#I speak solely through ellipses

[twobros-skatingonanicerink]

I’ve read Lucy’s siren au..... too many times and am.... way too excited for V2

[midnightmarginalia]

Ho fuck this is long

Ok so like. I made a fucking mistake. I wrote an essay for my creative non-fiction class. We had to write a Lyric Essay. simple enough. it's whatever. I transcribed parts of my journal. it was fun. HOWEVER, I made the mistake of telling the class that I did some heavy editing to get rid of some unconventional grammar I use cuz internet, ya know? this was 3 days ago. jump to today. I wrote a 7-page essay trying to briefly explain SOME of the grammar conventions that have evolved alongside the internet. I had to explain this to a group of 40+ year-olds. so NOw I present this to you, o Tumblr. for the love of god let people read this and add to it, I spent eternally too much time on it 

So "Internet English" or "New English" is a linguistic phenomenon that centers on conveying tone and different connotative meanings through informal writing. Linguist Gretchen McCulloch actually released a book on this called Because Internet: Understanding the New Rules of Language.  Her book actually is really interesting (I highly recommend it) and covers some of what I'm going to be talking about today. In the first section, she compares the process of learning literacy to be similar to learning how to talk solely through exposure to formal writing like speeches, screenplays, audiobooks, etc. You miss all the nuances of informal speaking. Well, the same is true for written language. Before the Internet, informal writing was extremely hard to come by and even harder to study; even letters, postcards, secretive notes and the like were still written fairly formally because there were no mass text-based communication practices. Now, we have this vast intangible library of infinite knowledge and human interactions, making the necessity of informal writing more prominent. As such, internet users, especially people from my generation, have evolved a subset of written English to better express connotative meaning through the use, abuse, and misuse of capitalization, spacing, spelling, punctuation, incomplete sentences, and more. Let me show you a little of what I mean.

Capitalization

Capitalization is a common convention used to convey emphasis, although which type of emphasis that is changes based on how the capitalization is used.

Random Capitalization is meant to grab Attention and express that Something is Very Important or should be Stressed by Your Inner Voice when reading.

ALL CAPS IS MEANT TO SIGNIFY A VAST INCREASE IN VOLUME, THOUGH IT IS OFTEN INTERPRETED AS SHOUTING. THIS IS NOT ALWAYS THE CASE.

a crescENDO IS MEANT TO SPECIFY VOLUME AND/OR IMPORTance for one segment. It is often used to EXPRESS GROWING EXCITEMENT!

CaPiTaLiZiNG a RanDoM AsSoRTmEnT oF LetTerS ConVEyS SaRcAsM oR a MOcKinG TonE.

I cannot really articulate why but this, thIS, tHIS, and THIS are all different. This is called Varied Capitalization and can apply to any word, though I most often see and use it with articles.

not capitalizing anything in a sentence is an excellent way to express a monotone voice that seems very apathetic towards everything and everyone. "oh look. john and i went to the store. how exciting."

Spacing

Spacing Conventions are less common, and ultimately there is only one that I find noteworthy. Spacing out letters in a word like r e a l l y conveys that the word is significant. It takes up more space than really and thus needs to be stressed. It is also important to note that this convention is often coupled with full capitalization. There is a significant difference between "I am really hungry" and "I and r e a l l y hungry" and "I am R E A L L Y Hungry"

Spelling

Spelling, like Spacing, is less varied than some of these other conventions. The most common spelling convention you are likely to encounter is the Intentional Misspell. This is used to express one of two things; you can discern which by the context of the rest of the message. It can be used to display excitement. The misspell conveys a kind of excitement that interferes with dexterity, like how your hands shake after a jump scare: "gyus I just swa A Quiet Place  an d it s one f thr svsriest movis I've ever seen." The other emotion the Intentional Misspell can convey is much more subtle and complicated. It is the sense of false apathy. it is nit uncommun to putf a typo in everyr other werd or so to shwo yu don't realy give a fukc but yiu actually do. This is much harder to discern and your best bet on understanding this half of the convention is context clues.

Punctuation and Lack Thereof

Punctuation is, in my opinion, the best, most diverse option for conveying a specific kind of tone. There's a lot to cover here, so I will do my best to keep it brief.

A full stop is a short sentence with a period. It is meant to be read in a scolding tone. The usage of this is especially important in text message and chatroom settings because you can signify the end of a sentence by sending the message. A good rule of thumb for the tone is that the shorter the message, the more scolding the tone.

Putting. A. Period. Between. Words. Conveys. That. The. Matter. At. Hand. Must. Be. Taken. Seriously. This is simply the act of emphasizing each word with a full stop.

not having any punctuation or capitalization at all makes for a very fluid reading experience yes the sentences can get mixed up but those who read and write this way regularly can discern separate trains of thought if you've noticed the lack of capitalization you may recognize one of the earlier discussed conventions it is important to note however that the monotone voice of that convention disappears with the punctuation

Question marks now signify an upturn in the voicing of a statement rather than forcing something to be a question. now you may be asking yourself "why would they do this." The only answer I have for you is "it just seems right?" the upturn signifies a tentative statement while the flat delivery of the question signifies frustration or bafflement.

Punctuation Frequency is meant to signify the amount of severity accompanying the statement. This is exclusively used with question marks and exclamation marks. A common example is extending the simple “what?” to “what???????” Notice the difference? The same thing can be done with exclamation points. Note the increased excitement between “The baby was born today!” and “The babe was born today!!!!!!!!!!!” These, of course, can be amplified even further by incorporating some of the other conventions we’ve discussed previously.

Exclusive Punctuation is a convention most commonly found in messaging systems, but it is still important. “???” is an expression of pure confusion. If you were to receive this message, that whatever you sent the person prior has left them amazed, confused, flabbergasted, awe-struck, bewildered, and more. On the other hand “!!!” is an expression of pure excitement and glee. The best description I’ve seen for this is that it is a noise of happiness.

While there are dozens more grammatical conventions, these are the primary ones that a vast majority of people will use. It is time to move on.

Ellipses

Yes. This is punctuation. But it elicits its own category. Ellipses are great tools for signifying that there is more to this statement than meets the eye. However, there are now multiple types of ellipses that have different meanings.

Periodic Ellipses or Hard Ellipses are just that. Hard. Say I were to text someone “Hey can we talk after class...” The ellipsis generates a cold tone that has some worrying connotations. Something important to note here is that the length of the ellipsis can signify severity, though after a certain point it becomes superfluous and silly. The only friendly usage of a Hard Ellipsis is the Two-Dot Ellipsis. “Hey can we talk after class..” is far far less sinister than “Hey can we talk after class…”

Commatic Ellipses or Soft Ellipses are just that. Soft. Instead of being composed of periods, these ellipses are composed of commas and have a vastly different meaning. These are meant to convey either worrying or flirtatious tones. To go back to our previous example, “Hey can we talk after class,,,,,” is going to be read in a flirtatious manner. However, “Hey can we talk after class,” is going to be read worryingly.  The trick to discerning the different tones is the length of the ellipsis. Three commas or less conveys a worrisome tone, whereas five or more conveys a flirtatious tone.

Sentence Structure

Look! We’re almost done! There are many people who will play with sentence structure to convey meaning but the most widespread practice is the Incomplete Sentence. This one is actually fairly straightforward. Leaving a sentence incomplete expresses exhaustion (either emotional or physical) and adds a sense of trailing off in the speakers voice. I mean, have you ever started a sentence and then just

Noun/Verb Dichotomy

Ok last one. This one is also pretty straight forward, though still quite complex. The Noun/Verb Dichotomy is simple the act of using a noun in place of a verb to get your point across. For example, a more expressive (and in my opinion more accurate) way to say “I like to get a midnight snack at 2 in the morning” would be “I like to velociraptor around my house at 2 in the morning.” The second conjures such a specific image that it can more concisely convey the actions and emotions being done. The possibilities are endless. This opens up the door for someone to sentence how they want. Although many people will get a headache and want to clothesline into a wall. These all make sense to a native speaker of this kind of english because, while our brains do brain logically, english doesnt logic englishly so the brain brains by itself to logic the english!

So that is my mini-lesson on Internet English. please remember I haven't even begun to scratch the surface of what’s changed.

