The night has a thousand eyes,
And the day but one;
Yet the light of the bright world dies
With the dying sun.
The mind has a thousand eyes,
And the heart but one:
Yet the light of a whole life dies
When love is done.
—Francis William Bourdillon (1852–1921)
Editor’s note: Links affixed to author/publisher names will redirect to social media or personal website of the author/publisher. Links affixed to story/article names will redirect to the named story/article.
INDEPENDENT AUTHORS
From John Parham, The Old Man & The Three Legged Goat. The story of a young man, down on his luck, who encounters a strange old man and his three legged goat. Whilst the story is interesting and the message poignant, the dialogue and particularly the descriptions, suffer from a peculiar kind of stiffness engendered by repetition. For example, the amount of times that we are told that Curly “sipped his coffee” is quite superfluous; the author could simply have said, “Curly sat sipping his coffee” and that would have sufficed. That being said, repetition can be used to create rhythm, as in the works of Cormac McCarthy, however, in McCarthy the repition is limited (generally to “and”s and “left off”s) and occurs fluidly in the space of a single sentence and consequently, one shouldn’t take up a stance against it, in totality.
“Please sit and I will pour you a cup of coffee, then tell me about the three-legged goat.”
— The Old Man & The Three Legged Goat
INDEPENDENT PUBLISHERS
From 101 Words, The Crossing by Philip Scholz, a flash fiction about a man fleeing to Mexico. I’d say more but I wouldn’t want to spoil it.
“Your passport, please,” the guard said, holding out his hand.
He handed over the fake one, hoping his shaking hand wasn’t noticed. This was the test. He had to stay calm.
— The Crossing
From The Arcanist, Plunk At The Foot Of The Mountain by Peter Hurtgen. A tale of a vicious barbarian possessed of a deep-seated hatred for magic. Its a interesting piece of dark fantasy, humorous as it is thoughtful; a cautionary tale against being too quick to take action against that which one does not fully understand.
He was a boy of about eight. Before the Trying Times. The magic user was a young girl from the nearby village. A little older. The tinsmith’s daughter. A black-haired beauty. Tall and graceful. Wild and bronze. She cast a love spell on Plunk. She made him love her. They kissed in the yak barn hayloft. This made Plunk very happy. Then the girl used her love spell on another village boy. This pissed Plunk the fuck off. Plunk found the two lovers in the hayloft and separated them. From their heads.
— Plunk At The Foot Of The Mountain
From Drunken Pen Writing, Coffee Shop Blues by Caleb James K.; Mr. K’s prose is impressive for being able to turn as mundane an exercise as waiting in line for a cup of coffee into a introspective and engaging exploration of social disenchantment, charity and purpose. Easily the best of the week.
The world moved in slow motion as Jeff waited in the seemingly endless line at the coffee shop. It was like he was in a dream—like he was an unseen spectator watching the world move around him. He saw the faces of men and women, young and old, but couldn’t make out any details.
— Coffee Shop Blues
From Fictive Dream, Family Gathering by Paul Beckman. Title self-explanatory.
The laughers come first. They always arrive early and announce their early arrival to the hostess who isn’t ready yet for company.
— Family Gathering
From Monkeybicycle, The Next Life You’ll Make by Ellen Rhudy. A sad, poignant ghost tale.
I imagined they had a graveyard behind the hospital crowded with people who had never quite been alive. — The Next Life You’ll Make
From The Molotov Cocktail, The River Wedding by Tim Roberts. A dreamlike tale of horror and desire.
When The Big Night finally comes around, I lay awake waiting for the demons to take my father.
— The River Wedding
From Reflex Press, Strawberry Tarts and Serial Killers by Mary Thompson. A brisk sketch of the life of two lovers in a sleepy town (not actually about serial killers).
In August I left to be an au-pair in Amiens. Said I would write.
‘You won’t,’ he said.
— Strawberry Tarts and Serial Killers
From Spelk Fiction, Liquid Gold In Big Sky by Michael Carter. A tale of a hard-up family seeking gold beyond the American plains. Beautifully written.
“We’ll stop in Helena to see if they’ve struck gold again. Then we’ll make our way to Carson City, Nevada, to see if they have gold there. We’ll buy food with the gold, and you’ll all be full.”
I said, “Maybe there’s gold here?”
Mother said, “No, sweetie, there’s no gold out here in the Plains.”
— Liquid Gold in Big Sky
From Terror House, The Maggot Life by Nick Willis. The story of one man struggling within his own moral vacuum. The piece is raw, punchy and likely more than a little autobiographical. Highly recommended.
I can almost see the voracious, amoral little worm squirming around at the core of me, at the core of all of us: it’s what keeps us alive.
