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don't speak...don't speak!

memory?

I’m attempting to expand the length of the novel I started for National Write a Novel Month last November, The Uncurious Adventures of Knod Knowingly.  I didn’t hit the 50,000 words, but think maybe I will before I attempt to start a new one this November.  Maybe I’m crazy? Maybe it’s lazy?  I have no idea what I’ll write about this time around.  I had that Knod character in my head for a couple years when last November rolled around.  Well, there is Mowana Winkey who has been in my head longer.  I’m not 100%, but I think she might have been a monkey?  And I know as much about her as I did about Knod.  Anyway,

I’ve taken to going to Island Cafe on Hayden Island to write.  Since Knod’s story takes place on an island, my thinking is sitting on a float on the water might help.  It has, some.  But as I read back through to make sure that I’m not repeating events I come across sections that I have no memory of writing?  

Like this from page 22 & 23.

The trees around the lake were perfectly matched in height and color.  So it created an almost cover for the lake, like a wall.  It didn’t keep out any of the animals but it felt like a curtain and you could almost imaging that it was your own room or even better you very own lake.  That didn’t happen very often.  It was a popular place.  It was the smallest on the island so it didn’t attract a lot of people.

As the other boys swam and dove into the water, Knod laid back on the edge of the lake.  It was just warm enough that the sun felt good on your skin, but you didn’t get hot.  He closed his eyes and even though everyone was making noise, calling back and forth to each other, Knod nodded off.

He felt warm and light.  He could just barely hear everyone at the lake.  Their voiced echoed off in the distance and he couldn’t make out what they were saying.  He walked through a crowd of people somewhere.  He felt like he was in a place he should know but it didn’t look like anyplace he had ever been.  The women were dressed in very shiny dresses with large buttons and many color’s.  Some had feathers in their hair or hat’s on.  Some of the hats seemed as big around as the moon if you looked up at it at night.  The men had on suits and their hair was slicked back and shiny.  Their skin looked tight.  Just like his dad’s face would look right after he shaved.  They kept moving in all directions and paid no attention to Knod.  Knod seemed to be able to move around and through them without getting in the way or brushing up against anyone.  There were about a hundred conversations going on.  Or at least that’s what it seemed like.  Everyone was talking, but he couldn’t make out what anyone was saying.  He didn’t yet see anyone that he knew or even looked familiar.  Then as he made his way to the other side of the room, the people changed and the room was smaller.  There were less people and they seemed to see Knod as he walked through them.  He still didn’t see anyone he knew.  He was too shy to talk to anyone or ask who they were.  He thought maybe they would ask him who he was.  

Who were these people?  Knod remembered a lot of his dreams.  There was almost always someone in the dream that he knew.  Maybe this was where Pop was?  They did all look nice, dressed up like they were going someplace nice.  Like Pop was when he was put into the ground.  He could feel and hear himself starting to ask people if they knew Pop.  Or had they seen Pop?  No on answered.  A few people smiled nicely at him, but no one said anything.  He kept going around the room from one side to the other looking at everyone in the room.  Everyone seemed to be moving in slow motion. 

The room felt soft.  The lights that hung from the ceiling were sparkly and glowing.  Every once in a while someone would new would come into the room, but Knod couldn’t find the door.  He was watching each and every person closely so he could quickly know when someone new came into the room.  If this was where Pop was he didn’t want to miss him.  Pop wouldn’t be expecting him so he wouldn’t know to look for him. 

As he turned around to see the room behind him the room had gotten smaller and there was a new wall.  Knod thought that he was in the middle of the room, but now he was not.  And the crowd was getting smaller.  As he turned back around they also seemed even more different.  They didn’t have on the same clothes.  They didn’t seem to shine as much anymore.  They seemed to have on more practical clothes.  Nice clothes, nice enough for Sunday, but not as nice as before.

Then from way over on the other side of the room he thought he saw someone looking his way and he could hear someone saying his name, “Knod, Knod…Knod!” it got louder and louder.  He tried to make his way to the other side to see who it was.  Was it Pop?  It didn’t sound like it, but then what would Pop sound like here.  Then he realized it was Dek yelling at him to get into the water and he was awake.

Some days I feel I have a way with words.  Other’s … blah, blah, blah.  It’s more of the same.  Feel free to chime in.  I take constructive criticism well.  Although only just a few over 15,000 words, it is further than I’ve ever been.  Maybe it’s a short, not a novel?

 

@jgx

 

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creative don't speak...don't speak!

water

What is it about the water that I am so drawn to it? I don’t think probably more or less than most maybe. What is it?