[pyrochordis]

Ranting about my Oc: Euphoria

this bitch right here !!!! skip if u dont wanna hear ab her !! this is the trigger warning. talk of gore and mutilation to follow.

so, starting off with: she’s magic. if youre in the wings of fire fandom, shes basically animus. shes also so fucked up for no reason besides she was born that way

now i dont have much of a growing up backstory for her yet, but i do have her teen/early adult years figured out.

she used to be part of this organization- an assassination organization, from a rather young age, before she got in a massive fight with the leader and broke away. this is where she decided to start her own ‘group’ (cult)

she is the sole leader, but has a companion, Ellipse, who helps her on occasion. every other member of this group has no power in the least and is basically a pawn for her- she can speak through their minds, tell them to do things, and ‘see’ for them.

SECOND TRIGGER WARNING FOR GORE AND MUTILATION

the way she recruits these dragons is by basically buying them off their families- their families get a hefty yearly sum for these dragons to forever work for her.

dragons of lower classes / in poverty often volunteer themselves to her cause. or she kidnaps dragons and turns them into... these Things

once she acquires them, she takes out their claws and teeth and tightly blindfolds them, rendering them blind and defenseless. she will often as well make it so they cant fly. then, she takes over them so they can’t fight her back even if they wanted to

she lives in a desert city, in a large group of interconnected tents. she sits in the middle and controls the dragons, who have been stripped of names and titles- not even granted a number, and uses them to watch over the city and do jobs for her (eg, killing specific dragons or kidnapping them or even just getting groceries). she is their hidden leader- 

these dragons are feared among the civilians of this city, who dont dare to even get close to them in fear of what may happen.

Euphoria is always bejewled in tons of jewelry- rings, earrings, bracelets, tail bands, rings on her wing membranes. the majority of these are enchanted, each with specific jobs.

there is a bone earring on her right ear that is enchanted to charm dragons into their problems slipping from their mind- into making them want to trust her, making her seem like more of a good guy, more innocent.

She isn’t.

thank u for reading if you did <3 !!

[hospitalvolunteerexperience654]

paper writing

About me

How To Choose A Pen Which Pen Is Right For Me?

How To Choose A Pen Which Pen Is Right For Me? This creates a sharper line but additionally a slower drying time. Color selection Rollerball ink usually have a larger vary of colors because there's extra water soluble dyes as and pigments. Less fussy or finicky Ballpoint ink deal with the weather better than other types of inks. When utilizing the Apple Pencil, it can detect how hard you’re pressing down and input accordingly, allowing you to accurately shade digital images similar to you'll a real drawing. When you draw on the stress-delicate screen with the aspect of the tip, it creates extensive strokes good for shading. For handwritten notes, the tip has a nice point that’s extremely accurate. The Moleskine Pen+ Ellipse is a part of the Moleskine Smart Writing System, a group of excessive-high quality products by the famous Italian paper maker. The Smart Writing System consists of the Pen+ and Ncoded Paper Tablets. This Neo Smartpen N2 expenses via a micro-USB port situated on the highest of the pen. Writing quality Gel ink creates a pleasant sharp edge on the line with little bleeding or feathering. Bright vibrant colour Gel ink is available in a wide array of colours. If you don't thoughts a slower dry time and extra showthrough, smoother Pure Cotton Writing Pads are additionally out there from Crown Mill. We would sit on the table and speak about totally different pencil leads, refill the refillable ones, and when he handed for sure I have a bunch of the old ones. They all want refills in them now, and stumbled across this post. the content material which is mention on this weblog is basically understandable and informative. Gel ink is pigmented ink the place the pigment is suspended in water. The ink is thick and opaque and tends to bubble on the floor before soaking in. The lackluster five-hour battery life is the shortest of any pen we tested, so it's going to require frequent charging if you're a heavy user. Set up was quick though, solely taking round 30 seconds to pair up the pen to our smartphone. If you’re on the lookout for a modern, metallic smart pen that works nicely and feels nice, the Neo Smartpen N2 is a solid selection. The Neo Smartpen N2 is easy to arrange and feels comfortable in your hand, however it does require special notebooks and writing pads to perform. JAM Paper White Gel Pens use high-quality, vibrant color ink that enhances any art project, craft, or presentation. I love the Gelly Roll Moonlight 10 set, 0.50mm bold line, ice cream smooth, . If you come across a particularly unbelievable pen or have an opinion on this matter, I would love to know about it. You don’t use the DAVSTRØM Carbon Fiber Ballpoint pen to mark transferring bins. You use it to make an impression on the particular person sitting across from you at your desk or on the other side of the convention table. It’s a consciously stylish pen however somehow doesn’t seem indulgent. We then take a look at every discovering that makes it through the research stage. Only the methods and tools whose efficiency we personally affirm make it into our guides as suggestions. Though the envelopes aren't as clean as the cards, they resist bleedthrough and showthrough just as properly.

[mugen-love]

the Crown that sits atop the head of a spinning Sun

pt. I

Hello Mother: 

I have flown amidst your mountain peaks and sank between your valleys, sobbed into your rivers and swam within your ravines. I have cascaded onto your ocean floors and sunk into your blue seas–where clear creatures light and blink to speak through spectrums. I have coiled in your deserts and hidden within the changing dunes that follow the seas of sand, rattled with your resonance and hum the hearth of your fire. You are as iridescent and resinous as the womb of the night’s sky, formless within the blackness of your belly… I emerge from the center of the mound, carrying my consciousness in the caverns of my chest. 

pt. II

Encased in an ethereal film of spindled fibers, clarity cocooning our metamorphosis, suspended in the sublimity of Nothingness. We are swathed within a Mother’s capaciousness, to look up at the sky, eyes flickering, smelling the insatiable salinity of the water’s depths. We walk amongst the water’s surface and can choose to swim or wade because we cannot sink—we can solemnly soar. 

High and mighty, we feel the condensation of every cumulus, coursing through the spine of Atlas’ cold and crisp breath. Eyes singed by the radiance of the Sun and calmed by the flares of our daystar. When the eye of heaven’s heat dims, its subtle song seeps into my pores and I float down to the ridges of its back. Along the vanes of the vulture’s wing, the dew drops dance as the sharp wind cuts the drop smaller, yet smaller. Edging closer to the final trail’s tip…it detaches— floating and frozen in a moment, before becoming fully, its own.

Sun rays glisten and pierce into a prism of the hydrous sphere, illuminating all that exists within this globe. Osmotically speaking to each orbit within my body, I am reminded of the microcosmic brilliance that lives beyond this one drop of liquid. I am a system, as solar as the Sun and as magnetized as the Moon. The planets that ellipse inside me are in search of equilibrium, a sense of home-eo-static existence, transmitting it’s final call.

Breath full of intent as time’s illusion delves into a decrescendo… where space is felt and matter cannot be seen. The rising questions of self-revolution, sowing seeds, cultivation and care–allow our cells to evolve, soil and crusts beneath our soles, to soften and heal. 

Each internal orbit, simultaneous and effervescent, bubble--as the immense heat from the outer atmosphere wanes and punctures the core of the Earth. She cries when we cannot hear Her and spews fire when we do not listen. Magma rolls down Her cheeks as the smoldering tears burn into my flesh. This body is our body, is my body is Her body.  

  pt. III

One eye flutters open, dust of a butterfly’s wing flakes and floats into the dimensional rippling of a mirrorless world. The other eye stays shut—still—unwilling to awake into the state of our currency. The Other remains safe and unopened, until the opaque transmutes to opulence.

I can feel my consciousness shifting with the clarity of my vision—my body becomes rooted into the ground, my back cooled by the serenity of the soil. Ridges of my back breathe with the growing grass that cushions my vertebrae… ribs forming fibers and ossifying with the minerals that lay beneath the surface. A breeze lifts up my lashes and serenades the blades of flora around me, they tickle my cheeks and soothe my skin. Small ants and aphids crawl along the creases of my elbow and the hairs on my legs--toes curling as something flies by the soles of my feet. I feel caressed by the Earth and Air around me.