— The Maggot Life
From X-R-A-Y, Robot Mother by Brittany Weeks. A surreal tale with a experimental style, somewhat disorienting style.
I can’t shake the image of Everly with mechanical valves in her heart-
— Robot Mother
LITERARY EPHEMERA
From The Allium, Pandas “Totally Relieved” None Of Their Body Parts Made Of Anything Valuable.
A Panda spokesperson told The Allium earlier today that there was general relief in Panda communities that their body parts are valued at actual zero. Even in Sterling.
— Pandas “Totally Relieved” None Of…
Author, James Kirkland announces the release of his first novel Friend of the Devil.
Very pleased to announce that my first novel, “FRIEND OF THE DEVIL”, A Bill Walton Mystery, will be released March 13 by Meathouse Publishing. Excited for you all to see this. I’ve worked very hard and I hope you will enjoy! — J. Kirkland
Lastly, inimitable Jokes Review editor, Peter Clarke (Politicians Are Superheroes) participates in a roundtable discussion over at The Review Review on the subject of editorial practice. Specific topics include how far into a bad manuscript one should read before passing it over and whether or not a poor title disqualifies a manuscript. Insight for writers and editors alike.
At the very minimum, I’ll read the first paragraph and then skim to the end. I have scrapped stories based on the title and the first sentence, but that’s rare. Generally speaking, I don’t dedicate much time to stories that don’t catch me pretty quickly. The vast majority of my time reading submissions (probably 90%) is spent fretting over the stories that definitely demanded a full read but may or may not demand publication. If I’m already thinking about rejection after the first paragraph, then I’m probably just going to reject it.
— Peter Clarke, Managing Editor, Jokes Review
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Its’, It’s and Its are some of the most commonly used (and misused) three letter word-forms in English. To use them properly it should be understood that its’ is always incorrect to use, thus anytime you see you’re writing its’, substitute it for either “it’s” or “its” depending on what the sentence requires.
It’s and Its, however, are proper, provided the context it right. Before one can use them, however, one has to be clear on the simple, but counterintuitive, difference between both words, which are as follows:
It’s means “it is” and “it has.”
Its is a possessive form and denotes ownership; for example: “This place has lost its charm.”
This can be confusing because possession is generally denoted via the form which it’s takes, that is to say, if instead of, “This place has lost its charm,” one were to write, “Kyle’s lost his charm,” an apostrophe would be used between “Kyle” and the “s” whereas with “its” no apostrophe is added. The reason for this is due to the fact that possessive pronouns are never written with an apostrophe because they already imply ownership (ie. it was his; the cake was hers; this house is ours; please keep it, its yours).
With all of this in mind, it should be easy to correct the its’-it’s-its confusion in one’s writing.
A idiom is a collection of words that means something other than it would seem, or rather, a group of words whose meaning is different to the individual meanings entailed by the words themselves. Popular American idioms include:
The phrases presented above, however, are only those which are quite popular; below we will turn our attention to English idioms which are considerably more uncommon, which shall serve to both increase the depth and breadth of one’s fiction-writing resources and increase the understandability of older texts whose authors had occasion to utilize time or region specific idioms.
Let us know in the comments if you’ve any interesting and unusual idioms that you think should be included.
One of the most irascible words in the English language is the American neologism, irregardless, popularized during the 20th Century and meaning: without consideration; or, not needing to allow for; or, heedless; or, without reguard. The word is a combination of both irrespective and regardless, which raises a rather peculiar problem, namely, that both of the base-words are synonyms, thus, engendering a double-negative.
Since both irrespective and regardless mean, roughly, “heedless,” when one is saying irregardless, what one is actually saying is heedless of heedless, or, more exactly, irrespective of disregard OR without without reguard.
Since here, one is disreguarding their disreguard, they are, in effect, maintaining their reguard (provided they had some to begin with), however, this is the precise opposite of the meaning entailed in the casual (as opposed to literal) usage of “irreguardless.”
The solution to this arcane conundrum is, thankfully, quite a simple one: don’t use the word. Both irrespective and regardless are synonyms to this confusing adverb, and hence, can take its place without any linguistic confusion UNLESS one is writing fiction and one is emulating a certain regional dialect.
Hath (hæθ), sometimes heth, is a interesting word whom most avid fiction readers or students of history have chanced across. Hath comes from the Old English hæfþ (“has”) which comes from the Proto-Germanic habaiþi (“has”). In its common, Middle English and latter usage, hath is a third person, singular present tense of have (i.e. haveth) that can be used in relation to a man (he), woman (she) or thing (it), thus, it is a synonym of has (hast may also be utilized as a substitute). Example:
“He hath no knowledge of the broil.” (“He has no knowledge of the fight”)
According to the very excellent Collins English Dictionary, hath was in common and quite popular usage from 1708 to around 1888, where use of the word began to markedly fall off.
