Education

Contract: Flash Fiction

Contract

The door to the Principal’s office opened just as Tammy approached, hurrying because she was late for class. Tom, her Department Head, stepped out and stood in her way.

“Tammy,” his tongue swiveled around his thin lips in nervous fashion. “I’m just talking with the Principal about your new contract. Come in,” he extended his arm and shepherded her towards the open door.

“Not now,” Tammy replied. “I’m late for class. “Can’t it wait?”

“Strike while the iron’s hot,” Tom showed teeth yellowed from tobacco. “We’ve got a great deal for you. Come in, come in.”

Tammy found herself face to face with the Principal.

“Tammy, my dear, we’re so proud of you,” the Principal flashed a row of crocodile teeth, two of them gold-capped. “I have some papers for you to sign.”

“But, I’m late for class and …”

“I know, don’t worry. This won’t take a moment,” Tom winked at her as he and the Principal led her towards a typewriter that sat on the desk with a blank page and two carbon copies inserted in it.

“Here, at the bottom of the page, just sign here,” Tom pointed.

“But it’s a blank page. I can’t sign a blank page,” Tammy stammered in response.

“You’ll see it when it’s typed and signed,” the Principal assured her. You can always change it later.”

“Can’t I come back after class?”

“I’m afraid not,” the Principal frowned. “I have an important meeting in half an hour, with the school board, and you’ll still be in class. This must be signed now if it’s to get board approval.”

“But you said … you said I’d only be here for a year …”

“We’re very pleased with you,” the Principal flashed the sunshine of his teeth. “We want to keep you here.”

“Very pleased,” said Tom. “This is a first class, independent school run, as you well know, on a non-profit basis. Only the children of the rich and privileged come here to study,” he paused. “And some of them come here because of you. That’s why I’m recommending you for this new and improved contract. I signed my first three-year contract this way, didn’t I?” he looked towards the Principal.

“You did indeed,” said the Principal. “And just look where you are now: Head of your Department.”

“A three-year contract …” Tammy blinked and ran her tongue over her lips. “I wasn’t expecting that. I thought a year … thank you … but …”

“No buts. Jobs are scarce nowadays, particularly in your field,” Tom looked at his watch. “Time’s getting on. You don’t want your students walking out of your class, do you? Here you are now: just sign here,” he handed her the pen he held in his hand.

“You’d better be quick,” the Principal said. “This offer may not be here tomorrow and … my goodness, look at the time. You are running late.”

“Sign,” Tom told her. “I signed and I never regretted it. Remember, we can always change the wording later.”

“Drop in after class,” the Principal smiled. “It will all be approved by then and you can read it and we’ll modify what you want.”

Tammy sighed and signed.

The Principal and the Department Head ushered her to the door.

“Hurry,” they exhorted. “Run. You don’t want to be late.”

Tammy ran to her class.

The two men watched her go. Then they went back into the office, shook hands, and grinned at each other.

Tammy never saw that contract. She stayed at the school for three more years, as she had promised, but in all that time she never got a pay raise and the not-for-profit school board never allowed her to join the employees’ health and pension plan.

Terza Rima

Terza Rima

Apologia pro verbum meum

Dear followers of my WordPress Blog: sometimes
I write what I do not mean to write
and say what I do not mean to say. Rhymes

make things clearer, for I puzzle what I might
say, and plan ahead so an awkward word
doesn’t intrude. Words, birds in flight,

bright as postage stamps across the absurd
white snow of a page or a digital screen:
when I think about it, I assume about a third

of what I say, I really mean. Who has seen
the early morning wind drifting our thought cloud
across trees and lawn, shadows cast on green

leaves of grass as we think our thoughts aloud,
each thought a pea in a pod, as some we clasp
between finger and thumb while others crowd,

and the loud, uneasy word slips from our grasp
to wound or injure or otherwise to hurt and maim.
It’s not my aim to do this. My word is not an asp

or a viper or a screw to be driven. I lay no claim
to hurt and yet sometimes a word slips sideways
and does not say what I mean it to say. I aim

to please, to tease, to provoke, in so many ways
and yet I often hurt where no hurt is intended.

If I have done you wrong and my word displays
unintended ends, forgive me: let all rifts be mended.

Comment:

Terza Rima was, for a long time, the chosen verse form for letters and epistles: the epistolary form, in fact. The rhyme scheme is very flexible and easy to maintain and the syllable count is also relatively easy. As for the length of the letter, well, that is entirely up to the writer. The one that I have chosen here has seven tercets and ends in a quatrain. The quatrain is a standard “stitch up” with which to end. I have used the epistolary form on many occasions, especially when sending postcards and letters to friends. Add it to your poetic arsenal. You will not regret doing so.

Structure in the Short Story

Structure in the Short Story
Wednesday Workshop
30 November 2016
Posted: 4 December 2016.