Everything that enters this chamber, devolves before my eyes, reverting to its original form. The life within this microcosm is reverting to simplicity. Outside, everything moves quickly. As I lay immobile and encapsulated in the aqueous fluid of this transparent vessel, the fluid fills the space until I am immersed in its watery substance, enough where I am floating. Although I try to speak, there is no sound, only the remnants of its echo–vibrating and pulsating throughout my Being with each exaltation.

The corners of the box smooth out and takes shape unto an egg. Earthly Delights dissolve around me and the fluid is instantly drained. Falling, I am dropped into a place where my vision is obscured by clouds. Behind the shuttered lid, colors begin to shift– a hue of vascular warmth meets the curvature of my cornea and a feeling of red proliferates throughout, my heart crunches and cowers as I realize the crushing tidings and trivialities of human existence.

My higher mind compresses the logs of human history and rises into a state of heightened sentience as I rise from the greater embryo... I leave the unknown. Cold sluices take their last cling onto my newborn skin, sliding off with each step onto the warmth of an ascending path. I am ushered to view the lapse of my Sun forming to life from dust, churning into vibrancy, expanding and cooling. Whips of the corona latch onto my limbs as I float to witness the last cycle of the Sol. Gravity pulls me towards its center as I see a Crown that sits atop the head of a spinning Sun, the Crown is devoured by the blackness of the hole that is forming. No longer in fear of what resides on the Other side. I was birthed into the death of my own Sun and I aspire into its breathe, its last breath of darkness.

[papercutie]

[Image ID start: An eleven panel comic, four panels in the initial post, and seven additional panels added in a reblog. The comic is in black and white, featuring two characters. The first is Kora, a character belonging to @neorattz. He is a young man of middling weight with light hair that reaches his chin in length. The second character is Lachlan, a character belonging to @papercutie. He is slightly more heavy-set and has vaguely shaped black tattoos running around his neck and shoulders. His hair is very short, as if it was recently buzzed off and left to grow back in.

Panel One ID Start: Kora is pictured rather close to the camera, from the shoulders up, looking towards something below him, drawn in a style that focuses on realism in its shape. His eyes are mostly closed, and a text bubble next to him reads "Hello, and welcome to Kora's kitchen....". A frame around the edges of the image implies that it is being seen through the lens of a camera. End Panel One ID.

Panel Two ID Start: The camera is drawn back, allowing the viewer to see more of Kora and his surroundings. He is standing in a kitchen, wearing an apron and holding a wooden spoon. The art style is now more cartoony, with less emphasis on realism and more rounded shapes. He is looking directly at the camera, mouth open as he speaks. A speech bubble next to him reads "The only kitchen in the world where I'm currently standing!". The frame indicating a camera is still present. End Panel Two ID.

Panel Three ID Start: The camera draws back even further to reveal Kora standing at a counter in the kitchen. The frame indicating the camera is gone, and across from Kora is Lachlan, video recording Kora with a smartphone. Next to Kora is a string of gibberish words. End Panel Three ID.

Panel Four ID Start: The view is solely focused on Lachlan now. He is still holding the phone. His eyes are closed, and he has a contented smile, almost as if he's partially asleep. Next to him is an ellipses, indicating silence. End Panel Four ID.

Panel Five ID Start: A copy of panel four, with the exception of Lachlan's mouth, which is now open to speak. Text next him reads "Dude, I think that's ligma..." End panel Five ID.

Panel Six ID start: The frame indicating the point of view from the camera has returned. Kora is looking down at the countertop with a panicked expression. Upon the countertop are bowls and other cooking utensils. Behind Kora are large pink letters reading "Oh fuck you're right!" in all caps. End Panel Six ID.

Panel Seven ID Start: The video recording frame remains. Kora is now extremely close to the camera, his face obscuring the entire view. He is similarly panicked as he was in the previous frame. Text next to him reads "Dude turn off the camera we can't fucking post this." in all caps. End Panel Seven ID.

Panel Eight ID Start: Kora is shown sitting in a reclining chair, watching TV. His hands are resting on his stomach, and his face is covered in runny mascara, indicating that he has been crying. A text box in the corner of the image reads "Later....". Another text box, this one coming from the TV, reads "Hi and welcome to America's Funniest Home Videos". End panel eight ID.

Panel Nine ID Start: A blurry screenshot from America's Funniest Home Videos. The image entails the host, an older white man in a suit, standing in front of the show's logo. The logo is a yellow circle containing the blue letters "AFV". It is partially obscured by a text bubble coming from the host, which reads "Or should I say cringiest! I'm here to announce that tonight we have a submission so fail and cringe that we were forced to change the name to America's Cringiest Home Videos." End panel nine ID.

Panel Ten start: Kora, slightly closer to the camera now, looks to his side to see Lachlan standing far away from him in the room. Lachlan is standing rigid, expressionless, but clearly watching Kora. A text box from the TV reads "Watch as this fail young man accidentally makes LIGMA instead of pancakes!" End panel ten ID.

Panel Eleven ID Start: A copy of panel ten, but it has been edited so that Kora is looking away from Lachlan, in a direction that can be interpreted either as him looking at the viewer or at the TV. A text box from the TV reads "What an epic fail I hope he dies." End Panel Eleven ID.

End image ID]

[firebirdtransam68]

Trans Am's Pet Cat

This short story is based on this joke that is not very well-known in my opinion, but does have some dry humor in it (or any other humor).  I am open to suggestions if I need to improve my writing skills.  If you did not like my story, move on to another story without making harsh comments (this is my third story, so far).

Here it goes:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Trans Am's Pet Cat" by FirebirdTransAm68

A 1982 Pontiac Firebird Trans Am was in a spacious, four-car garage with a few tools and containers neatly put aside to make room for the parked car.  He was petting his semi-long-haired Calico cat with his robotic arm.

Trans Am's owner bought a cat and was originally going to keep her, but decided to give her to his car, since he had a connection with an inanimate object (who is also sentient, but humans could not see that).

The cat's name was Tomoe.  She was a white cat with black, brown, and orange patches all over her body, one green and one blue eye, and a red collar with a brass bell dangling over it.  She really loved to be petted, since she was leaning towards the robotic hand stroking her, and was purring with bliss.

Trans Am's commlink beeped, and he activated it.

"Hello, this is Trans Am."

"Hey, Trans Am, this is Camaro.  Guess what?  The Grand Chassis race track is open near I-6 and Phoenix Boulevard, and they are inviting us in!  I am so excited, I cannot wait!"

The Grand Chassis race track was a monthly event where cars of all kinds compete against one another, and the winner becomes the top Grand Champion of the year (prizes were common for winners, as well).

Trans Am was enthusiastic about being invited to such special event.  "Really?  Well, I would really like to come to the event, but I am concerned about leaving my cat unguarded; she recently had a broken leg from the last fall she took, and she is prone to mischief which can put her at risk..."

"Oh, do not worry," said Camaro reassuringly, "you can also get a cat-sitter to watch over her while you are at the event.  I can contact Tesla to watch over her while you are gone."

"Thank you for the offer, but I already have someone else in mind to watch over her," Trans Am said, "and besides, isn't Tesla coming along for the Grand Chassis event, anyways?"

"Oh, right, I forgot... but he won't be participating; he wanted to watch us race so he can cheer us on."

"In other words, be part of the audience."

"Yeah, that's right."

"Well, all right, then; I will be on my way; I have to drop Tomoe off to my brother's garage, first.  See you there," Trans Am said.

"Okay, see you," Camaro said, and they both hung up.

                              ---------------------------- *^* -----------------------------

Trans Am's brother's garage was only three blocks away from his home garage, and traffic was very mild today, so he had plenty of time to drop off his cat and zoom to the event he could not wait for.  He stopped at one traffic light when it turned red, and waited until it turned green.

It would otherwise be a decent day, had it not been for one inconvenience.

"Hey, gaslighter!"

Trans Am groaned, but kept his composure.

"Hello, Prius; what brings you here?"

A dark gray Toyota Prius was on the left side of Trans Am's lane, also waiting for the light to go green, but decided to harass his arch-nemesis solely for being a gas-fueled car (hence the term "gas-lighter").

"Nothing much, but I am not spilling any gas or smog unlike YOU are."