However, before one goes about hath-ing your haves, it bares mentioning that, to the Irish, hath has a secondary use and meaning as a mirthful exclamation. Thus, in some Irish literature (most of it archaic) hath! does not have the English meaning of have/has but rather, means instead, “ha!” or “huh!”
♦
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E. M. Forster once said, “English literature is a flying fish.” Logos has gone fishing and below provides the bounty of our catch.
absquatulate — to leave somewhere abruptly
adscititious — additional
anfractuous — winding or circuitous
anguilliform — resembling an eel
apple-knocker — (US informal) an ignorant or unsophisticated person
argle-bargle — copious but meaningless talk or writing
argute — shrewd
astrobleme — an eroded remnant of a large, ancient crater made by the impact of a meteorite or comet
barn burner — (N. Amer.) a very exciting or dramatic event, especially a sports contest; first used in relation to an exceptionally good hand at bridge
benthos — the flora and fauna on the bottom of a sea or lake
bergschrund — a type of crevasse
bezoar — a small hard, solid mass which may form in the stomachs of animals such as goats or sheep
bibliopole — a person who buys and sells books, especially rare ones
bilboes — an iron bar with sliding shackles, used to fasten prisoners’ ankles
bindlestiff — (N. Amer.) a tramp
bingle — (Austral. informal) a collision
blatherskite — a person who talks at great length without making much sense
bobsy-die — a great deal of fuss or trouble
boffola — (N. Amer. informal) a joke that gets a loud or hearty laugh
boilover — (Austral. informal) a surprise result in a sporting event
borborygmus — a rumbling or gurgling noise in the intestines
bruxism — involuntary and habitual grinding of the teeth
bumbo — a drink of rum, sugar, water, and nutmeg
burnsides — a moustache in combination with whiskers on the cheeks but no beard on the chin
cacoethes — an urge to do something inadvisable
callipygian — having shapely buttocks
callithumpian — like a discordant band or a noisy parade
camisado — a military attack carried out at night
canorous — melodious or resonant
cantillate — to chant or intone a passage of religious text
carphology — convulsive or involuntary movements made by delirious patients, such as plucking at the bedclothes
catoptromancy — foretelling the future by means of a mirror
cereology — the study or investigation of crop circles
chad — a piece of waste paper produced by punching a hole
chalkdown — (S. African informal) a teachers’ strike
chiliad — a thousand things or a thousand years
claggy — (Brit. dialect) sticky or able to form sticky lumps
clepsydra — an early clock using the flow of water into or out of a container
colporteur — a person who peddles books, newspapers, or other writings
commensalism — an association between two organisms in which one benefits from the relationship and the other derives neither harm nor benefit
comminatory — threatening, punitive, or vengeful
concinnity — elegance or neatness of literary or artistic style
coprolalia — the involuntary repetitive use of obscene language
coriaceous — like leather
couthy — (Scottish; of a person) warm and friendly; (of a place) cosy and comfortable
criticaster — a minor or incompetent critic
crottle — a lichen used in Scotland to make a brownish dye for wool
croze — a groove at the end of a cask or barrel in which the head is fixed
cudbear — a purple or violet powder used for dyeing, made from lichen
cupreous — of or like copper
cyanic — blue; azure
dariole — a small round metal mould used in French cooking for an individual sweet or savoury dish
deasil — clockwise or in the direction of the sun’s course
decubitus — (Medicine) the posture of someone who is lying down or lying in bed
deedy — industrious or effective
defervescence — (Medicine) the lessening of a fever
deglutition — the action or process of swallowing
degust — to taste food or drink carefully, so as to fully appreciate it
deipnosophist — a person skilled in the art of dining and dinner-table conversation
dight — clothed or equipped; to make something ready for use
disembogue — to emerge or pour out (used of a river or stream)
disenthral — to set someone free from enslavement
divagate — to stray or digress
divaricate — to stretch or spread apart
donkey engine — a small auxiliary engine on a ship
donkeyman — a man working in a ship’s engine room
doryphore — a pedantic and annoyingly persistent critic of others
douceur — a financial inducement or bribe
draff — dregs or refuse
dumbsize — to reduce the staff numbers of a company to such low levels that work can no longer be carried out effectively
dwaal — (S. African) a dreamy, dazed, or absent-minded state
ecdysiast — a striptease performer
edacious — that which is fond of eating
emacity — fondness for buying things
ensorcell — to enchant or fascinate someone
entomophagy — the eating of insects, especially by people
erf — (S. African) a plot of land
ergometer — an apparatus which measures energy expended during physical exercise
erubescent — reddening or blushing
eucatastrophe — a happy ending to a story
eviternity — eternal existence or everlasting duration
