TBTM

'Difficult' words

An auger or an augur?

Having recently screamed 'apprised!' at the television in the middle of Lost in Austen (which, incidentally, I will just say I found delightfully silly, hilarious and exuberantly entertaining and I do wish its more surly and humourless critics would just go and blinkin' well 'get a life') - when a character begged to be 'appraised' of a situation . . .

And having recently (with some trepidation) pointed out to a dear and notably (or at least aspiringly) pedantic friend that the person to whom they were referring in an employment reference was 'discreet' and not 'discrete' . . .

And also (confession time now) persistently experiencing that 'have I turned off the cooker?' obsessive compulsive need to check and re-check that I've used the right 'compliment' or 'complement' for the job . . .

. . . has prompted me to bring to everyone's attention this terrifically useful list of Difficult Words on me old mate Julian's sporadic but excellent publishing blog.

May your ambiguities never again mess with your ambivalences, neither may you be loath to loathe the venal (. . . or should that be venial?)

In praise of Granta

Granta magazine. It's just plain brilliant. And I'm a devotee. A fan. An adoring long-time admirer.

And 'magazine' is what it persists in calling itself, although that is not the word which springs to mind when one holds one of its book-shaped, book-sized, book-weight issues in one's eager hands.

As revealed by the photo above, a little group of older Grantas has even, by some miracle, ended up side by side on the disorganised shelves in Musings Mansions. This is purely accidental and not by design, as those familiar with my 'library' in real life will testify.

Here's how Granta is described on its 'about' page:

'Since 1979, the year of its rebirth, Granta has published many of the world’s finest writers tackling some of the world’s most important subjects, from intimate human experiences to the large public and political events that have shaped our lives. Its contributors have included Martin Amis, Julian Barnes, Saul Bellow, Peter Carey, Raymond Carver, Angela Carter, Bruce Chatwin, James Fenton, Richard Ford, Martha Gellhorn, Nadine Gordimer, Milan Kundera, Doris Lessing, Ian McEwan, Gabriel Garcia Marquez, Jayne Anne Phillips, Salman Rushdie, George Steiner, Graham Swift, Paul Theroux, Edmund White, Jeanette Winterson, Tobias Wolff. Every issue since 1979 is still in print. In the pages of Granta, readers met for the first time the narrative prose of writers such as Bill Bryson, Romesh Gunesekera, Blake Morrison, Arundhati Roy and Zadie Smith; and have encountered events and topics as diverse as the fall of Saigon, the mythology of the Titanic, adultery, psychotherapy and Chinese cricket fighting.

Granta does not have a political or literary manifesto, but it does have a belief in the power and urgency of the story, both in fiction and non-fiction, and the story’s supreme ability to describe, illuminate and make real. As the Observer wrote of Granta: ‘In its blend of memoirs and photojournalism, and in its championing of contemporary realist fiction, Granta has its face pressed firmly against the window, determined to witness the world.’

'A belief in the power and urgency of the story' absolutely sums up what makes Granta so exciting and so necessary. The current issue, No 103, is entitled The Rise of the British Jihad and contains not only the eponymous investigation by Richard Watson but a remarkable selection of other writing and photographs. Perfect train-reading stuff (and I have some nice long railway journeys coming up soon - hooray!).

And as if it weren't enough that one can buy and own and keep these hugely desirable, re-readable publications in the time-honoured way, there is also now, of course, Granta.com. A beautifully clean, clear, no-frills website which is a joy to meander around. There are highlights from each issue to be had for free and the Online-Only features include What We're Reading and Photography.

You can sign up for a monthly newsletter here.

And for anyone interested in book cover design, this slideshow of 30 Years of Granta Covers will keep you glued to your screen, going 'ooh, that's a good one', 'ooh, that's another good one', 'ooh, that one's excellent' for really quite a long time. Especially if you start at the beginning again once it's finished. Which is what I'd recommend.

Fat Black Labrador Stars in Short Film Shock!

Crikey! I'd absolutely no idea until a minute ago that my fat black Labrador is the star of her very own filmlet on YouTube! One of SD#1's early directorial efforts, it seems.




Not quite sure what all that was all about, but at least it's saved me having to think of anything to write for today's 'Musing' . . .

TBTM

Walked from West to East Mersea and back again along the beach for four bracing, blustery hours this morning and early afternoon. Boy and I enjoyed an early sandwich lunch at Fen Farm, from where we took turns watching yachts through a telescope, picked up his mountain bike and set off for the return trek, facing into an ever more biting wind.