Trans Am had a catalytic converter, so there was no smog emanating from his exhaust pipe, and there was not a single drop of oil or gasoline spilling from him.

"Well, at least I am not wasting lithium since I do not run on electricity, unlike YOU," Trans Am decided to make a comeback of his own.

"Oooh, Trans Am is starting to throw a temper tantrum, because he did not get his way~!" Prius resorted to taunting.  "Nyah, nyah, nyaahh!"

If Trans Am had eyes like a human, he would roll them; he scoffed at Prius' childish behavior, obviously not amused.

Tomoe peaked out of Trans Am's driver window, and looked at Prius, who then stopped taunting and stood in silence.  She meowed.

"AAACKK!!!" Prius moved backward a little bit, and seemed to be shivering, "I hate cats!  Get it away from me, please!!"

"Why?" Trans Am asked with confidence, "what did cats do to you besides scaring you with their looks alone?"

Now Prius was fuming, but also terrified at the same time.  "Why, you!"

"Hmph."  Trans Am zoomed off after the light turned green.

Prius missed his light, and was stuck there until the next light turns green.  Another car slowed down for his next light next to Prius, and both of them waited.

The car decided to speak.

"I want to fly.  I want to fly high in the sky, so I can show those airplanes that there is more to cars where that came from.  I will climb up the highest building, and I will jump, accelerate my engine, and I will take off in midair like a plane does.  What do you think?  Do you think I will become a great--"

"Oh, shut up!" Prius said, harshly.

                              ---------------------------- *^* -----------------------------

Trans Am stopped near another four-car garage that was not as luxurious as his own garage, but was a very nice garage, nonetheless.  It was made of light gray adobe, had a metallic door, and a brick roof.  He rang the buzzer with his robotic hand, and waited a bit.

The garage door opened, and out came another 1982 Pontiac Firebird Trans Am.  He was dark maroon, had no bowling-ball hubcaps like Trans Am did, and had a brownish-red flaming bird symbol with its wings stretched on his hood.  He slowly moved out of his garage towards Trans Am

"Hey, brother!  Good to see you," he said, jovially, as if they had not seen each other in a very long time.

"Long time no see, Firebird," Trans Am said.

"Why don't you come inside, and we can chat about the good old times, and whatnot."

"I appreciate it, brother; but I have to go to this special event with my cousin Camaro, and he really wanted me to come.  I also have a pet that I do not want to leave alone.  So, I was wondering if you would offer to watch her for me while I go to the event.  I will be gone for a week or two."

"Sure thing, Trans Am, but I do not have enough experience with companion-sitting besides feeding them and giving them water, of course," Firebird said, hesitantly.

"It is quite simple, really; all she needs is shelter, and has to be inside more since she can get hurt by being too adventurous; she recently broke her leg, and is still recovering from it.  So I would really appreciate it if not only you give her the necessities as well as shelter, but also keep her inside more often, all right," Trans Am said.

"Will do," said Firebird.

"Here you go," Trans Am opened his car door, and out came Tomoe, who walked quickly towards Firebird, and started rubbing his front right tire.  "Oh, and she can be quite affectionate, just to warn you a little bit."

"That is quite all right," Firebird assured.

"Take good care of her; I must be off," Trans Am backed up a little bit, and then turned and drove off to his destination.

"Good luck, brother!" Firebird shouted.

                              ---------------------------- *^* -----------------------------

Two days passed, and Trans Am, Camaro, Super Bee, and others were getting ready for the next race after Trans Am won two rounds.  The Grand Chassis was enormous; way bigger than NASCAR; and the track had more of a pattern instead of a simple ellipse.  The track was freshly paved, and was thirty-five feet wide, and only three miles long.  The audience seating was positioned like a football stadium, but with seats that are big enough for cars to settle in; Tesla was on the sixth row, cheering Trans Am and Camaro on.

After cleaning himself up, Trans Am decided to check on his brother and Tomoe's state first, so he drove off to a near-by vacant parking lot and set up his commlink.

"Hello, Trans Am," Firebird's voice said through the commlink.

"How do you know it was me?" Trans Am asked.

"Lucky guess..."

"Well, all right, then... Anyways, I was just calling to check on you and Tomoe.  So, how is she doing?"

"She is fine," Firebird said, bluntly.

Trans Am can detect a slight hesitation in his brother's voice, but let that slide off, since he believed Firebird was still a little unfamiliar with pet-sitting, but is otherwise doing well.

"All right; well, I will check up on you again in a couple of days or so.  Goodbye."

"Goodbye."

They both hung up; ten seconds later, Camaro came up to Trans Am.

"Hey cousin, hurry; the next round is about to start!  We do not want to be late.  Come on, let's go."

"Coming, cousin," Trans Am raced off with Camaro to get to the race track on time.

                              ---------------------------- *^* -----------------------------

After the fifth round was completed, Trans Am decided to contact Firebird again to check up on Tomoe for the second time.  Firebird answered, but not in a way Trans Am expected.

"Look, Prius, I don't have time for any of your petty shenanigans or all of that scrap!  So why don't you go away and--"

"Hello, brother," Trans Am said, slowly.

There was a one second pause.

"Oh, Trans Am; it's you.  I am so sorry about that; Prius has been prank-calling me lately, and he was really getting on my nerves.  Thank goodness it is you, brother," Firebird said.

"Well, that figures," Trans Am said, unenthusiastically.  "Well, anyway, I am calling again to check up on Tomoe."

"She is still fine..." Firebird drawled a bit.

"Are you sure about that," questioned Trans Am.

"Yes."

"All right, then.  Well, I will check up on you tomorrow.  Goodbye."

Trans Am hung up, and decided to call his father, whom he had not talked to in a while.

"This is GTO; I am not at home right now, so please leave a message, and I will get right back to you.  Thank you, and have a nice day."

Trans Am did not leave a message, and turned off his commlink.

"He has not been answering his commlink, lately.  I wonder why..."

                              ---------------------------- *^* -----------------------------

Trans Am decided to take a break after thirteen rounds (so far, he had won eight rounds; two more, and he and he would become the Grand Champion of the Grand Chassis race track of the year).  And once again, he called his brother.

"Hello, brother."

"Hello, Firebird.  So, how is Tomoe?"

There was a three second pause before Firebird spoke.

"I'm sorry, Trans Am, but Tomoe just died."

Trans Am was lost for words.  He could not believe what he just heard.  Not only was he heartbroken to hear about Tomoe's death, but was also shocked and hurt that Firebird just told him that she died out of the blue without giving him enough information as to what really happened.

He started to speak after ten seconds.

"Firebird, how can you just say that, especially out of the blue?  You could have just broken it in to me in a more gradual and gentle way.  You already knew that I told you I would be gone for a week or two, and I did not expect to hear this news so unexpectedly, especially after you said she was fine twice when I called you."

"Sorry," Firebird said with a hint of guilt in his voice.  "I am not very good at breaking the news as much, so I may need assistance.  So, how should I have said it, instead?"

Trans Am regained his composure more, and started to speak:

"Well, if I called you the first time, you could have said something along the lines of 'Well, Tomoe is on the roof, and she cannot get down; I will let you know after your next race.'  And then the next time I called you, you could have said, 'I got Tomoe down, but she appears to be in very bad shape; the doctors are doing their best to get her back to normal, but I fear she may not make it; but try not to think about that right now, and focus on your next race.'  And THEN when I called you again, then you could say that she died.  If that were to have happened instead, it would not have come off as a shock as it is right now."

"Again, I am sorry," Firebird apologized.

"That is quite all right," said Trans Am, calmly, "I should not have snapped at you like that, I am sorry; however, sudden tragedy is worse than gradual tragedy, so it was very difficult for me to deal with it."

They both calmed down, and stood in silence for about fifteen or twenty seconds until Trans Am asked Firebird, "Well, anyways, now that that is out of the way, how is Dad?"

"Well, he is on the roof and he cannot get down..."

