chelydra

ouch again

anotherronism

giraffe wrote: "And just out of curiosity, can anyone describe any situation in real life where exact word count matters? Newspapers sometimes edit to column inches or lines of text. ?????"

giraffe. Ever been paid for writing? Or specifically - spec writing?

And did you say newspapers "sometimes" edit to column inches? Sometimes? Really???

Did you do the high school news thing? Or college? Or real life?

Real writers, not novelists, who get paid for their work almost always write to very concise specifications. Very, very concise.

Go back to the early days. I don't give a crap about what TW has become. Yay to all of you that it's even still alive.

But TW is NOT about writing or at least wasn't originally. TW is comparable to TD in it's relationship between established parameters and final product.

As in TD you have a fixed canvas and a limited number of drawing tools. TW was created here to reflect the same idea in writing. A fixed canvas (number of words) and a limited number of drawing tools (required word lists). ThinkWrite is on ThinkDraw not by an accident.

Yeah - I was probably drunk when I thought it up but... TW is about storytelling and editing. To me personally it so well compares to TD in that it makes us take ourselves out of our "art" (quotes intentional and directed to myself as well) and focus instead on the craft of it all.

It's about the work. That's all. The work that goes into it and the effort that is shared via the final piece.

My two cents.

anotherronism

And again I have to ask the audience for help. What the F is Quixmickle?

It better be good or I'm gonna ignore it and please don't say read the past seven thousand posts to understand.

I wanna write. I got da itch brotha. Don't care none t'all be good be bad. Whatsever. But someone has GOT to say what that word means. And that right soon.

midnightpoet

Quixmickle is a made-up word that was included in the word list by Marius one of the times she bore the torch.

anotherronism

Midnight. Thanks for that but what does it mean?

anotherronism

Marius is a she? Really? I always think of Marius as an ancient one. Male. Definitely male.

midnightpoet

Marius said it was a word her and her sister used, it was kind of a level above infinity...but we were free to use it however we chose.

midnightpoet

I've been hiding in my corner again for a while. I'm still hiding...travelling, actually, but it amounts to the same thing. I have a few hours to kill, I have to catch a train soon, and I'm staying up so I can sleep on the ride. I was going to use this time to catch up on reading what you all have been writing, but my attention span is faltering...my mind is wandering. So, instead I'm going to write...ramble...something along those lines...it's what I do when my mind won't shut up.

And yes, I will take a stab at this word list at some point here. I do have a few hours to kill and I don't think this particular rambling session will take quite that long. But right now, I want to share my views on what TW is/was, as there seems to have been some discussion about that.

Giraffe said, "whenever I've been told that there would be tighter restrictions on my creativity, I rebel." I can understand this sentiment. I'm a rebel at heart...just ask my parents. I'm an adult now, and I still rebel, not against my parents so much, but against everything. I'm still trying to find a way to rebel against gravity, but have thusfar been unsuccessful.

BUT...I don't see the strick ThinkWrite rules as being 'restrictions'...I see them as a challenge. I reject competition at my very core. I've said this before...but there's an exception to that.

I love to compete with myself. And that's what a challenge is...pushing my limits and doing better than I've done before.

Before TW, editing was just not something I did. I was terrible at it...and I LOVED the challenge of an exact word count. To edit, rewrite, edit some more and, for once in my life, color inside the lines.

I found that my writing grew stronger. At least in my own head. And in ThinkWrite I have found a happy place, a sanctuary, an outlet for all these words and stories and thoughts swimming in my subconcious.

And so, something inside me shudders when the tight rules are loosened, or when it is suggested that there is any sort of competition involved here.

Does that mean I think rulebreaking and rulebreakers should be outlawed? Heavens, NO! Rulebreaking is neccessary if there are to be rules at all.

In the same sense, rules are neccessary if there are going to be rulebreakers.

I know, it is the torchbearer's right to loosen or tighten the reigns...but it saddens me when they're loosened and my challenge is taken away.

midnightpoet

This just wrote itself. It's 318, no title...though if I had to give it one, I suppose the easy answer there would be to call it "I must walk", but I really prefer it with no title.
*
My feet are itching. I have to walk. Somewhere. Anywhere. The constant itching is getting to me again and walking is the only way to scratch it. I must walk

How far will I go this time? I’m not sure. Somewhere between a mile and a quixmickle, and who knows where I’ll end up this time, to plant roots for a while…but I must walk.

I need freedom, I need passion, and I need peace. That’s what walking does for me. It satisfies my itchy feet. Satisfies my need to escape. Satisfies the very core of my being. I must walk.

I pull up roots and rid myself of all but the clothes on my back and the money in my wallet. I settle where ever my feet take me to. Sometimes it’s quiet. Sometimes it’s chaotic. Sometimes the walk takes me nowhere at all, and I settle back in the place I left.

