I wrote a fanfic for the daily prompt on The Community Storyboard – all in good fun. 🙂
Lots of great writing there by different authors – go and have a read!
Author Archives: Linda G. Hill
Grammar
So I’m taking this grammar course. It’s necessary for the college certificate I’m aiming to get, in order to put something ‘professional’ on my resume, for me to take this course. I always thought my grammar was pretty good. Yes, I’ve learned a few things, such as the fact that if you’re quoting even the name of something at the end of a sentence, you should put the period inside the quotation marks. The same goes for a comma. That’s fine – I was bound to learn something new.
My problem is this: for my final assignment in this course, I have to write two grammatically correct paragraphs. No problem, right?
Wrong! In fact, SO wrong!
This course is making me question everything I learned in grade 7 English. Who knew there were eleven types of verbs? Now that I’m learning about all these different parts and tenses and exceptions and everything else on top, I’m almost afraid to speak, let alone write! And I have to construct something that’s going to be marked?
I’m a mess!
Advice? Anyone?
If Only
Go to The Community Storyboard; read this (my poetry) and more! 😀
Adventures on my Paper Route – Angry Birds and a Plucking
It’s been a while since I last had anything to post about on my paper route. Of late my walk around the block has been lacking in anything adventurous… but now I have two things to report!
First, one of my customers has a robin’s nest tucked into the corner of the overhang above his front door where the mailbox is located. Every day I’m dive-bombed by an anxious male robin when I try to deliver the paper. Who knew male robins could be so aggressive? I would never hurt it, but it flies so close to my head that all I would need to do is raise my hand and I could knock the silly thing out of the air.
In other news, they trimmed Nosehair!
Before
After
I’m not sure if Nosehair is pleased with his freshly plucked proboscis… I, on the other hand, am considering a new nickname for my leafy friend. Any suggestions?
Before All Else
An amazingly inspirational piece. Dig it!
What If….
Read some profound poetry.
What if…
The only color was grey?
Would we then be able
To turn and walk away?
What if…
Words did hurt?
Would the sticks and stones
Then be left in the dirt?
What if.…
Pigs COULD fly?
Would we then follow through
With what was so easily denied?
What if….
We looked at the world
With a child’s eyes opened wide
Would we then understand
When they always ask
Why?
Mmm… Yummy Characters
I wrote a flash fiction a little while ago called Puppet Master, and it got me to thinking about the characters I write. In a sense, I imagine them into being, but as they grow I can’t help but wonder if they were all my imagination. Perhaps they were always there, and I simply uncovered them.
When I ‘create’ a character, I take a single aspect of their personality. I then add a few details of their past, mix in a number of ‘what ifs’, and shove them into a cooker to see how they’ll handle it, suddenly I’m left with a complete person who evokes feelings of empathy, love, hatred, or what have you. The point is, they become real to me, and, I hope, my readers. After all, what we care about becomes real to us, does it not? Attachment to characters in a well written story can cause us to mourn when the story is over.
Going back to the Puppet Master story, I don’t feel that this is what I am. I may have the ultimate control over where my characters end up, but it is their own strengths and limitations which determines whether they will succeed or fail, live or die, as long as I remain true to them. Not to stay truthful when I write is, for me, a sin. That again is another argument in favour of the fact that they exist.
I have read many times about authors who feel that they are ‘God’ over their characters. Personally, if I felt that way I don’t think I’d be doing it right. My role is to simply make my characters known to as many people as I’m able. And if they came out of the oven delicious enough, people might even keep them alive through fan fiction. 😉
Research successful
Well, I’m back from doing research for my novel in Kingston. I took this picture of the Inn I stayed in, at dusk, after I turned the lights on in the turret where my room was situated.
Turret
It was a long way up. 41 steps to be exact, not counting the stairs outside to get to the front door and the ladder to get to the top part of the turret.
But my biggest find in all of Kingston?
Can you find him?
Dangerous politeness
freedigitalphotos.net
Being polite in this town I call home runs rampant. So much in fact that it normally takes twice as long to get through a four-way stop because everyone is insisting everyone else go first, regardless of who gets there first. Today takes the cake though.
I was sitting in a long line of cars at a red light waiting for it to go green. Finally we get to go (it was a long light); I was behind a Cavalier. We were almost at the light when the Cavalier almost rear-ended the pickup truck in front of him. Why did the pickup stop at the green light we’d been waiting so long for, almost causing an accident? To let a pedestrian cross in front of him on the red.
Fuuuuu…
As the population in this town ages – I believe it will be half empty in the next fifteen years – it seems that many of the drivers lack more and more the concept that the rules of the road are more important than being nice. And it’s scary! I’m trying to teach my son to drive around town, but it’s unrealistic. The first time he leaves town and goes to a big city he’ll be run into and over top of. There is no such thing as aggressive driving here. I actually had a ball when I went to Montreal last month, getting to experience that again after so long. At least when everyone is only looking out for themselves you know what to expect.
This little town with all its nice people is, I think, the most dangerous place I’ve ever gone out in public. Unless I’m walking of course.
Where’s a burned out brake light when you need it?
I had my brake light replaced yesterday. That’s my back story.
Speed forth to today.
Leaving my house this morning, I was stopped by a frantically waving mother (mine). She wanted to let me know that my headlights were on. I explained to her that they were Daytime Running Lights (DRLs). I didn’t get into the fact that they have been required by law in cars in Canada for the past 21 years… my mother is 83 years old. There are many things I don’t bother to try to explain to her anymore. Anyhoo, that was my first notice today of DRLs.
The second one came this afternoon on my way back home. I was being followed by a cop car – which had one of its DRLs out. Because I just had a brake light blow, I imagined the scene in which I hadn’t already had it replaced and I got pulled over. My imaginary conversation went something like this:
Cop: You have a light out.
Me: Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t know.
Cop: Do you know how many times I’ve heard that?
Me: But did you have any idea that you’d be the next one saying it? (I point at his DRL and smirk, ruthlessly.)
Cop: (Puts his hand over his mouth, giggles, and runs back to his car and speeds away in embarrassment.)
Okay, so it probably wouldn’t go exactly like that. But I would have liked to have seen the look on his face, wouldn’t you?