[authorlaneblevins]

How to Write Dialogue that is Purposeful and Powerful

One of the most important ways that you can convey information, build conflict and develop characters is through purposeful dialogue. Out of all the various skills involved in storytelling—many of which may feel purely instinctive—dialogue is likely the one that requires the most practice and earnest study. It seems pretty logical that young writers (especially those who may have committed their first story to the page when they were still teenagers) are at a clear disadvantage when it comes to writing effective dialogue: for starters, their exposure to conversations is limited, and they’re still trying to understand communication practices themselves. Perhaps this is why many writers don’t become comfortable with dialogue until they have gained some experience, both in writing and in life.

As you begin to take a closer look at whether your dialogue is meeting its full potential or not, here are a few helpful guidelines:

-Focus on dialogue that is natural, not “realistic”: One of the mistakes many writers make is paying undue attention to how “realistic” their dialogue is, or, more specifically, how closely it resembles the way that people speak in real life. The issue with this is that, in real life, people have a lot of vocal habits that would impede storytelling. In other words, if my life was a novel, there would be a lot of pages a reader would skip over because me asking my coworkers about how their night was or if they’d read the latest email traffic is not conducive to a riveting story. In normal everyday speech, people repeat themselves, drift off into non sequiturs, issue the polite exchanges that are socially expected of them, and use several gap-words (words that “bridge the gap” while they’re thinking such as “like,” “um,” or, in my case, “fucking”) that would unnecessarily pad a word count.

The general rule of thumb is this: instead of obsessing about your dialogue being as true to life as possible, instead focus on your dialogue being accessible and natural. After you write an exchange, read it out loud. Does it sound stilted? If so, you may want to reduce formal words and the use of names in every line (people saying the name of who they’re talking to in every line sounds less like people talking, and more like aliens putting on a play about people talking). Is it loaded with ellipses, stutters, repeated words and dashes to denote a pause? If so, you likely had a difficult time reading it out loud, and you may want to simplify the use of punctuation: your job is not to provide stage direction for any would-be actors reading these lines, it’s to keep the story going.

-Formatting and grammatical considerations: The key here is consistency. If you decide to use quotation marks to demarcate lines of dialogue, use them throughout. If you choose not to use quotation marks (a risky move for less-seasoned writers or anyone trying to appeal to mainstream audiences), stick to that rule throughout. That isn’t to say that you can’t summarize some lines for the sake of expediency or to portray a narrator’s mental state, but even that you would want to do sparingly, and utilize some tool to show that this is dialogue, such as italicizing the lines or still using “she/he said” at the end of the line. Also, be sure to use quotation marks correctly, with all punctuation closing the line of dialogue within the quotation marks.

Furthermore, when it comes to dialogue tags, there are three general rules of thumb to abide by: one, avoid using the thesaurus to come up with new ways to say “said.” This word is preferred because the reader skims right by it, maintaining the rhythm of the dialogue while still providing them the information they need, which is who is doing the talking. Secondly, you can switch up the placement of your dialogue tags to present variety in sentence structure: you can begin with the dialogue tag, end with it, or break up a line of dialogue by placing the dialogue tag in the middle. As long as you practice appropriate grammar in these instances, they offer an easy way to keep your reader’s eye engaged. Lastly, you don’t need to use dialogue tags after every line; this would, in fact, get tedious fast. Instead, if the conversation is between two people, throw tags in every few lines so that the reader doesn’t get confused about who is talking. If the conversation is between more than two people, you may want to use tags more frequently.

-Avoiding expository dialogue: Or, at the very least, disguise it. It’s pretty inevitable that, at some point, you will have some instances of expository dialogue; an easy way to have one character learn about the world your story is set in or the conflict they are engaged in is to have another character tell them about it. In many ways, this is preferable to blocks of exposition given by the narrator: expository dialogue at least gives the reader information about who knows what, and how the speaker may feel about the information they’re giving.

One way to use expository dialogue without it coming across as glaringly unnatural is to never have only one character deliver it, and to space it out amongst several scenes. Whenever you have a character whose sole purpose is to give expository dialogue (often an old sage, professor or even a best friend) it strips the character of the ability to have anything else to talk about. Also, as with non-dialogue exposition, the aim is to not overload the reader all at once, as this slows down the pacing and the development of the primary conflict of the story.

-Depicting voice without overdoing dialect: I have personally always had an aversion to overuse of dialect in writing. I can get behind common slang usage—such as “gonna,” “ain’t” and “y’all,” for example—but when every word in a line of dialogue is misspelled for the sake of dogged dedication to a character’s specific accent, I will very quickly close a book and never pick it back up again. In my opinion, if dialect is conveyed heavily enough that it slows the reader from comprehending what is being said or from getting past the dialogue, then it is wasting the reader’s precious time. If you want to let the reader know that a character has an accent, this might be one of the occasions where “telling” works better than “showing.”

You generally don’t want to sacrifice plot progression or pacing for realism.

With that being said, it is of vital importance that you depict each speaker’s voice and differentiate them from one another; by the second act of the book, a reader should be able to tell who is speaking without requiring dialogue tags: each speaker’s unique speech patterns, rhythms and lingo should clue the reader in. If this is not the case, and each speaker sounds pretty much like every other speaker in your book, you may want to go back and tailor each voice by asking yourself a simple question: given what I know of the character (where they’re from, what their personality is like and what they think about all of the other characters), how would they talk if they were pissed off? How would they talk to the love of their life? How would they talk if they were afraid?

-Don’t be afraid to show humor (and avoid melodrama): In life, as in literature, one thing that gives perhaps the clearest window into who someone is as a human being is their sense of humor. What kind of things do your characters find funny? How would they joke in a time of great tension and stress? How would they joke when that tension is resolved and they can relax? Humor is also a way that people can hide their emotions; would your character joke when they’re uncomfortable with a situation, or would they laugh it off when they’re depressed? You can use humor to depict a character’s mental and emotional state via subtext, and using this subtext allows you an escape from one of the many alternatives, which would be to move towards melodrama or being too on-the-nose in your dialogue. In other words, humor prevents you from having a character tell another character or the reader how they really feel all the time, which is unrealistic human behavior, treats the reader like an idiot, and dissolves tension.

-Developing an ear for speech patterns, rhythms and sharp dialogue: As an introvert, I learned a lot about speech patterns and the unique ways that people speak simply by eavesdropping on conversations. Given that I’ve only ever been comfortable with one-on-one conversation and seldom felt the desire to volunteer any tête-à-tête myself in a group setting, I was always content to listen to others. This, in and of itself, is not sufficient though, as it can only teach me the realistic way that people talk to one another and not the sharper and more stylized dialogue that works better for storytelling. I supplemented these unofficial studies with a boat load of books and movies—as good as dialogue can be in a novel, I would be hard-pressed to find any dialogue-scribe on par with the likes of Aaron Sorkin, Quentin Tarantino or Raymond Chandler. Long story short, the best advice for developing a sense for dialogue that works and dialogue that doesn’t is to expose yourself and listen carefully to the world around you—both the real world, and the world of fiction.

-Dialogue that either advances the plot or develops a character: This is, perhaps, the most important guideline for writing effective dialogue: make sure every line either advances the plot or develops a character. True, this bit of advice could go for every word in a novel, dialogue or not. The bottom line is that you don’t want to waste your reader’s time with your characters exchanging pleasantries (the “Good morning, how was your night?”, “Oh it was great, I had a really nice dinner” exchanges that we spend a good chunk of our real lives participating in) unless that exchange of pleasantries carries a meaningful subtext that says something about the character dynamics. When re-reading the dialogue you have written, ask yourself frequently and answer honestly: does this line serve a purpose? Sure, I might like it, it might sound pretty or give me a chuckle, but what does it do to advance the plot or show who the speaker is? Is this line redundant? Have I already conveyed the same information elsewhere? Can this dialogue be condensed, as in could I convey the same sentiment in one word as I just did in thirty words? If your honest assessment to any of these questions is affirmative, you may want to cut or at least edit the line.

On the point of condensing, I would like to close with an example provided in Richard Walters Essentials of Screenwriting. “Ideally, dialogue must in a single stroke accomplish two goals: expand characters and advance plot. In Escape from Alcatraz (Richard Tuggle, adapting the J. Campbell Bruce book), a prison psychologist inquires of the protagonist, portrayed by Clint Eastwood, ‘What was your childhood like?’ Eastwood’s reply: ‘Short.’ ”

[things-considered-blog1]

Halfway

We are halfway through. If the exchange were a day, I imagine this would be the point where the sun creases over the sky and begins its slow but deliberate descent.