I just attended, with one of my writers’ groups, a writing workshop offered by a guest speaker. Our speaker threw out some interesting ideas on structure in general and structure in the short story in particular. The first comment he made was “Are you sure that your novel is not a short story and vice versa?” He then suggested that often beginning writers run out of steam because their novels are not really novels but are short stories that need cutting, rather than expanding.

He followed this up by suggesting, and I made no notes so I write from a memory that fails me more often than it used to, that a short story should have a structure that runs something like this:

stasis > key occurrence > end of old world (stasis broken) > beginning of new reality (the world upside down) > quest (the search for new balance) > climax (when all the events of the crisis come together) > the moment of truth (when the central character is faced by a decision) > the choice (the protagonist chooses) > pay-off for protagonist (order is restored and the protagonist is changed or confirmed by his choice) > pay-off for readers (who see that change and are themselves changed by looking at the same old world through different sight and a new knowledge or insight gained).

One of the group members circulated his notes from the workshop and summarized the idea rather more succinctly:

The first thing I remember … in any story, the main character has to be changed at the end from what s/he was in the beginning.

The other item was the list of elements in a story: Stasis, Trigger, Quest, Surprise, Critical Choice, Climax and Resolution.

Clearly this is a theoretical structure, but many short stories follow it or versions of it. Through this structure, our speaker suggested, there often runs a leitmotiv and this can provide a thematic unity that also holds the story together. Returning to this thematic unity and writing selectively from within it, can often produce the desired change in reader and protagonist. Equally clearly, there is no length to this structure and the resulting story may be very brief or suitably enlarged.

According to our speaker, the character of the protagonist is very important and the key aspects of the protagonist’s character must be clearly drawn, right from the start. The protagonist must also go through some sort of change as the story and the protagonist’s character both develop. Place is also important and the protagonist should be linked into a place and preferably a time. The protagonist in the short story is, after all, in a dialogue with his time and his place (his chronotopos, as Bakhtin would phrase it).

This is certainly a prescription for short story writing, one of many prescriptions, I might add. A quick search turns up another definition, this time of a five-point narrative arc offered by Mark Flanagan:

“Sometime[s] simply called “arc” or “story arc,” narrative arc refers to the chronological construction of plot in a novel or story. Typically, a narrative arc looks something like a pyramid, made up of the following components: exposition, rising action, climax, falling action, and resolution.”

Flanagan continues with a definition of each moment in the story. Exposition reveals the characters and the setting. Rising action is a complication that hinders the protagonist. Climax is the point of highest stress or tension. Falling action is a releasing of the pressure and the resolution ties up all the loose ends. (Taken from this site)

http://contemporarylit.about.com/od/literaryterms/g/Narrative-Arc-What-Is-Narrative-Arc-In-Literature.htm

Lope de Vega, the Seventeenth-century Spanish playwright, suggested a simplified three-part structure: situation > complication > unfolding / dénouement. Of course, the complications may be multiple, resulting in an action that runs situation > complication > further complications > complicating the complications > even more complications > even more complicated complications > and then the final unraveling of the ‘by now very twisted’ plot. An even simpler two-part definition, also from Spain’s Seventeenth-century, offers us the dual structure of a ‘world in disorder’ > ‘a world in order’ — how the characters progress from disorder to order is up to you as a writer.

Of course, the author may decide NOT to tie up all the loose ends and re-order the world to perfection. When this happens, we may have a dystopia: the disaster continues; or we may have an open ending that prompts the reader to wonder what might happen or what might have happened. As for ‘beginning at the beginning,’ there are also stories that begin in the middle (in media res) and then go backwards in time before going forwards again. This raises the awkward question: how short is a short story? I won’t attempt to answer that one here.

Whether you describe or prescribe, there are many possibilities in the world of short story telling and it is always the story that counts. If it is good, then perceived structural flaws that go against these prescriptive methods may well become a prescriptive structure for another future writer. Interior monologue and dream, for example, linked thematically but not necessarily linked in time and space, may well distort or destroy yet another structural format, that of the three classic unities of time, place, and action. these, incidentally, are expanded into four by the great Spanish playwrights (among others, I am sure) who add unity of theme to the other three.

Robin Grindstaff, in an online article entitled “Narrative Arc: what the heck is it?”, available at

http://robbgrindstaff.com/2012/03/narrative-arc-what-the-heck-is-it/

suggests yet another simplification and reshaping, of the narrative arc idea.

“Think of narrative arc as a bell curve. It starts at a point on the lower left hand side of a graph, rises in a curve to a peak, and then drops back down again. The standard narrative arc is often referred to in terms of the three-act play: a beginning, a middle, and an end.”

This is not unlike the structure outlined by Lope de Vega, except for the fact that ‘middle’ is a rather inadequate term for the multiple complications outlined in the Lope de Vega model. This statement may be a little unfair as Robin Grindstaff goes on to outline the complications that may occur in the second act in the following fashion:

“In act two, the main character must try to overcome the conflict presented by the inciting event. The character wants something, has a goal in mind. The conflict and tension of the story rise, and obstacles are thrown in the path of the character to prevent her from achieving her goal. The character faces these obstacles on her way to overcoming the conflict. The obstacles get bigger, more difficult, and the character may be on the verge of defeat or surrender. At this point, the character must make a critical decision or a moral choice that changes the direction of the story.”