The kite-surfers were having the time of their lives and we had a spectacular view of their extraordinary feats from the sea wall. Head bent against the elements, I picked a decent crop of sea glass without really trying.

Boy cycled inland to meet his friends halfway back, so the dog and I ended our little expedition together, sitting on my favourite old jetty with a nice hot cup of takeaway tea.

It's turned very cold indeed now. Windy, damp and grey, and night will fall early. Boy and his dad are off out again for an evening of motor launch driving duties at the Packing Shed, so it falls to me to make a hearty supper to warm everyone up. Shepherd's pie and blackberry crumble should do the trick, I think.

And then I shall be eschewing the family telly viewing and curling up with a book instead. My reading took a real nosedive over the summer. Too many distractions, I suppose. But I've suddenly got going again - am finishing off some part-read novels I abandoned (though no fault of theirs, I hasten to add) back in August, and have eagerly lined up some others from the top of the TBR pile for imminent consumption.

Whether I shall write about them here is something I've yet to decide. I found myself, a few months ago, becoming so terminally bored by the sight of my own inconsequential ramblings about books, and so completely weary of reading other people's book reviews too, that I just gave up on the whole book-blogging world. And, slightly to my surprise, I find I don't really miss it one tiny little bit! I shall probably creep back in by the back door as the days shorten and there are more hours to spend hunched over a laptop, but it will be a very gradual process, I suspect.

No Air

Medicine, film-making, medicine, film-making, medicine, film-making . . .

Hmmm, SD#1 just can't decide where her future lies. But she's only just started her first year of GCSEs so there's plenty of time and her subject choices mean that all options remain open.

Meanwhile, while practising her bedside manner (amongst other things) by acting as assistant physio to Colchester RFC Colts, she fills the rest of her leisure hours refining her directorial and editing skills, filling up YouTube with the likes of this - a 'lipsync' to the song 'No Air' by Jordin Sparks and Chris Brown.

On the right we have the original video, on the left are two of our very talented young actress/musician friends, directed, filmed and edited by SD#1. (The screens are a bit tiny because they're side by side, so click on 'full screen' in the right-hand corner for a better view.)

(PS, forgot to say, that the two vids were joined together by the girls' excellent, helpful and (I'm told, though I've yet to have the pleasure of verifying this info) kilt-wearing IT teacher, Mr N. Thanks Mr N, and look forward to meeting you at parents' evening.)

Friday Interview - Craig Conley on magic words

Today's Friday Interviewee is Craig Conley, whose Magic Words: A Dictionary is published in paperback this week.

I first encountered Craig earlier this year, through this guest post on the inspirational ColourLovers blog. I mentioned on Musings at the time how delighted I was to land on Craig's own site and discover, for example, his book of annotated ellipses (which you can read online) and his 'unconventional' guide to the mysteries of Portmeirion.

Described by Encarta as 'America’s most creative and diligent scholar of letters, words and punctuation', Craig has also been called a 'cult hero' by Publisher’s Weekly. A former college teacher of writing and literature, he left academia to pursue his research into one-letter words, magic words and ancient Zen versions of Rock-Paper-Scissors. In addition to Magic Words: A Dictionary and One-Letter Words: A Dictionary, he has written a field guide to identifying unicorns by sound, a coloring book that requires no crayons, an atlas of blank maps, and four editions of the textbook Human Diversity: A Guide for Understanding. Craig is also a regular contributor to Pentacle Magazine.

Craig, your dictionary of one-letter words is a revelation. How did it all start?

Who knows why, but I have an eye for anomalies in text. A solitary letter of the alphabet in the middle of a sentence is like a blip on the radar of my vision. I can't help but focus my attention on such anomalies and wonder 'what's their story?' Over the course of several years and through the use of profuse bookmarks and scribbled notes, I found myself with enough one-letter words for an entire dictionary.

My eye for textual aberrations also led to my compilations of all-consonant and all-vowel words, as well as magic words.

One of my favorite one-letter words has to be X, which boasts nearly 60 definitions of its own. X marks the spot on a pirate’s map where treasure is buried. It’s a hobo symbol meaning handouts are available. X tells you where to sign your name on a contract, and it’s also an illiterate person’s signature. X indicates a choice on a voting ballot, and a cross stitch of thread. Mysterious people may be named Madame X, and the archetype of a mad scientist is Dr. X. X is an incorrect answer on a test, and it’s a rating for an adult movie. X is a power of magnification, an axis on a graph, and a female chromosome. It is a multiplication operator, a letter of the alphabet, and an arbitrary point in time. X is a kiss at the end of a love letter.