The exchange students must now regroup. Our friends who were staying only for the first semester are gone. We are not exactly sure who is left, and are reminded, yet again, of temporary nature of the year abroad.

In a recurring dream, I am at a final dinner with these people who have become such good friends. Here it gets confusing: I am wearing a one-shoulder green dress and I do not own a dress like this. Anyway, there I am, wearing I dress I do not own in a restaurant I do not recognize. (Bear with me, here.) Raising my glass, I try to tell the people at the table how much they mean to me but I am having trouble getting the words out. I do not know if this will happen. Probably not.

But it gives me comfort, because everyone is there. And you, reader, are by my right-hand side.

Home, briefly

I.

While I am home for the holidays, my family goes to one of our favourite restaurants. We

dash through the -28 degree weather to the entrance, with as little grit as you can expect from a family whose members were born minutes from the Caribbean sea.

Once at the table, we grin at each other and lean forward, speaking in hushed tones as though telling secrets. I know that anyone looking at us can tell we are an adult family. Average age around 35; children living in different cities, all over the world; communicating through Skype, FaceTime, and a family group chat. The contents of the conversations being, more often than not—is everyone alright, does anyone need money, have you completed this paperwork, have you paid these fees, when is this due. Poetry and news articles shared by my mum. The occasional exclamation in patois. Brief discussions about politics. When did we get like this?

II.

People like to say, “Time flies.” Looking back at my family’s history; however it does not seem that the time has flown. It has passed, evenly.

It is clear to me that it has been a long time, especially when I peer around the table at my family. My father is wearing the sort of hat his father used to wear, a flat cap; my sister, a university freshman now, has her eyes shadowed by mascara; my mother is wearing her signature shade of dark red lipstick; I am wearing shiny brown shoes and a watch. We have all developed our particular styles but are all wearing black coats, as though this one aspect was carefully coordinated.

“First person to remember to remember our server’s name gets ten bucks,” Mum says under her breath. My family loves to play little games like this, where no one actually keeps score and no money ever changes hands.

Later: “Are we going to Jamaica this year?” The question is posed by my mother to the table at large. We are long past the days where our parents were the sole planners of our family trips. Now there are schedules to be thought about, vacation days to be organised.

“Yes,” Dad says.

My sister and I smile. If you are an immigrant you may be aware of the concept of on-years and off-years, where, some years, you go back to your small island and others, you don’t.

These periodic trips are important. They are like tacks, pegging us to our history. They remind us who we are and where we are from and where we were born. It’s been decided; 2018 is a Jamaica year.

III.

I tell my family that I do not know whether I will stay in France for the summer or come back to Toronto. “I’ll go wherever the jobs are.” When I say this, I feel much older than I am. “If Toronto, I might look for a place downtown.” This, too, makes me feel old. But I am half-joking. Rent in Toronto is sky-high.

“I think you will have to,” my mother says, taking a bite of her lobster. When available, she will always order lobster, steak, a baked potato, and a virgin strawberry daiquiri. I know her order by heart. “I know you’re bored in the suburbs.”

“What? You’d let me get a place downtown?” I say.

“I think you’d have to.”

“Wow,” I say, and squint out at the restaurant, past the people.

Please, touch the art

I knew I was an adult when I walked past a wall of felt in an art museum that was meant to be touched but did not touch it.

Bedbug level: 12

My sister is coming down to France for a week. It will be her first time in Europe, so we decide to book a spontaneous trip to Rome over Skype. We end up having to put it all on Dad’s card because mine is not going through.

“What! Do you think I’m made of money?” Dad cries over the phone, when we call to ask. This is his constant refrain.

On skype, my sister and I giggle. I am reminded of a video on Facebook of a person throwing money out a window, with the caption, “This is what it’s like having daughters.”

As if it is not enough to rob him blind, we tease Dad relentlessly, sending him text messages with lots of ellipses and strange punctuation, just as he would send them to us:

No problem… putting it on your card… will reimburse thanks,

Once the train tickets are booked, my sister and I search for hostels. I read out some of the worst reviews to her.

“On a scale of 0 to 10, where 0 is no bedbugs and 10 is bedbugs, I would give this hostel a 12, as in, don’t even fumigate, just burn it down.” We double over laughing.

Sailing

I am sitting in a class called l’Europe et la mer dans l’époque moderne (Europe and the Sea in the Modern Era).

The professor made a huge show of singling out the foreigners in the class when we walked in, first to welcome us, and later, to reprimand us, saying, “I know in England you may eat in class but here in France we do not do this.” I roll my eyes at his assumption. I am not from England.

I work out how to fight back in my head. We don’t like being singled out every time we walk into a room, I would say in French. It makes it difficult to integrate. And at this point, when we are nearly fluent, it is frankly offensive. But I decide not to say anything because arguing makes me tired. Instead I look out the window and notice the sky is a cloudless blue.

My eyes shift to the syllabus, which has a painting of sailboats on the front. I think of how I would much rather be at sea, rather than discussing it. I want to taste the sea air and feel the sun on my legs.

I am reminded of something a colleague at my internship last summer once said to me, in the staff kitchen:

“You’re so young. Have you ever been in love?”

I shook my head sheepishly, retrieving my lunch from the microwave.

“Well, one day you’ll fall in love and you’ll do things you never thought you’d do. You’ll go—I don’t know—sailing, and you’ll love it. You’ll say, thank God I met you otherwise I never would have sailed.”

MC

[babakziai]

When is a poem one word? Even at 17 he was Baraka            on the court, Coltrane gold toned, a kind of running riff, more than boy-child, man-child, he was one word like Prince.             How back in those drunken days when I still ran in bars & played schoolyard ball             & wagered fives & tens, me & my colleague the psych-prof drove across Eastern Ohio              just to see this kid from powerhouse St. Vincent, grown out of rust-belt-bent-rims, tripped             with the hype & hope & hip hop blaring from his headphones, all rubber soled             & grit as the city which birthed him. We watched him rise that night scoring over 35,             drove back across the quiet cut cornfields & small towns of Ohio, back to the places             where we slept knowing that Jesus had been reborn, black & beautiful with a sweatband crown rimming his brow.             He was so much more than flipping burgers & fries, more than 12-hour shifts at the steel plant in Cleveland.             More than the shut-down mill in Youngstown. More than that kid selling meth in Ashtabula.             He was every kid, every street, every silo, he was white & black & brown & migrant kids working farms.             He was the prince of stutter-step & pause. He was the new King. We knew he was coming back the day after he left             his house in Bath Township. He never sold it. Someone fed his fish for years. Perhaps our hope? Fuck Miami. Leave Wade to wade through the Hurricane rain. LeBron is remembering that woman washing the linoleum floor, that man           punching his punch card. He drives a Camaro, the cool kid Ohio car driving through any Main Street. He is the toll-taker, &             he is the ticket out. He keeps index cards documenting             his opponents’ moves. One leans forward before he drives. One always swipes with his left hand. The details like a preacher             studying the gospel. He studies the game like a mathematician conjugating equations, but when he moves he is a             choreography, a conductor passing the ball like a baton. He is a burst of cinders             at the mill. He is a chorus of children calling his name.             The blistered hands of man stacking boxes in Sandusky, the long wait for work in Lorain. A sapling bends             & reaches in all directions before it becomes a tree. A ball is a key to a lock.             A ball is the opposite of Glock. America who sings your praises,            while tying the rope, everyone waiting for Caesar to fall, back-stabbing media hype city betrayed             by white people with racist signs.             I watch the kids play ball in the Heights, witness this they say. We will rise. I watched             LeBron arrive & leave, I walked, I gave up drinking as he went off & won a ring. The children’s chorus calls out sing             brother, sing. Everything is black. Storm clouds gather out on Lake Erie. But the old flower-hatted women             at the Baptist church are heading out praise cards, registering teenagers to vote. To turn a few words into a sentence. He is a glossary of jam, & yes he is corporate             chugging down green bubbly Sprite, running in Beats head phones, he is Dunkin his donut, he is Nike, witness, ripped.             On a spring day in Akron a             chorus of children is chanting his name on the court by the chain-link fence. He is forged steel, turning his skinny body into             muscle, years of nights lifting, chiseling, cutting, studying. Watching the tape. To make a new kind of sentence. He is passing             out T-shirts, this long hot bloody summer he was returned to the rusted rim along the big lake. He is stutter-step. He is             spinning wheel. He has a cool new hat. He is speaking of dead black children. He is giving his time. To make the crowd             sway like wind through a field of corn.             Does LeBron think of dying?             Does the grape think of dying as it withers on the vine by the lake? Or does it dream of the wine it will become? He is wearing a shirt that says I Can’t Breathe. They said he was arrogant. I said he was just Ohio.             He married his high school sweetheart. Bravado laid out on the court. No back down, he is Biggie with a basketball inside             of a mic, no ballistics, just ballet. He is Miles Davis cool, quietly cerebral, turning his back, tossing up             chalk like blue smoke, blue notes, blues. He is Akron, Columbus, he is heart & Heat turned to lake effect blizzards,             freighters frozen in ice, looking for work & no money to eat. He is Ashtabula & Toledo. He is carrying so many across the             river, up through Marietta.             The grapevines are ripe in Geneva.             He returns, Man-child, Man-strong, Man-smart, Man- mountain, Mansfield to East Akron, minus into Man, or should we             say Mamma raised? Single mother fed, shy child, quiet child who grew, who suffered & taught his body to sing, his             mother worked how many shifts, doing this, doing that, never gave up for her son. He is third shift at the rubber             plant in winter, he is farm hands & auto parts piecework & long nights the men at the bar, eyes on the television.             The lake tonight is black as newly laid asphalt. There are no ellipses. He is turning paragraphs             into chapters. Long ago the hoop Gods made this deal at the crossroads, Old Scratch is flipping the pages             of his program & waiting high in the stands—to belong to a place most people would call             nowhere, to show the world how tough we truly are, twelve-hour shifts at the Rubber plant in Akron. How he is, how             he is a part of this asphalt court we call Ohio, & how we suffer, & how we shine. Sean Thomas Dougherty, “Biography of LeBron as Ohio” from The Second O of Sorrow.  Copyright © 2018 by Sean Thomas Dougherty.  Reprinted by permission of BOA Editions, Ltd., www.boaeditions.org. Sean Thomas Dougherty BiographyMore poems by this author Poem of the Day: Biography of LeBron as Ohio Poem of the Day: Biography of LeBron as Ohio Poem of The Day {$excerpt:n} Source: Poem of The Day