I often find myself thinking how peaceful it is under the water. I love sounds, but there is nothing like the sound that is underwater. It’s suspended; it’s void and blank. There is a heavy feel to it. Yet it is calming, natural and mysterious. I think a lot about how to be on the water.
home

If it were possible to be in the water, I’d do it in a heartbeat. Not in like the “Incredible Mr Limpet” way, just in somehow.
mr. limpet

Being in or around the water you didn’t think about what was going on in your world or the world for that matter. You had to pay attention to the water and what you were doing in it. You have to pay attention, be present. You have to balance and measure your breathing.

It is total escape. It is the avoidance of everything else around you.

It wraps your body in a gentle hug of a cool touch that sometimes turned warm depending on the time of the year and how large a body of water you were in. It would allow you to float, lay back and relax. Dive and let all of the air out of your lungs to listen, listen to nothing. You do have to employee a certain amount of attention. Keeping in mind where you are, the depth and where the surface is. Because no matter how hard you try to float, you might loose your buoyancy. If below, at some point, you have to surface to breathe air.

Since moving to Portland in 1997 and realizing that you can live on the water. I think about it all the time. Some days it feels like if I don’t my life will somehow be short, or cheated of what it is suppose to be. Some days it feels like I want that more than anything.

Back in 2002 or 2003 I read an article that claimed it was water, not oil that was the major cause of war in the Middle East. I don’t have the original article that was in the NY Times. But I did find this at, leinsdorf.com I don’t know who this is, but he has a post that speaks to this very topic. And there is this post.

But I digress and this makes me very unhappy. They have taken my oasis, my retreat and made it a struggle amongst people.

Breath …. Breath

Okay, back to my original thoughts.

Water – Chinese

water
Water – Molecule
640px-water_molecule_3dsvg1
I kind’a like that! Seems kinda floaty! Thank you Wikipedia!

I think it can be said that I like water, pools, lakes, oceans and rivers. That said, my one fear is drowning. For that very reason you won’t find me white water rafting. And not every time but occasionally crossing over a bridge I think about what I would do on the way down if the bridge collapsed in an effort to not drown? If I survived the impact should I leave the windows up or open them? I’m sure I can find that online.

I grew up in Missouri. The largest body of water was a lake. Two actually. Both about 20 minutes away. I now live in Portland. I cross the Willamette River almost every day. I can sit at Island Café and the water is inches below me. I can sit at my friend Mel’s and look down on the river. If I head west on 26, I’m 84.2 miles from the Pacific Ocean.

I don’t drive that 84.2 miles as often as I would like. But I know it’s there, it’s a pretty quick drive. After I saw the ocean for the first time when I was 16, I think from that point that water would have a different meaning for me. I think it made me a bit restless and tentative. I think back now an realize that I drove by or around those two lakes in Missouri more than I thought to be near water.

There is something solitary about it. I’m not saying that I’m seeking solitude. I am fine with it, if it’s on the water.

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don't speak...don't speak!

gonna sell the house and move here

Posted via email from jgx’s posterous

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creative don't speak...don't speak!

working on a new resume

What do you think about this?

resume cloud

Too short? Not specific enough? Ok, what about this?

me20v22009

(disclaimer: just finished second version, checking for errors)

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creative don't speak...don't speak!

Knod who?

Several years ago in my crazy head popped, Knod Knowingly and the Land of Neverbodies. Yeah, that was it. What am I going to do with that? Like everything else, sit on it for several years and talk about writing the story of Knod Knowingly.

Last November a couple of friends signed up for National Write a Novel Month. You attempt to write a novel of 50,000 words in 30 days. I was unemployed, had TONS of time, when would be a better time? Well as confessed to in an earlier post on my blog, I was about 40,000 words short. But it was further than I’ve ever gotten before. And about 5,000 more words that my two friends who said yeah, join us it will be great! We can get together and have writing nights! (insert cricket sound here) I love ya anyway!!

I was a little disappointed that I didn’t stick to the plan of 1,666 words a day. But I think that I have, as one friend said, a good framework for the story.

And on the Science Channel this week I heard something that may have given me the extra element that I was looking for. Only it isn’t going to be what you might think as you read through the some excerpts to set the scene. I’m hoping with this post that I can get back on track with this new information and hit that 50,000 words before this November (sooner I hope), so that I can start fresh this year.

“Knod Knowingly was the first grandchild of his Father’s parents. This afforded him some luxuries that later in life he would think weren’t worth their emotional weight.

Knod was born on the 27th day of November 1900, in the smallest of the three hospitals near the coast. He was named after his Uncle Knute who had narcolepsy. Knod’s family lived life a bit on the whimsical side. In the 1788 (give or take) when his ancestor’s boarded a small boat with about a100 other’s for the United States, their excitement about the possibilities were in check. They were realistic to what their fate might be. Sameness in a new land or true position and purpose in a place they make their own. On their way to the United States in the boat they were on got just a bit off course. They found themselves, as the sun rose one morning heading right for what looked like a small island. It came into view in time to stop before there was any damage to the boat, but not soon enough to stop if from grounding.”