exequies — funeral rites
exsanguine — bloodless or anaemic
extramundane — outside or beyond the physical world
flews — the thick pendulous lips of a bloodhound or similar dog
floccinaucinihilipilification — the action or habit of estimating something as worthless
flocculent — having or resembling tufts of wool
forehanded — (chiefly N. Amer.) prudent or thrifty
frondeur — a political rebel
fugacious — transient or fleeting
funambulist — a tightrope walker
furuncle — a boil
fuscous — dark and sombre in colour
futz — to waste time or busy oneself aimlessly
gaberlunzie — (Scottish archaic) a beggar
gaita — a kind of bagpipe played in northern Spain and Portugal
gallus — (Scottish) bold or daring
gasconade — extravagant boasting
glabrous — (of skin) hairless or (of a leaf) having no down
glaikit — (Scottish & N. English) stupid, foolish, or thoughtless
gnathic — having to do with the jaws
gobemouche — a gullible or credulous listener
guddle — (Scottish) to fish with one’s hands by groping under the stones or banks of a stream
habile — deft or skilful
haruspex — a religious official in ancient Rome who inspected the entrails of sacrificial animals in order to foretell the future
hirquiticke — “one past fourteene yeeres of age, beginning to bee moved with Venus delight” (Henry Cockeram, An English Dictionary, 1623)
hoddy-noddy — a foolish person
hodiernal — of today
howff — (Scottish) a favourite meeting place or haunt, especially a pub
humdudgeon — an imaginary illness
hwyl — a stirring feeling of emotional motivation and energy which is associated with the Welsh people
illywhacker — (Austral. informal) a small-time confidence trickster
incrassate — thickened in form or consistency
incunabula — books printed before 1501
ingurgitate — to swallow something greedily
inspissate — to thicken or congeal
inunct — to apply ointment to someone or something
jumbuck — (Austral. informal) a sheep
jumentous — resembling horse’s urine
keek — (Scottish) to peep surreptitiously
kenspeckle — (Scottish) conspicuous or easily recognizable
kinnikinnick — substance consisting of dried sumac leaves and willow or dogwood bark, smoked by North American Indians
kylie — (Austral.) a boomerang
labaruma — banner or flag bearing symbolic motifs
logomachy — an argument about words
lollygag — to spend time in an aimless or lazy way
luculent — (of speech or writing) clearly expressed
macushla — Irish an affectionate form of address
meacock — a coward or effeminate person
merkin — artificial covering of hair for the pubic area
merrythought — a bird’s wishbone
mim — (Scottish) modest or demure in an affected or priggish way
mimsy — rather feeble and prim or over-restrained (coined by Lewis Carroll in Through the Looking Glass)
minacious — menacing or threatening
misogamy — the hatred of marriage
mistigris — joker or other extra card played as a wild card in some versions of poker
mollitious — luxurious or sensuous
monkey’s wedding — (S. African) simultaneous rain and sunshine
mouse potato — a person who spends large amounts of their leisure or working time on a computer
mudlark — person who scavenges in riverside mud at low tide for anything of value
muktuk — the skin and blubber of a whale, eaten by the Inuit people
nacarat — a bright orange-red colour
nagware — computer software which is free for a trial period and thereafter frequently reminds the user to pay for it
natation — swimming
noctambulist — a sleepwalker
noyade — an execution carried out by drowning
nugacity — triviality or frivolity
nympholepsy — passion or rapture aroused in men by beautiful young girls
obnubilate — to darken, dim, or obscure something
ogdoad — a group or set of eight
omophagy — the eating of raw food, especially meat
omphalos — the centre or hub of something
onolatry — the worship of donkeys
operose — involving or displaying a lot of effort
opsimath — a person who begins to learn or study late in life
orectic — having to do with desire or appetite
orrery — a clockwork model of the solar system, or the sun, earth, and moon
ortanique — a cross between an orange and a tangerine
otalgia — earache
paludal — living or occurring in a marshy habitat
panurgic — able or ready to do anything
parapente — aerofoil parachute, used for gliding
parapha — flourish after a signature
patulous — (of the boughs of a tree, for example) spreading
pavonine — to do with or resembling a peacock
pedicular — to do with lice
peely-wally — (Scottish) looking pale and unwell
peever — (Scottish) hopscotch
periapt — an item worn as a charm or amulet
petcock — a small valve in a steam engine or boiler, used for drainage or for reducing pressure
peterman — a person who breaks open and robs safes
pettitoes — pig’s trotters, especially as food
piacular — making or requiring atonement
pilgarlic — a bald-headed man, or a person regarded with mild contempt
pinguid — resembling fat; oily or greasy
piscatorial — connected with fishermen or fishing
pleurodynia — severe pain in the muscles between the ribs or in the diaphragm
plew — a beaver skin
pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis — an invented term said to mean ‘a lung disease caused by inhaling very fine ash and sand dust’
pogey — (Canadian informal) unemployment or welfare benefit