Another favorite letter is O, which Shakespeare used to describe stars ('All yon fiery Oes' in A Midsummer Night's Dream), the earth ('The little O, the earth' in Antony and Cleopatra), and an affliction ('Why should you call into so deep an O?' in Romeo and Juliet). All those X's and O's led me to wonder whether every game of Tic Tac Toe told a story! I even worked up a 'Tic Tac Toe Story Generator' so that players can share their tales.

So how did you go from writing a dictionary of one-letter words to a dictionary of magic words?

In retrospect, it was actually a natural progression. The letters of the alphabet are like the building blocks of language, and magic words are like the blueprints or ‘mission statements’ for constructing reality. In the course of gathering together one thousand different meanings for the letters of the alphabet, I saw over and over again how letters are inseparable from mysticism in cultures all around the world. Mythologies tell of the alphabet's divine origin and how deities used language to speak the world into existence. So my dictionary of one-letter words would actually qualify as a collection of magic words (albeit very small ones!). As an amateur magician and scholar of magic, I've come across thousands of references to magic words over the years, and that no doubt sparked the idea to celebrate and codify the lexicon. But my main inspiration is literature itself - the power of carefully chosen words and carefully constructed sentences to transport a reader into other worlds, other times, even other lives.


What exactly qualifies a word as ‘magic’?

‘Magic’ refers to a state of consciousness - an awareness of mysterious possibilities in humanity and the universe at large. I once had a friend who said he believed only what he could see and touch, and I was dumbfounded! What a tiny reality he created for himself! Ironically, my friend was a meteorologist, and one would think that of all professions, meteorology would foster an appreciation for the unpredictable! The problem, of course, is that magic is commonly associated with superstition. But as the physicist B K Ridley eloquently explains:

‘what is not scientific is not necessarily superstition. Forces that move people exist which lie outside the scientific domain by their very nature — everyday forces, neither supernatural nor occult, plain to everybody, part of the human experience. Even our everyday language employs the image of the mechanical effect of a force when we speak of being moved by a certain purely mental experience. Who does not respond to the power of form, of colour, of symbols, and is this not what used to be called talismanic magic? Who is not delighted and moved by the artful use of words, incantations, names as essences, oratory, poetry, and is this not word magic? Is not the effect of harmony and melody magic? And is there not an elemental magic in the intuition of the craftsman, even in the 'feel' of the technician for his machine, though it be a product of the highest technology? To say nothing of common sense? Surely the answer to all these questions is yes. Then these are nothing but the well-known elements of natural magic stripped of their superstitious and supernatural patina. Magic, thus defined, is the complement of science. It acts, not on material objects, but on human sensibility. At its highest intellectual development, reached in the seventeenth century just when science was beginning, magical theory could describe a cosmos full of meaning to the human spirit, a latter day Theory of Everything.’ (On Science, 2001).

Our most potent magic words are microcosms that reverberate with echoes of the campfire storyteller's mythology. Magic words have been called fugitives from dreams and fairy tales. They are mysterious, shadowy, and perhaps indecipherable, yet their cadence possesses an unmistakable profundity. We know the phenomenon in great poetry, where we might be deeply struck by language we don't fully comprehend. With magic words, we define a sacred arena where miracles can come into play. There are profound truths in that old cliché of a magician pulling a rabbit out of an empty hat with the magic word ‘abracadabra’. Almost everyone recognizes the image. But what relatively few people know is that our stereotypical magician is speaking an ancient Hebrew phrase that means ‘I will create with words’. He is making something out of nothing, echoing that famous line from Genesis: ‘Let there be light, and there was light.’

Can any word be a magic word?

Yes. Here's why: Language has the power to reawaken vestiges of humankind’s earliest communication — our ancient ancestors’ savage cries of anger or love. All such cries were commands; to the primitive mind the command was inseparable from the act, much in the way that a small child learns to conjure up a parent from the unseen void of an adjoining room, simply by employing a magic word like ‘Mama’.

