total, everything; nude, naked. Adverb – entirely, totally, in every respect.

All together; in one place or grouped; all at the same time.

‘Persephone stepped from the shower, dried herself and wandered into the sitting room in the altogether, only to discover her gathered friends had arranged a surprise party for her birthday.’

‘It is altogether likely that we humans are not the only life form inhabiting the universe.’

‘When we go to the beach, we should go all together.’

Stuart’s Daily Word Spot: Habit

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Habit: noun -  apparel or attire, clothing, dress, set or suit of clothes, garment, gown or robe; outward form or appearance, guise; attire representing a rank, profession or function, uniform of a religious order, costume worn by a woman on horseback, a riding habit; physical appearance or constitution, bearing, demeanour, deportment or posture; surface or outward look of the body. In biology & crystallography it is the general external form of an organism or mineral; mental disposition or constitution; moral qualities, character; settled tendency to act in a particular way, often by frequent repetition of the same act until it’s almost involuntary; a customary practice or way of acting; custom, usage; dependency on addictive drugs, taking drugs; automatic reaction to a specific situation, acquired by learning or repetition.

‘It was Richard’s habit to spend a quiet hour before breakfast, sitting alone in his study and reading the morning paper before the family awoke.’

‘The nun was forced to run the gauntlet of insults as she passed the reform school, where the boys would leer and demand to know whether she was naked under her habit.’

‘Charlie and Rebecca had tried on many occasions to kick their habit, but every time they came close, one of them would bring a new supply into the house and they would succumb again.’

Empty Chairs by Stacey Danson, Reviewed.

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Empty Chairs, by Stacey Danson, is a remarkable piece of writing. This autobiographical insight into the early life of a girl subject to physical and sexual abuse is honest, frank and characterised by a refusal to hide unpleasant detail. That the abuse was initiated by her mother, who acted as her pimp, when Stacey was the tender age of 3, makes the revelations all the more horrific.

It is natural to expect that an account of this type would be driven by bitterness and revenge but the author manages to tell her story without undue hostility. And that, in itself, is an amazing feat. If ever a woman had just cause to resent the world into which she was born, Stacey Danson is that woman. But she simply lays out the facts; emotional, physical, mental, spiritual and rational. There are places where the text is almost too hard to read. I have been kept awake nights by some of her descriptions. This is, as you would expect, a difficult book to read. But I urge you to read it simply because it is hard.

The prose style is simple, yet eloquent. She writes pretty much as you would expect her to think and spares none of the expletives that, for her, have been an integral part of her upbringing. There is no attempt to deviate from the truth for effect, no attempt to embroider or exaggerate the facts. The simple truth is enough here, and Stacey has recognised that and allowed integrity to describe her experiences.

I am, by nature, an optimist and a lover of women in general. The experience of this book has caused me to question some of my beliefs about people more than any other work I’ve read; and I include such classics as All Quiet on the Western Front and A Town Like Alice as examples of man’s inhumanity in this comparison.

Men and women, authorities and victims, the respected and the reviled, all feature in this book as adults. And all are shown as flawed, many of them seriously so. There are those who simply looked the other way and thus allowed the terrible abuse to continue. There are those who worked in trusted occupations and yet tormented and harmed the vulnerable child they should have been protecting. There are those who exploited, or wished to exploit, a girl who so distrusted people that even those who might have been her friends could not win her trust. And, in the end, it was the children, the other victims, who rescued her from what might otherwise have been a violent and untimely death.

There is no sentimentality, no attempt to rouse the reader’s pity, in the words on these pages. What you get is the simple truth of a life damaged and abused. Yet, through it all, the spirit of the writer rises and grows to become aware of the greater world and, as the book ends, to begin to wonder if there are, after all, some good people in the world, after all.

Stacey wrote this account to alert the world to the reality of child abuse; to tell those complacent souls who blind themselves to facts, by blaming victims, that sometimes children have no choice; to educate those in authority about the reality of life on the streets for the abused. But she has achieved something more than that. She has made a work of such integrity that the reader emerges from the experience both wiser and more compassionate. And she has earned the unbounded admiration of this reader for telling it exactly as it is. 

Edit,Edit, Edit.

Image via WikipediaTwo more chaps done on book 2. 10 more of book 1 corrected. So, not a bad day.
Posted another author interview and wrote and posted a review for a book by the same author.
Walked to the doc's to pick up prescriptions - timely, as my chronic problem decided to haunt me again this morning. As rest is the only cure, I've not done half the things I intended and will now have to give up for the day and go and relax for the rest of the evening. Still, there's a new dramatisation of Women In Love on the goggle box, so I'll put my feet up and imbibe a drop of the red stuff whilst I see what sort of job they make of this one.