pollex — (Anatomy) the thumb
pooter — a suction bottle for collecting insects and other small invertebrates
portolan — a book containing sailing directions with hand-drawn charts and descriptions of harbours and coasts
posology — branch of medicine concerned with the size and frequency of doses of a medicine or a drug
possident — a possessor, i.e. a person who owns something
pother — a commotion or fuss
pre-loved — second-hand
presenteeism — the compulsion to spend longer at work than is required or to continue working despite illness
previse — to foresee or predict an event
probang — a strip of flexible material with a sponge or tuft at the end, used to remove a foreign body from the throat or to apply medication to it
prosopagnosia — an inability to recognize the faces of familiar people, typically as a result of brain damage
puddle jumper — a small, light aircraft which is fast and highly manoeuvrable and used for short trips
puddysticks — (S. African) children’s word very easy
pyknic — a technical description of a stocky physique with a rounded body and head, thickset trunk, and a tendency to fat
pyroclastic — relating to fragments of rock erupted by a volcano
ragtop — a convertible car with a soft roof
ratite — (of a bird such as the ostrich or emu) unable to fly because of having a flat breastbone, to which no flight muscles are attached
rawky — foggy, damp, and cold
razzia — a raid carried out by Moors in North Africa
rebirthing — a form of therapy involving controlled breathing and intended to simulate the trauma of being born
resurrection man — a person who, in past times, illicitly exhumed corpses from burial grounds and sold them to anatomists for dissection
retiform — resembling a net
rhinoplasty — plastic surgery performed on the nose
rubiginous — rust-coloured
rubricate — to add elaborate capital letters (typically red ones) or other decorations to a manuscript
rude boy — Jamaican a lawless or rebellious unemployed urban youth who likes ska or reggae music
rug rat — (N. Amer.) a child
rumpot — (N. Amer.) a habitual or heavy drinker
sangoma — a traditional healer or witch doctor in southern Africa
sarmie — (S. African informal) a sandwich
saucier — a sauce chef
saudade — a feeling of longing or melancholy that is supposedly characteristic of the Portuguese or Brazilian temperament
scofflaw — a person who flouts the law
screenager — a person in their teens or twenties who has an aptitude for using computers and the Internet
scrippage — one’s baggage and personal belongings
selkie — (Scottish) a mythical sea creature like a seal in water but human on land
serac — a pinnacle or ridge of ice on the surface of a glacier
sesquipedalian — (of a word) having many syllables or (of a piece of writing) using many long words
shallop — a light sailing boat used chiefly for coastal fishing
shamal — a hot, dry north-westerly wind that blows across the Persian Gulf in summer and causes sandstorms
shavetail — (US military slang) a newly commissioned officer, or any inexperienced person
shippon — (Brit. dialect) a cattle shed
shofar — a ram’s-horn trumpet used in Jewish religious ceremonies and, in ancient times, to sound a battle signal
skanky — (N. Amer. informal) revolting
skelf — (Scottish) a splinter or sliver of wood
skimmington — a kind of procession once undertaken to make an example of a nagging wife or an unfaithful husband
skycap — a porter at an airport
snakebitten — (N. Amer. informal) unlucky or doomed to misfortune
snollygoster — a shrewd or unprincipled person
sockdolager — (US informal) a heavy blow
solander — a protective box made in the form of a book, for holding items such as botanical specimens, maps, and colour plates
soucouyant — a kind of witch, in eastern Caribbean folklore, who is believed to shed her skin by night and suck the blood of her victims
soul case — (N. Amer. & W. Indian) the human body
soul catcher — a hollowed bone tube used by a North American Indian medicine man to keep a sick person’s soul safe while they are sick
spaghettification — the process by which (in some theories) an object would be stretched and ripped apart by gravitational forces on falling into a black hole
spitchcock — an eel, split and then grilled or fried
splanchnic — having to do with the the viscera or internal organs, especially those of the abdomen
spurrier — a person who makes spurs
stercoraceous — consisting of or resembling dung or faeces
sternutator — something that causes sneezing
stiction — the frictional force which hinders an object from being moved while in contact with another
strappado — a punishment or torture in which the victim was hoisted in the air on a rope and then allowed to fall almost to the ground before being stopped with an abrupt jerk
strigil — an instrument with a curved blade used by ancient Greeks and Romans to scrape sweat and dirt from the skin in a hot-air bath or after exercise
struthious — having to do with or resembling an ostrich
studmuffin — (N. Amer. humorous) a sexually attractive, muscular man
stylite — a early Christian ascetic who lived standing on top of a pillar
subfusc — the dark formal clothing worn for examinations and ceremonial or formal occasions at some universities.