A great many ‘commonplace’ words come standard with a special spark of their own. Literature, folklore, and even advertising are replete with examples of commonplace words that are rich with magical connotations. ‘Paris’ conjures romance. The old name for China, ‘Cathay’, recalls an exotic, faraway land of spices and silks. ‘Riviera’ bespeaks elegance and excitement. The word ‘holiday’ whisks us away to a private paradise. The word ‘now’, spoken with a commanding voice, awakens one's inner six-year-old child who instinctively obeys a parental command.

Hoagy Carmichael worked highly musical, magically evocative words into his lyrics so as to transmit memory and yearning for the simplicities of yesterday: ‘moonlight’, ‘Wabash’, ‘sycamore’, ‘possum’, ‘oleander’, ‘rhubarb’, ‘veranda’, ‘buttermilk’, ‘old mill’ and ‘watermelon’, for example.

If intoned in the proper spirit, any word can be a magic word. However, the most powerful magic words are ancient-sounding. They project an aura of tradition, of ‘old wisdom’ handed down through the generations. Their mysteriousness addresses our instinctive understanding that words are powerful, creative forces.







How can one find one's own magic words?

It all depends on what kind of magician one is. We're all magicians, for the magician archetype is a primal aspect of the human psyche. In my dictionary I explain how there are four basic types of magicians:

Trickster, Sorcerer, Oracle, and Sage. One good way to determine your type is to think about how you'd organize a friend's birthday party.

A trickster type is mischievous and would be inclined to throw a surprise party or a hire a novelty singing telegram. ‘I can't believe you did this’ would be a typical reaction. The trickster's magic words are likely to be funny-sounding tongue-twisters or irreverent wordplays.

A sorcerer type likes to make huge impressions with grand gestures, such as arranging a lavish, elegant dinner party. ‘I'm speechless’ would be a typical reaction. The sorcerer's magic words are likely to be weighty and mysterious syllables from Egyptian and European wizards of old.

An oracle type would take a psychological approach and snoop out the ultimate gift as if through mind-reading. ‘How on earth did you know I wanted this?’ would be a typical reaction. An oracle's magic words would be friendly, familiar words like ‘vacation’ that cause us to spirit off to a fantasy world.

A sage type would take a philosophical approach and act as a wise one or guide to give a friend symbolic wings; the birthday would be an ordinary day made extraordinary by awakening the inner child to see with eyes of wonder. ‘Only you could have made today so special’ would be a typical reaction. The sage's magic words are likely to be mystic chants of Judaism's Kabbalists, Islam's Sufis, Christianity's Gnostics, Buddhism's Lamas, and Hinduism's Gurus.

What is the most unusual magic word you found?

There are so many unusual ones! One favorite is a summoning spell from ancient Egypt. ‘Abba Abba Abba Ablanatha Nafla Akrama Chamari Ely Temach Achoocha’. The Aramaic word ‘Abba’ beseeches a primordial father figure. ‘Ablanathanalba’ refers to a griffin (eagle's head, lion's body) who protects a sacred shrine. ‘Akrammachamari’ is a word found on Egyptian amulets to ward off evil. The spell conjures the divine power of God's tattoos. On the original Coptic manuscript is a rather exotic image showing the seven holy vowels of the Greek alphabet tattooed across the divine's chest!

What's your favorite magic word?

Again, there are so many! One favorite comes from one of the Oz books by L. Frank Baum, entitled The Magic of Oz, written in 1919. It's a word discovered by a munchkin that can transform anything into anything else - if you pronounce it correctly. It's a wild word, full of unlikely letters like x, q, z, y, g. I'm disinclined to talk about it, lest I unleash the mischief that the munchkin warns against! But for those curious, it's the final entry in the P section of my dictionary.


Thanks Craig.

You can read more of Craig's magical investigations on his Magic Words blog and Magician's Hidden Library site.

And for a joyful daily dose of word-related wisdom, wit and whimsy, do visit his excellent Abecedarian blog.

Daily Candy Fictionary

Despite being decidedly uncool, unhip and unhappening myself, I'm still rather a keen occasional visitor to the resolutely cool, hip and happening pages of Daily Candy, a free daily e-mail newsletter and website, which describes itself as:

'the insider’s guide to what’s hot, new, and undiscovered — from fashion and style to gadgets and travel. As useful as it is entertaining, it’s like getting an e-mail from your clever, unpredictable, and totally in-the-know best friend. The one who knows about secret beauty treatments, must-have jeans, hot new restaurants — and always shares the scoop.'

I tune in to the London edition, which is the only UK version. I love the illustrations as much as anything, but the articles are generally well worth a read.