When I decided to have the Knowingly’s be on an island I went to Google in search of just that. The idea is that Knod’s Great-great-grandparents, with several other families board a boat for America in the late 1700’s to early 1800’s. A storm throws them off course and the boat is grounded on an island. It’s not the “perfect storm”, just one bad enough to throw them off course in the night.

Google maps, Ireland then zoom out. See those dots near the bottom toward the right side of the box? Just west of Portugal. Flores Island. What they soon realized was that they could build shelter and homes faster than getting the boat sea worthy again.

Flores

The Island of Flores was discovered in 1450 by Diogo de Teive and his son Joao de Teive. But since this is my story, this group of people discovered it by accident and grounding. They scoured the island while hoping for rescue and found no human live. A few of the men after their expedition around the small island to look for life or help, they returned to the site of the wreck to begin repair on the boat. It was a beautiful island so repairing the boat was a slow process. Not just because it was beautiful sunny and tropical. In order to repair the boat, tree’s and to be cut and planed, etc. And this took time. It was decided since they were the first and no body had ever lived here they named the island Neverbody.

What they didn’t know, because it was deep in the heart of the island, that there was human life.

Now this, for me is a recent development because of that Science Channel show. On the isle of Flores The Mystery of the Human Hobbit, It was the most striking scientific discovery of last year. An entirely new species of mini-human found on an island in Indonesia. Is the hobbit a new species that transforms our view of evolution, or is it simply a very small, modern human being?

Yeah, no I’m not trying to channel Tolkien. Maybe I should read Tolkien so that I don’t cross hairs, mix stories or mythology? I did see some of the movie. So I am most certainly doomed to some similarities. All the more reason to read Tolkien so I can be ever so careful to stay away from it! Damn!

The idea of hobbits is very appealing in a weird way. Not for what they represent, but for another layer in the story. What is driving me is the relationship that Knod has with his family, in particular his Great-Grandmother and how he continues to question and explore, but never really find answers.

I had some friends read it back in December. Thank you! I don’t think they were just being nice? So it gave me a boost to continue. But how…? I don’t know if I add more to the middle or keep going moving forward? Well I guess I have that hobbit think now that can sort of fill in the middle? I certainly have more time to write now that I’m not a slave to Twitter and Facebook! Crazy things!! 139 hours and counting. I might login tomorrow and see what’s up. It’s been a week.

Here’s another excerpt to share.
excerpt; the uncurious adventures of knod knowingly ©

Creative Commons License
The Uncurious Adventures of Knod Knowingly by Jennifer M. Green is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.

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don't speak...don't speak!

jgx’s posterous – What to do, what to do?


jgx’s posterous – What to do, what to do?

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rant

the straw that broke my little twitterfacebookensocialmedialovin camels back

I’ve decided to close Seesmic, TweetDeck and not open Facebook for a while. I saw the light today, or at least for a few minutes it was shining really brightly!

Remember this guy? Insane?
this is insanity

As I write this it’s been about 3.5 hours (now 7:16:25:3) since I looked at or posted to Facebook or Tweeted. Funny, seems longer? HA! It is crack!! ☺

It was crazy to watch Twitter go into over-drive as the news about Michael Jackson came out. News had him dead, then in a coma, and dead again.

Someone tweeted that this will interrupt Twitter more than Iran. I thought, and what does that say? We deal with things that we think we can have some element of control of.

So I tweeted, “One, two. If two is true who is three.” You know the old saying death always comes in three’s. I had forgotten about Ed McMahon. So now there were three.

Many other’s died today I know. Mother’s, Father’s, Brother’s and Sisters. But those three get the news because they are news and now wall to wall coverage. I guess, I’m not watching. I am sure there will be a sea of flowers to film somewhere. A mass of humanity will be mourning someone they didn’t know. Some they listened to or saw in concert, but never really knew them. A song or an action might have made a difference in their life, but they didn’t know them. They knew just what the press told them, real or otherwise.

Then I see this random tweet that says that the actor Jeff Goldblum has died falling from a cliff while filming in New Zealand. The link took about 5 minutes to load. By then I had Googled Goldblum about 8 times with no results. This can’t be? I finally see the “developing story” from some news source in New Zealand, “details to come.” Then I see a tweet that says the Goldblum story is a hoax to drive business to a website.
diane arbus

The straw that broke my little twitterfacebookensocialmedialovin camels back.

I updated Facebook saying that I had seen a crazy tweet about another death, but would not say who until I was able to get some, any kind of confirmation. To which about 12 people quickly responded.