submontane — passing under or through mountains, or situated on the lower slopes of a mountain range
succuss — to shake something vigorously, especially a homeopathic remedy
sudd — an area of floating vegetation that impedes navigation in a stretch of the White Nile
suedehead — a youth like a skinhead but with slightly longer hair and smarter clothes
sun-grazing — (of a comet) having an orbit which passes close to the sun
superbious — proud and overbearing
superette — (N. Amer.) a small supermarket
taniwha — a mythical monster which, according to Maori legend, lives in very deep water
tappen — the plug by which the rectum of a bear is closed during hibernation
tellurian — of or inhabiting the earth, or an inhabitant of the earth
testudo — a device used in siege warfare in ancient Rome, consisting of a wheeled screen with an arched roof (literally a ‘tortoise’)
thalassic — relating to the sea
thaumatrope — a scientific toy devised in the 19th century. It consisted of a disc with a different picture on each of its two sides: when the disc was rotated rapidly about a diameter, these pictures appeared to combine into one image.
thirstland — (S. African) a desert or large arid area
thrutch — (N. English) a narrow gorge or ravine
thurifer — a person carrying a censer, or thurible, of burning incense during religious ceremonies
tigon — the hybrid off spring of a male tiger and a lioness (the offspring of a male lion and a tigress being a liger)
tokoloshe — in African folklore, a mischievous and lascivious hairy water sprite
toplofty — (N. Amer. informal) haughty and arrogant
transpicuous — transparent
triskaidekaphobia — extreme superstition about the number thirteen
triskelion — a Celtic symbol consisting of three radiating legs or curved lines, such as the emblem of the Isle of Man
turbary — the legal right to cut turf or peat for fuel on common ground or on another person’s ground
umbriferous — shady
uncinate — (of a part of the body) having a hooked shape
uniped — a person or animal with only one foot or leg
uroboros — a circular symbol depicting a snake (or a dragon) swallowing its tail, intended as an emblem of wholeness or infinity
vagarious — erratic and unpredictable in behaviour or direction
velleity — a wish or inclination which is not strong enough to lead one to take action
verjuice — a sour juice obtained from crab apples or unripe grapes
vicinal — neighbouring or adjacent
vidiot — (N. Amer. informal) a habitual, undiscriminating watcher of television or videotapes
vomitous — (N. Amer.) nauseating or repulsive
wabbit — (Scottish) exhausted or slightly unwell
waitron — (N. Amer.) a waiter or waitress
wakeboarding — the sport of riding on a short, wide board while being towed behind a motor boat
wayzgoose — an annual summer party and outing that used to be held by a printing house for all its employees
winebibber — a heavy drinker
wish book — (N. Amer. informal) a mail-order catalogue
wittol — a man who knows of and tolerates his wife’s infidelity
woopie — an affluent retired person able to pursue an active lifestyle (from the initials of well-off older person)
wowser — (chiefly Austral./NZ) a puritanical, prudish person or a killjoy
xenology — the scientific study of extraterrestrial phenomena
ylem — (in big bang theory) the primordial matter of the universe
zetetic — proceeding by inquiry or investigation
zoolatry — the worship of animals
zopissa — a medicinal preparation made from wax and pitch scraped from the sides of ships
zorro — a South American kind of fox
Zyrian — a former term for Komi, a language spoken in an area of Russia west of the Urals
Regular readers may have seen that we have complied a free ebook of some of our best past writing. Shortly, a second volume will be added focusing solely on political/aesthetic manifestos, many of which will be unique to the book and will not have been previously published on the site.
In the coming months the Logos Club will be ramping up its efforts at hard-copy (paper & pulp) publication and *may* begin offering hard-copy books in limited quantity.
As always, thank you for your patronage and happy reading.
Putting aside many of the age-old questions concerning the validity of the concept of Human Nature one can with absolute certainty say that there are Human Universals, that is, Human Generalities. Everyone who exists was born and everyone who was born will die. Everyone feels the pangs of hunger and thirst, of dread and envy, jealousy and admiration, lust and love, of purpose and purposelessness. This is so easily observable that is wholly beyond contention (“but what if we are all brains in a vat in a vast simulation?!” Some cheeky fellow will doubtless interject at some point – mischievous rogues).