http://babakziai.org/poem-of-the-day-biography-of-lebron-as-ohio/

[tujarzz]

Imogen Jennifer Heap (/ˈɪmədʒᵻn ˈhiːp/; born 9 December 1977)[2] is an English singer-songwriter and composer. She is known for her work as part of the musical duo Frou Frou and her solo albums, which she writes, produces, and mixes. She has produced four solo albums. Her 2009 album, Ellipse, was a North American chart success that earned Heap two Grammy nominations, winning Best Engineered Album, Non-Classical in recognition of her technical and engineering work on the record.[3] In 2010 she received the British Academy's Ivor Novello Award for International Achievement.[4]

Publishing administrator Downtown Music Publishing represents the works of Imogen Heap.[5] After being introduced to Nik Kershaw by his manager Mickey Modern, Heap and Kershaw recorded four demos that Modern took to Rondor Music. Consequently, a few months later she signed her first record contract at eighteen to independent record label Almo Sounds.[7] Modern and Mark Wood formed Modernwood Management, and managed Heap until 2006, when Modernwood was dissolved. Wood continues to manage the artist via his new company, Radius Music.[8]During 1996, Heap began working with an experimental pop band called Acacia, which featured her future collaborator Guy Sigsworth and was fronted by the singer Alexander Nilere. While never a full member of the band, Heap was a guest vocalist (as a counterpart to Nilere) and contributed to various Acacia single and album tracks. One Acacia song, "Maddening Shroud", would later be covered by Frou Frou.[9]Modern asked Dennis Arnold to place Heap in the line up in the 1996 Prince's Trust Concert in Hyde Park, London organized by Harvey Goldsmith. Heap performed four songs between sets by The Who and Eric Clapton.  Heap's debut album, iMegaphone (an anagram of "Imogen Heap") was a mixture of self-penned and self-produced tracks, alongside tracks co-written and produced with established producers such as David Kahne, former Eurythmic Dave Stewart, and Guy Sigsworth. The album was released in 1998 internationally via Almo Sounds, to favourable reviews comparing Heap's angst-filled songs to work by PJ Harvey, Kate Bush, Chrissie Hynde, Siouxsie Sioux, and Annie Lennox. Promotion for the record included a tour of America and performances around Europe. Three singles were commercially released in the UK: "Getting Scared", "Shine" and "Come Here Boy". "Oh Me, Oh My" was sent to US radio stations in place of "Shine".Heap's early success was soon replaced by problems. Almo Sounds cut funding for UK promotion and gave Heap a deadline to deliver songs for her second album. Upon delivery of the songs, she was told that they lacked "hit potential". It was announced that the record label would be sold to Universal and its artists moved to other labels or released. Heap was one of the artists who was dropped from the label, leaving her without a record contract. [10]iMegaphone had, however, been licensed from Almo Sounds to Aozora Records in Japan, who eventually re-released and re-promoted the album in January 2002, featuring "Blanket" and "Aeroplane" (a Frou Frou remix/remake of one of her B-sides, "Airplane" of the Shine single released in 1998). The album featured new packaging, all-new artwork, and a previously unavailable hidden track, entitled "Kidding", recorded live during her 1999 tour.Copies of the original Almo Sounds release remain rare. A Brazilian label, Trama Records, currently claims to hold the license to the record and has started re-printing copies of the album in limited quantities. The album was released digitally on the US iTunes Music Store in early 2006. After achieving commercial success with her work with Guy Sigsworth as the duo Frou Frou and her second solo album, Speak for Yourself, Heap was able to secure the re-release of iMegaphone.In the gap between the end of promotion for iMegaphone internationally and the re-promotion, Heap had also begun to think about her second solo album, and had started writing songs, both solo, as well as working with Guy Sigsworth; however, as she was without a record deal, the songs were shelved. During the time when she was unsigned, Heap appeared on two UK singles, "Meantime" (a track written by her former Acacia colleagues Guy Sigsworth and Alexander Nilere for the soundtrack to the independent British film, G:MT – Greenwich Mean Time) and "Blanket" (a 1998 collaboration with Urban Species). In 2000, Heap sang on two tracks of the album You Had It Coming by Jeff Beck.2002–2003: Frou Frou[edit]Heap had kept in contact with Guy Sigsworth (who had co-written and produced "Getting Scared" from iMegaphone) and this led to the pair of them establishing the collaborative project Frou Frou.The initial concept for Frou Frou was Sigsworth's, and the project was to have been an album written and produced by her with each track featuring a different singer, songwriter, poet or rapper. Heap explains that Sigsworth invited her over to his studio to write lyrics to a four-bar motif he had, with one condition – that she include the word "love" somewhere. The first line she came up with was "lung of love, leaves me breathless", and the Details album track, "Flicks" was born. A week later, Sigsworth phoned Heap up again, and together they wrote and recorded the future single "Breathe In".Throughout the process, Frou Frou work was an equal partnership, with Heap and Sigsworth making equal contributions to writing, arrangement, production and instrumental performance and Heap handling all of the vocals.In August 2002, they released the Details album and singles "Breathe In", "It's Good To Be in Love", and "Must Be Dreaming" (although the latter two were not commercially available). The album was critically acclaimed, but did not enjoy the commercial success that they had been hoping for until 2004 when the song Let Go became a hit from the Garden State soundtrack.In late 2003, after an extensive promotional tour of the UK, Europe and the US, the duo were told that their record label, Island Records would not be picking up the option for a second album.Heap and Sigsworth remain firm friends, and have worked together since the project, including their temporary re-formation in late 2003, when they covered the Bonnie Tyler classic, "Holding Out for a Hero", which was featured during the credits of the movie Shrek 2 after Jennifer Saunders' version in the film. Frou Frou saw a resurgence in popularity in 2004, when their album track "Let Go" was featured in the film Garden State, the soundtrack of which won a Grammy award.In a 2005 interview Heap said of Frou Frou "(it) was really like a kind of little holiday from my own work. Guy and I, we have always worked together, and then over the years, it became clear that we wanted to do a whole album together. It was very organic and spontaneous — just one of those wonderful things that happens. But there was never a mention of a second record from either of us, and not uncomfortably. We're just both kind of free spirits. I love to work with a lot of different people, but I was also just gagging to see what I could do on my own. But I'm sure in the future, Guy and I will get back together to do another record, or to record a few songs together."