I must walk.

Shall I keep it simple this time and just walk to the next town? Or shall I try once more to walk myself out of the stratosphere? I never know how the walk will go when I start…I just get that itch, and I must walk.

I could never be a contestant in a marathon. My batteries don’t charge enough to run like that. I must walk.

Sometimes my legs get tired when I walk for too long, but that doesn’t stop me. I must walk.

I get dirty and sweaty and start to smell funny after a while, but I must walk.

I have no real home or family anymore, and that’s okay, because I must walk.

When a car stops and offers me a ride, I decline politely. I must walk.

Because when I walk, I’m free…I’m passionate…I’m peaceful.

And I’m slightly purple.

*

anotherronism

Okay. This is wierd. I am NOT kidding either. I decided to write something. I did the barest smidge of research and started writing. I got my main ideas on 'paper' and did a word count. I am not kidding - first draft - first pass - 318.

No lie. No ronism.

I have to post this unedited. Period.

anotherronism

Burke,

This is late in coming I know. But I’ve been busy.

God what a mess it all was. Still is. I guess. A real quixmickle as Mommy would say.

How are you holding up?

Remember when I was just contestant number three or thirty-five or whatever? I remember you there always; shuffling feet – elbows and eyeballs. What a goof…

Ha. And Mommy and the purple? Always with the purple eyeliner. Even too-cool you always told her no. No. Mom – she looks like a plastic doll.

And God. I mean God. We get cable here too and God. I really did. Dude you were so right with that. Serious up.

Oh sorry. I keep talking to you like a kid. I’m twenty now but I still think of you as nine. Sorry.

Dude. Peace. I know you didn’t kill me. I do.

I wish you could actually get this letter. So you would know that I know.

And I do know. I know everything.

God! What do you look like now? Are you hot? Are you cute? Do you have a girlfriend?

But I ramble on and on.

Between you and me it’s so simple. Mom did it. Right? Assault and battery on poor little me: Over and done right?

It’s so quiet here in the stratosphere. Except I’m nowhere near your stratosphere and I don’t even know what that means…

I love you bro.

I wish we hadn’t’ve done those things. Played those games.

But more’n that I wish… Well… I wish that paintbrush wasn’t where I think it is now. Did you hide it in the sewer dude? Out there. Where we played. In the rain? Did it wash away?

What else washed away big brother? What else?

It’s such a constant thing with me now. I love you so much.

But it’s so quiet.

Always so quiet.

Did you kill me Burke? Did you?

Why?

midnightpoet

I don't quite get it. In the middle it says I know you didn't kill me and it ends asking Did you kill me...ambiguity in a piece that is otherwise very certain...from a place where you think there would be certainty. I'm mildly confused, but that could be due to the late hour, lack of sleep, and the fact that you generally confuse me.

anotherronism

Midnight. Hi! (waggles hand furiously and a bit gayly). Hi!

She loves him. That's all. That simple.

anotherronism

And there is a tiny bit of mystery here as well...

midnightpoet

Hi Ron!

Ah...she...I was reading it as though the writer was male...not sure why. I tend to do that if the gender isn't clearly specified.

Still don't get it though.../shrug

anotherronism

And wait - here is what I actually want to say. This came in at 318 on the first draft. I could not, under any circumstance, change it then. I just couldn't.

This is not a story. It's an excercise. There is a simple mystery easily solved. And - once solved - the 'story' will make snese in that it doesn't make sense. And that is the "sense" of it.

What?

midnightpoet

*lightbulb goes on*

*flickers*

*goes off again*

nope, don't get it. probably trying to hard. My brain is starting to hurt.

I have once before gotten a story at the exact word count on the first shot, so I get that...not editing at that point and what not.

but I really want your story to make sense...it would be nice if something made sense.

Maybe I should go read something else. But my brain won't shut up and let me.

Ugh.

anotherronism

Midnight. I have always loved you (okay not really but you know what I mean) and I want to tell you. It'll be a d'uh moment. I promise. But it's late and you're tired. But it's too early to spoil the fun for everyone else.

And who am I to say it's fun? I dunno.

But it is an obvious piece that is general knowledge and most people will say d'oh after the answer is revealed.

So if you really want it this early in the game then you'll have to pinky swear and send me a real e-mail addy.

midnightpoet

Ron, sgtmaldemer@gmail.com & pinky swear.

It's too late to figure things out on my own, and once I catch that train it'll be a while before I'm back here again...

And, I've always loved you too...in that 'he's another drunk intellectual on the internet' sort of way.

anotherronism

I take "another drunk intellectual on the internet" as a compliment. Although from you - I'd take "slug" as a compliment. Smoochies and a hug too babe.