The acceptance of this a priori supposition then establishes some very fertile ground for purpose in fiction. Purpose is the first and most fundamental thing any given writer should ask him or herself before proceeding with a given piece of work (indeed it is the first of things which one should ask oneself before doing anything). “Why am I doing what I am doing? Why do I write stories at all? What do I wish to convey in it’s pages?” (and it should here be noted that if one does not wish to convey anything at all then there is no point in writing to begin with, the art that is only for the self and goes not beyond might as well stay contained within the brain! What is it then but a dream?) “What is the purpose of my art?”
Naturally, only you, the reader, can answer such questions in their particulars but there are some general principals that might help us better establish and define our aims as fiction writers. First and foremost among those principals is that if a story does not speak, in some meaningful way, to any Human Universals, then it simply will not be read with any regularity – or even if it is, it certainly isn’t going to be remembered (indeed, why should it?). But it isn’t enough merely to speak to the human soul, as it were, but also to do so in a clear and cogent way, that is to say, a understandable way. It is, of course, fine enough to write for a specific audience in mind (the case of Nietzsche’s Thus Spoke Zarathustra is here illustrative: his work was oft found difficult to interpret at best and downright incomprehensible at worst; the US literary critic, Harold Bloom described Nietzsche’s only fiction entry as “unreadable”).
Writing with a specific audience in mind is highly recommended; however, writing in such a way that no one but one’s own self and some small cadre of philologists and linguists (such would be the kind to say, Underworld is a masterpiece because despite it’s endless meandering without coming to a point, DeLillo is very good at making symbolic representations of waste-fixation as a American by-product which lays bear the soul of the post-industrial age – or some such tosh) is hardly the way to go for the simple fact that one is then, essentially writing in another language which will be totally incomprehensible to the common man and often, to the not-so-common man as well.
There is a tendency among post-modern novelists to zealously seek after originality at the expense of anything else (not all post-modern artists are guilty of this, obviously, but it is a general trend I have observed) and that anything else is generally a coherent and clear theme (again, DeLillo is a supreme example of this, he writes a lot of words but rarely says anything; there are implications, suggestions galore, but everything is tangential to something else which isn’t defined, or if so, poorly. Everything is obscured and referential, so much so that the obscure references and the inertia of his language itself become the whole point of the text – though he does, of course, have his high points).
This is a tendency to be avoid if you wish to approach art as a form of social communication (it seems lost on modern man that this was the purpose of nearly all ancient art – not the selfish, narcissistic impulse to stroke the ego that says, “Look at me! I feel something fragile and fleeting; observe it nonetheless, for such is my importance!” – but rather the communal sharing of a given societies highest ideals and aspirations for the purposes of civilizational lift).
Once one has acquired the knack for both clarity and purpose (and clarity of purpose) one should turn the mind’s eye to the directionality of the story itself. It matters not how far from terrestrial reality one flies upon the back of that great bird, creativity – whether you are writing about ancient dragons, or orcs, or cosmic horrors – certain human factors will always remain visible to be plucked out by the discerning no matter how phantasmal, grotesque or fantastical the setting, plot, characters or dialogue. Why is this – because you aren’t a dragon a orc or a cosmic horror, how could you possibly think as one?!
[to be continued in part. 3]
I like what I do. Some writers have said in print that they hated writing and it was just a chore and a burden. I certainly don’t feel that way about it. Sometimes it’s difficult. You know, you always have this image of the perfect thing which you can never achieve, but which you never stop trying to achieve. But I think … that’s your signpost and your guide. You’ll never get there, but without it you won’t get anywhere.
– Cormac McCarthy, Jun. 1, 2008
Fiction writing is often perceived, and subsequently spoken of, as if it were some magical art, some eldritch and impenetrable ability of numinous convocation which arrives and departs from the conscious mind like a furious blast of ball-lightening (which, interestingly enough, are theorized to be responsible for the numerous cases of real spontaneous combustion throughout history). Whilst reaching towards (and ultimately grasping) the numinous should be the end goal of all of the higher forms of fiction, it is a mistake to view the craft as solely the providence of arcane geniuses, as a venture which can only be undertook at the precise moment of inspiration.