[11] In December 2003, Heap announced on her Web site that she was going to write and produce her second solo album, using her site as a blog to publicise progress.Heap set herself a deadline of one year to make the album, booking a session to master the album one year ahead in December 2004. She re-mortgaged her flat to fund production costs, including renting a studio at Atomic Studios, London (previously inhabited by UK grime artist, Dizzee Rascal), and purchasing instruments.At the end of 2004, with the album completed, Heap premièred two album tracks online, selling them prior to the album's release – "Just for Now" and "Goodnight and Go".In April 2005, The O.C. featured the vocoded-vocal track, "Hide and Seek" in the closing scenes of their season two finale. The track was released immediately to digital download services, such as iTunes, in the US, where it charted and on the UK Billboard charts where it was #22. The track was released to iTunes UK on 5 July 2005 (the same day as the UK airing of the season finale) and entered the official UK download chart. The song has since been certified gold by the RIAA.Heap released the album on her own record company, Megaphonic Records. The album was titled Speak for Yourself.Speak for Yourself was released in the UK on 18 July 2005 on CD and iTunes UK, where it entered the top 10 chart. The initial 10,000 physical copies pressed sold out, distributed through large and independent record stores and Heap's own online shop.In August 2005, Heap announced that she had licensed Speak for Yourself to RCA Victor (Sony BMG), for the album release in the United States, Canada, and Mexico. The album was released in November 2005 and débuted at #144 in the Billboard Top 200 album chart. In concert, Heap performed solo, controlling the sound through her laptop, as well as singing and playing the piano and array mbira.She returned from the US, already having sold over 120,000 copies.Heap also announced, on her return to the UK, that she had signed a deal for the album to be released internationally, as well as re-promoted in the UK, with a new imprint of Sony BMG, White Rabbit, run by former Sony BMG UK A&R vice president Nick Raphael. The deal meant that the album could have the promotional backing provided by a respected major label, whilst Heap retained sole control and the team she established for Megaphonic Records.Speak for Yourself was re-released on the label on 24 April 2006, ahead of a full promotional push on 15 May, a week after the second single, "Goodnight and Go", was commercially released in the UK.In August 2006, Heap performed a set at the V Festival,[12] where it was announced that "Headlock" was to be the third single to be lifted from the album, and released on 16 October 2006 in the UK.In late September and early October, Heap embarked on a tour of the UK, holding a competition on MySpace for different support acts for each venue, before touring throughout Canada and the US in November and December. This was her first tour of North America that included a band, incorporating upright bass, percussion, and support acts Kid Beyond and Levi Weaver on beatbox and guitar, respectively. In December 2006, Heap was featured on the front page of The Green Room magazine.On 7 December 2006, Heap received two Grammy nominations for the 49th Annual Grammy Awards, one for Best New Artist and the other for Best Song Written For Motion Picture, Television Or Other Visual Media for "Can't Take It In". Throughout the creation of her album Ellipse, Heap posted vlogs, or VBlogs as she called them, through YouTube.[13]She used these to comment on the album as well as update on its release. The album's release was pushed back multiple times. These included Heap being asked to perform at the annual event PopTech in October 2008. During the event, she premiered one of her album's songs, "Wait it Out".Heap announced on her Twitter page that Ellipse's first single would be "First Train Home". On 17 August 2009 Heap made the entire album Ellipse available for live streaming via her webpage.Ellipse was released in the United Kingdom on 24 August, and in the United States on 25 August.On 15 January 2010, Heap accepted the Grammy Award for Best Engineered Album, Non-Classical for her engineering work on Ellipse.2011–2014: Sparks & hiatus[edit]On 14 March 2011, Heap started work on her forthcoming album, Sparks (then unnamed), as fans sent in nearly 900 "sound seeds", or samples of everyday sounds such as a "dishwasher door", a "bicycle" or a "burning match". Heap says the concept for this album will be to record one track over a two-week period every three months. Each song and video will be released immediately. According to her website, the album will be completed in roughly three years.[14]The first song, initially entitled "#heapsong1" and later retitled "Lifeline", premiered worldwide on 28 March 2011 via Ustream[15] along with a live remix by Tim Exile. "Lifeline" was released on 30 March 2011 as a digital download from Heap's website and via iTunes, Amazon and other digital retailers. Released alongside this was a 12-page 3DiCD package (a 3D virtual CD) including crowd sourced (and paid for) images, the instrumental version of the song, the "seeds and solos only" version and "heap speaks seeds and solos" - an-18-minute commentary by Heap on how the sounds and solos were used in "Lifeline".On 6 May 2011, Heap tweeted that she and deadmau5 were working on a collaboration. The song is titled "Telemiscommunications" and is included in deadmau5's sixth studio album, Album Title Goes Here.[16][17][18]On 9 September 2012, Heap wrote and released a track, "Someone's Calling", recorded especially for use as a ringtone.[19]List of #heapsongs[edit]heapsong1 is entitled "Lifeline" and was released on 30 March 2011. The song is a tribute to the victims of the 2011 Tōhoku earthquake and tsunami.heapsong2 is entitled "Propeller Seeds" and was released on 5 July 2011. The song was recorded using 3D audio effects and headphones are recommended for listeners to get the full effect.heapsong3 is entitled "Neglected Space" and was released on 17 October 2011. The song incorporates concepts, people and sounds from a lab organized by the Clear Village Charitable Trust to restore a walled garden in Bedfords Park.[20]heapsong4 is entitled "Minds Without Fear" and was released on 21 October 2011. It was the first song to be featured on the 2011 Indian show, The Dewarists.heapsong5 is entitled "Xizi She Knows" and was released on 24 January 2012. It is the sixth song off the forthcoming album overall.[21]heapsong6 is entitled "Me, the Machine" and was originally to be the 6th single released. It was performed live on 22 April 2012. The song premiered along with the film, Love the Earth, as part of Earth Day 2012.heapsong7 is entitled "You Know Where to Find Me" and was performed live in A Room for London on 22 June 2012. It was released on 2 November 2012 as the sixth single from the album.[22]"Telemiscommunications", a collaboration with deadmau5, will also be included in the album, as stated on her official website.[23] It was featured in deadmau5's 2012 album >album title goes here<, and released as the fifth single from the album on 25 February 2013."Entanglement" was originally to be included in the soundtrack of The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn – Part 1 but was rejected."Climb To Sakteng" and "Cycle Song" are two instrumental heapsongs used for the soundtrack of the documentary film The Happiest Place, A Journey Across Bhutan.[24][25]"The Listening Chair" was performed live in the Royal Albert Hall conducted by American composer Eric Whitacre on 29 August 2012.[26]"Run-Time" is a collaboration with Intel UK and RjDj to create a Jogging App that will be released along with the new album in the following year.[27]"The Beast" is a last-minute addition to the album.Heap has stated that there will be 14 tracks on her fourth album. The title of the album is revealed as Sparks and was released on 18 August 2014.[28]In the Sparks box set, the Heapsongs are labelled in production order as:Lifeline – heapsong1Propeller Seeds – heapsong2Neglected Space – heapsong3Minds Without Fear – heapsong4Xizi She Knows – heapsong5You Know Where to Find Me – heapsong6Telemiscommunications – heapsong7The Listening Chair – heapsong8Entanglement – heapsong9Cycle Song & Climb to Sakteng – heapsong10Me the Machine – heapsong11Run-Time – heapsong12On her Sparks vblog #5, she announced that she will take hiatus after the birth of her baby thus she won't tour promoting Sparks at least for a year.