And, why, you ask, the nude? Well, she's the allegorical figure of 'Romance' and came up from the links that Zemanta found from trawling the content of this text. This application seems to have a mind of its own and sometimes makes the most inexplicable links. This one happens to be in the public domain, so is free from copyright. And it's a piece that celebrates rather than exploits female beauty, so it's fine with me. How about you?

Author Interview with Laura B Gschwandtner

Laura B Gschwandtner is married, the mother of three daughters, a writer, magazine editor, artist, and co-owner with her husband of an integrated media business.

Her work has appeared in various journals including Del Sol Review and WritingRaw.com. One of her prose poems has been included in an anthology called Oil and Water and Other Things That Don’t Mix, which is a collection being published to support victims of the BP oil spill in the Gulf.

She has received awards for three different stories from the Writer’s Digest Annual Competition in the mainstream literary category and the Lorian Hemingway short fiction competition, and  was short listed for a Tom Howard Short Story Contest.

She also founded TheNovelette.com which offers free themed writing contests with prizes for emerging writers.

Her first novel, The Naked Gardener is available at www.amazon.com in Kindle and print versions, and at and BarnesandNoble.com and at amazon.uk.com

She lives in Virginia, raises orchids. She likes plants, hummingbirds, Bald Eagles, really great writing, and art.

She is an avid kayaker (touring) and grew up fishing in the Florida Keys.

Tell us about The Naked Gardener in a few sentences.

The Naked Gardener introduces artist Katelyn Cross who gardens naked. Lives in a chicken coop. Takes five gal pals on a canoe trip in the wilds of northern VT. Catches fish with her bare hands. Body paints. And frets over whether marrying Greg Mazur means losing herself within a marriage.

How did you come to write this particular book?

At a certain point in my life, I knew three women who gardened naked. They all had different takes on why, so I began to think about a woman named Katelyn Cross who goes to her garden naked and what that might mean and in what ways it would be liberating for her and important in her life. I chose one of the women I knew as the inspiration for the environment Katelyn creates. The garden symbolizes her world and the rocks in it keep getting in her way. So she has to deal with life's obstacles, even in her garden. Stripping off her clothes is an act of disencumbering, of removing outer layers that restrict the inner person.

When Katelyn says: “I never told anyone. Just kept going to my garden naked. Like some spirit hovering over the land,” she is referring to the spirit within that needs a voice.

If you have a favourite character in your novel, why that particular one?

Near the end of the book, I introduce an elderly woman who speaks her mind and is undaunted by the troubles and sorrows life has thrown at her. I love her particularly because she loves life so much. But I love all my characters.

Where and when is your novel set and why did you make these specific choices?

It’s set in northern Vermont but there are scenes in Mexico and references to Virginia.

I chose a setting and references to other places I know well.

How can people buy your book?

In the U.K.

In the U.S.

What qualities make a successful writer?

Tenacity, talent, internal courage

How do you set about writing a piece?

I start. I think. I write. I rewrite. I try to figure out what I am writing about – what the piece is at its core. Writing fiction is like a big puzzler.

Beginning writers make many mistakes; what do you think is the most harmful?

Giving up.

To what extent are grammar and spelling important to a writer?

Grammar very …  but spelling not so much. Scott Fitzgerald was an awful speller. It’s theorized he had a spelling disorder.

How much revision of your MS do you do before you send it off?

A lot.

How do you know where to begin any given story?

I rewrite beginnings more than any other part of the book. The beginning should set up the story you’re about to tell.

“It was the best of times; it was the worst of times.”

“Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.”

What sort of displacement activities keep you from actually writing?

Oh, Haagen Dazs mint chip ice cream is an awful distraction.

Do you have support, either from family and friends or a writing group?

Not specifically but it is important to have writer friends as they’re the only people who really understand it when you talk about people you’ve invented as if they are real people. If you go around doing that with non writers, well, you might find yourself in a very different kind of support group.

How long does it normally take you to write a novel?

It varies. I wrote The Naked Gardener in less than a year. But I’ve been working on something else for about four years now on and off.

Is there any aspect of writing that you really enjoy?

I love figuring out the characters and the plot and how to meld the writing with those elements.

Do you think writing is a natural gift or an acquired skill?

It’s some of both but to be a professional at it I think it’s more the latter. It’s like being a musician. You have to play the scales for years and years. I heard Horowitz in his eighties say that he still played the scales every day. I don’t know of any child genius writers.

What single piece of advice would you give to writers still hoping to be published?

Just keep at it. And if you believe in what you’re doing, and can’t get an agent for whatever reason, don’t let the outside world dictate how you feel about yourself as a writer & get yourself into eBooks.

Do you have a website or a blog that readers can visit?

http://thenovelette.com/

Where do you write?

I sit at my desktop in front of the big windows in my home studio and pound away with the four fingers I use to type – badly. That’s the one thing I wish I had learned as a young person – touch typing. My typing is horrendous.

Thank you, Stuart. This was fun!