I've been particularly intrigued by the regular additions to the site's Lexicons of made-up words. And now the best of these 'words that don't exist but should' have been collected together in book format in the Daily Candy Fictionary - definitely one of those books which demands to be left in the bathroom or guest room, for idle dipping into.

Here are some of my favourite entries, grouped by theme:

Technology

Block-listed: adj. Permanently banned from all modes of virtual communication.

E-mnesia: n. The condition of having sent or receive an email and having no recollection of it whatsoever.

Laptopless: adj. Working on one’s home computer while semi-clothed.

Mouse potato: n. The wired generation’s answer to the couch potato.

Tone deaf: adj. Hearing your distinct ring tone even when no one is calling.

Work

Conference crawl: n. The incredible physics-defying manner in which time slows down during a conference call.

Missenger: n. The inevitability that you’re in the bathroom when a delivery arrives.

Promotion sickness: n. The queasy feeling you get when someone really stupid gets promoted.

Food

Carbonara footprint: n. Obvious and deleterious effects of overindulgence in creamy pasta dishes.

Cereal monogamy: n. A slavish devotion to one particular breakfast cereal.

Crapas: n. One of the many bad versions of the ‘small plate’ craze.

Haitress: n. Angry waitress. See also: haiter.

Environment

Biodebatable: n. 1. The questionable products that claim to be green. 2. Something that shouldn’t be worn just because it’s green.

Fossil fools: n. People who don’t realise the negative impact of their actions.

Organic panic: n. The sudden need to shop at farmers markets/carry reusable shopping bags/create a compost heap in your apartment.

Shopping

Byosphere: n. ‘The mental space in which you happily pay extra for green, organic or eco-friendly products without blinking an eye.

Dressing tomb: n. The physics-defying, one-square-foot room in which you’re expected to remove your trousers.

Fabric-ation: n. The involuntary impulse to lie when the salesgirl asks what size you are.

Nightlife

Dressed to spill: adj. Used to describe a woman’s precarious and flirtatious state of dress, wherein a great deal more than cleavage will likely be revealed.

Nontourage: n. A group of undesirable sycophants.

Restaur-romp: n. A date that gets out of hand at a dinner table and or/bar area.


Travel

Arm restle: n. The ongoing battle waged with your seatmate over the middle armrest. Manoeuvres include ‘elbogarting’ (slow advance of the elbow to gain ground) and ‘recline and conquer’ (capturing the armrest during feigned or actual sleep).

Mathzheimer’s: n. The inability to calculate a foreign exchange rate without elaborate financial and/or tech support.

Sorted Book Challenge III

Here's this lunchtime's offering:

See links to some other new ones in the comments to the original post.

And do please join in.

(G'wan, g'wan, you know you want to!)

Sorted Book Challenge II

This one's less of a story and more of a Muddy Island Tourist Office blurb:

(If you're wondering what on earth this is all about, see my previous post on the Sorted Book Challenge.)

TBTE

Such a shame they're not edible, really, isn't it?!

The Musings Sorted Book Challenge

I am indebted - as I am so often - to Susan at Green Chair Press for this link to the official Sorted Books Project.

'The Sorted Books project began in 1993 years ago and is ongoing. The project has taken place in many different places over the years, ranging form private homes to specialized public book collections. The process is the same in every case: culling through a collection of books, pulling particular titles, and eventually grouping the books into clusters so that the titles can be read in sequence, from top to bottom. The final results are shown either as photographs of the book clusters or as the actual stacks themselves, shown on the shelves of the library they were drawn from. Taken as a whole, the clusters from each sorting aim to examine that particular library's focus, idiosyncrasies, and inconsistencies — a cross-section of that library's holdings. At present, the Sorted Books project comprises more than 130 book clusters.'

When you click on the photos on Nina Katchadourian's site, you will see the rest of the series from each 'sorting'.

And here is a not terrifically amusing one I've just come up with very quickly myself. I will put my mind to creating some better efforts this evening (because, with absolutely no cleaning, tidying, washing or ironing to do [cough, cough, cough], let alone manuscripts to be edited [further bout of ironic ahem-ing] of course I have just masses of time on my hands for playing amusing bookish games).


Why don't you see what your bookshelves can yield? If you post pics of the results on your blog, please leave a comment with link(s) below, and, if enough people join in, I'll put together a compilation of the best 'stories' here in a few weeks' time.

And we'll have a vote.

And I'll send a prize to the winner!

Yeah! Get to it!