Inspiration is all fine and dandy but it is wholly insufficient in and of itself to create a substantial work of art. A work of fiction which is nothing but inspirationally driven is one which is wholly impulsively driven; it is much the same as a grand and beautifully crafted ship without its rudder! It might well inspire a kind of awe but it won’t be able to move an inch and will invariably capsize in the coming storm, lost to all and every man beneath the thunderous swell of bio-hum. There is also the problem of time in relation to a work of fiction; whilst it is never wise to make haste when writing a novel or short story for the sake of speed itself there must also be reasonable timetables set forth for the writer if he or she is ever to finish the project upon which they are so arduously plying their talents. It is a highly romanticized conception of the writer as a powerfully minded yet tragically underappreciated soul which ultimately leads to nothing but stagnation. If you aren’t a genius or a consistent partaker in Ginsbergesque ritualism then it is highly unlikely that bold and evocative inspiration sufficient to carry the entirety of setting, plot, characters and theme will oft strike; this is, in no wise, a bad thing!
Contrary to the romanticized American conception of the fiction writer, he treats his work in much the same fashion as might a lumberjack or gas station clerk. He gets up early, takes notes, watches his time, writers consistently (preferably daily) and passionately and has a distinct objective in mind whilst he is doing so. That is, if he wishes to be a successful writer in the total sense of the term, meaning, successful both financially and, far more importantly, artistically. It is here I would offer some mild advice to those amongst you who aspire to write fiction in any wise (hopefully without being too boorish in so doing).
Now that we have that out of the way we shall turn our attention to the actual structure of a story and what it is that makes certain stories standout, that is, what makes them good. To speak not at all about any particular theme, a truly great work of art will always deal with three things: sex, violence and death. It is my opinion that any work of art which deals not at all with this omnipresent trio of human universals is not worthy of one’s time or, indeed, of really being called a work of art at all.
[to be continued in prt.2]
The Logos Club here presents a brief list of links to some of this weeks most enlightening, amusing and incisive pieces of writing from all across the web.
First up is
which comes to us from the talented Hubert Collins of Social Matter. The piece is a ironic, caustic how-to list of dos and don’ts for how to become successful as a communist in contemporary Wiemerica. Mr. Collins amusingly notes,
E. Don’t stake out a firm position on immigration policy. While conservatives who oppose immigration are racists, identitarians who favor open borders don’t understand how that depresses wages. Never note both of these things at once–do so separately to hide your uncertainty about what to do about it.
Though one criticism we had of the piece was that he also writes,
F. Do be opaque. Use lots of jargon and obscure references to ensure newcomers won’t be able to just dive in. Throw around lots of words and phrases from grad school like: hegemony, false consciousness, late capitalism, conjuncture, etc.
NRx does precisely this (with good reason) and I’ve not heard much of an outcry about it. Though we here at the Logos are not mind-readers one might perhaps venture to guess that his point of contention was due to the fact that the socialist/post-modernist critic of the left has no precise demographic in mind whilst building his eldritch lexicon and merely does so for affectation and spectacle rather than effective communication.
At any rate it is a highly recommended piece and one that incisively dismantles much of the anti-dem Leftist project.
Next up is
from the insightful individuals over at EvolutionistX which chronologically details some of the origins of the resurgence of McCarthyite, Russian paranoia within the United States. Brief, but insightful, especially to those who may not follow politics with any regularity. Anon notes,
Russia is bad because they oppose US efforts to install Islamic fundamentalist governments in the Middle East, because they oppose gay marriage, and because taking Crimea is basically the same as Hitler’s invasion of Poland.
Russia is full of hackers. Assange is a Russian agent since he publishes information leaked from the US. Trump is a Russian agent since he opposes war with Russia.
Well… that’s neocon reasoning for you.
Last up is easily the strangest but most unique entry in the list, Steel-Carmelism vs. Steel-anachism from Imperial Energy, a very interesting site dedicated to historically rigorous political theory (namely, Steel-carmelism). As one might assume from the title, the monograph deals primarily with the similarities and differences between Steel-carmelism and Steel-anarchism to determine which holds more future promise. Sites such as IE are exceptionally valuable as they offer a positive vision rather than merely negative critique (invaluable though it is) like the vast bulk of dissident/reactionary political/philosophical websites one is likely to encounter. Here IE critiques neoreactionary statecraft whilst simultaneously remarking upon the division of powers.
Divided power results in a weak, insecure, central power. This power will, nevertheless, immediately begin to centralise and consolidate its power by subverting, destroying and or absorbing all the other centres of power which prevent it from carrying out its four “feeding” functions. The paradoxical conclusion that neoreactionaries posit, however, is to remove as many barriers as possible for the state to achieve its functions – to have its “feed.”
For its sprawling incisiveness, Logos acknowledges Steel-carmelism vs. Steel-anarchism as its most highly recommended of the week.
/////Logos Literature 