It was then I saw her and heard, “STOP THE INSANITY!” Remember her?
susan powter

So when I got home about an hour ago (4 now). I closed Seesmic, Tweetdeck and closed Facebook windows. And didn’t answer any of the Facebook inquires into, who? Who? They’ve seen it or figured it out by now.

So I’m looking at OPB and listening to the iPod that’s on all the time anyway. And not looking at Twitter or Facebook. I have some pretty good tunes!

I thought this and thought it a weird thought, but Michael Jackson’s death pulls focus from the death of Farrah Fawcett. Which in my opinion is more relevant, more important because of her fight with cancer, our current healthcare situation, etc. This morning the news was about her, cancer, treatments, etc. Tonight;
NPR

We have this amazing tool to communicate with. Yet everyone is so desperate to be the one who is the first to say it (to give the appearance of where they are “in” the loop) that they forget they are part of a conversation, even driving a conversation that has consequences. Ones that can do more harm than good. O.k., “everyone” is big. I know very responsible Tweeter’s.

So I’m going to take a little break. Not for ever, just a while. You might see a post of an article that I find interesting, but I’m not going to log in to Twitter or Facebook for a while. I will look at LinkedIn and read email. I am after all looking for a job, so better keep an eye on that.

I think I’ll blog a bit more and maybe spend some time actually working on that book. I think Knod misses me. Now just what to do with him?

Rest in peace, Ed, Farrah, Michael, Serena, Sky …

Peace out tweeps!

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creative don't speak...don't speak!

A Good Way to Change a Corporate Culture – Peter Bregman – HarvardBusiness.org

A Good Way to Change a Corporate Culture – Peter Bregman – HarvardBusiness.org

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rant

you tell me

I was twuising Twitter last night (6.24) and ran across this profile;

“Stay-at-home, work-from-home mom worried about my children’s future and bitterly clinging to God and my guns.” Great kids and guns always a good combo.

Then I saw this from her, “JUST IN! ABC to unveil new logo!” And attached to it was an odd image of President Obama with the earth as a third eye and squiggly lines wrapping around his face. She also tweeted, “Wonder how MSNBC is feeling tonight after kissing O’s butt for 2 years!! Your not the only state run media any longer…join the crowd!” Huh?

So somehow, news or an attempt at news is now a competition like American Idol or Dance your Fat Ass off. This kind of talk CHAPS me. Mostly because, hold on a second gotta get up on my high horse. This is such an ignorant, ridiculous simple-minded statement that it makes me wonder how this person even knows now to log into a site like Twitter.

I’d like my conservative friends who seem to be quiet lately to explain this stunningly idiotic comment to me. PLEASE!! Enlighten me I am begging you!

So it’s a bad thing for the President of the United States to be on the news, any news to talk about his agenda and answer questions from the people he works for? At this point in his Presidency wasn’t Bush already back at the ranch on vacation chasing Barney and clearing brush?

I also see tonight that Fox News identified Governor Sanford as a Democrat. They must have hired another intern. Seems like every time a finger wagging Republican gets caught with his pants down around his ankles wagging something else he becomes a Democrat.

I have a friend who tells the story of “amnesty night”. While growing up one night a year, usually Christmas eve, she an her brother’s where allowed to tell their parents anything that they had done during the year that would have gotten them in trouble if know when it happened, but not on amnesty night.

So I have an idea. Let’s have an Amnesty Week, or maybe a month to fit everyone in. For that amount of time, Minister’s, Preacher’s, Politicians, CEO’s, Financial Advisor’s, Teacher’s, Doctor’s, Police Chief’s, Librarian’s, Bus Driver’s, everyone get’s to come clean with adult sexual indiscretion, past drug usage, unpaid Nanny taxes, unpaid taxes … I’m sure there are a few more. Make a 24/7 news channel just for this. Advertiser can be, Viagra, KY Jelly, Legal Aid, Cialus, rehab and depression center’s and that guy that sells all the computer training on DVD. Line up new conference after news conference. Let’er rip! You know, one of those where everyone shows up and hooks their microphones to a box that feeds from one source. That way those poor conservative’s won’t think one network is getting special treatment.

Sidebar, if anyone knows Rep. Randy Neugebauer (R) in Texas. Please do us all a favor and walk the several articles and publications over to him that show or confirm Barack Obama’s birth. Since I don’t think there was a document unveiling for all to attend, and Randy has, “never seen him (Obama) produce documents that would say one way or another.” SOMEONE SHOW THIS TOOL, at least get World Net Daily in front of him, so he can move on.

Visit msnbc.com for Breaking News, World News, and News about the Economy

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rant

Shannyn Moore: Top 10 Reasons Sarah Palin’s “Outrage” is Misplaced and A Little Late…

Shannyn Moore: Top 10 Reasons Sarah Palin’s “Outrage” is Misplaced and A Little Late…

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