Clearly the ‘obstacles that are thrown’ compare favorably with Lope’s consistent throwing of obstacles and ‘middle’ therefore becomes a euphemism for ‘complications.’ Act three allows for the climax and resolution of the story and this includes character change or ‘death in defeat’ and tragedy. I recommend this article very strongly, as it goes way beyond the outline I have offered thus far and clarifies many features of the narrative arc.

In fact, Grindstaff then references Nigel Watts, Write a Novel and Get It Published, and outlines an eight-point narrative arc that runs

stasis > trigger > quest > surprise > critical choice > climax > reversal > resolution.

This runs a close parallel to the circulated list (quoted earlier) of seven elements:

Stasis > Trigger > Quest > Surprise > Critical Choice > Climax > Resolution.

The main difference being the insertion of a reversal between the climax and the resolution.

So, we have now established an narrative arc, or a pyramid, with 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 or 8 steps included within it. This is all very prescriptive: do it and you will succeed. My greatest fear then becomes the gate-keepers, those anonymous figures who sit on shadowy selection committees, place ticks in appropriate boxes, and judge the quality of writing by consensus in committee. I can hear them now: “#7 is missing. There’s no reversal. Reject!” “I don’t like #5. The choice isn’t critical enough. Reject!”

As writers, we must remember that all these arcs and numbers are just theories. The most important thing is the command ‘Take up thy pen and write’! All the theory in the world does not produce a good short story or a good novel. In fact, the opposite may be true: too many rules may stifle our narratives at birth or choke them to death My advice: know your theories, then smash them into little pieces and create the new structures, the new formats, the next new great piece of writing that will lead you, as a writer, to boldly go where no writer has gone before.

Blessings, happy writing, and follow your creative instincts.

Thought Police

Thought Police

Why are they always men,
these blue-clad figures
who wear our dreams like badges
and stare into our eyes,
bright lights behind them,
as they check our numbers
and make us count from one to ten
and up and down again.

Be warned:
you can’t walk in the street
without seeing a curtain
flicker at a window;
unseen lips repeat your words
as they wander,
stray cats and dogs,
from house to house.

Walls have watchful eyes
and lusting ears
that clutch each wayward thought
reporting it to people
who have our best interests at heart,
or so they say.

Don’t look up
but there’s someone
leaning over you,
reading these words right now.

Gramm’er uh?

Gramm’er uh?
Wednesday Workshop on a Saturday

One year I volunteered to teach the Introduction and Welcome to University course that I had helped design. It lasted twelve weeks (a single semester) and introduced students to the basic survival skills needed to study Liberal Arts at the university level. These included reading a single book, planning and writing essays on that book, examination techniques and sitting mini-exams, how to set about research, thinking and analytical skills, all that sort of thing.

I chose to read Room with a View by E. M. Forster, partly because the film would allow students to better visualize and understand what they were reading. We read a couple of chapters a week, and every week I held a mini test on the chapters read. The test included (1) give the meaning of five words chosen from the chapter; (2) a commentary on any 2 from 3-5 single sentence extracts from the chapter; and (3) an invitation to point out (a) what was going right with the course, (b) what was going wrong; and (c) an invitation to request a one on one meeting with me. There were initially 36 students in my section of the course and although half of them had never before read a book in its entirety, 34 of them successfully completed the course.

A dictionary was one of the key components. On day one I outlined the syllabus and exhorted the students to “use the dictionary” every class, every day. In response to my request for “any questions” a young lady raised a tentative hand and whispered … “I know it’s a stupid question, sir, but …” I stopped her right there. “There’s no such thing as a stupid question,” I stated. “Whatever you want to ask, there are probably five other people who also want to ask that question, but who are afraid to raise their hands. You are the brave one. You are the first to ask. Congratulations. Now: what do you want to know?” I cannot remember what her question was, but I do know that many of the students wrote down the answer I gave her.

I followed up this speech with another one. “This is first year university. All of you have questions. Whatever your background, you may feel ignorant and lacking in knowledge. There’s no crime in that. However, if after four years you have never asked a question and you are still ignorant and lacking in knowledge, then shame on you. You have wasted four years of your life.”

The first two tests were dummy runs: no marks, just the answers. Within two weeks you could tell the students from my section of this course: they were the ones with well-thumbed dictionaries in their back-packs. They asked questions, they checked the spelling and meaning of every word, and they got their money’s worth in education.

I want to say the same thing about grammar, spelling, and punctuation. We are bloggers, we are writers, we want to be the best we can be. So: work at it. In the tabs under Review, MSWord has three very useful tools: Spelling and Grammar, Thesaurus, and Language. When I click on Spelling & Grammar, I get a message stating thatmy heading, Gramm’er uh?, is not in the dictionary. Well, surprise, surprise. S&G make several suggestions (none of them useful in this instance) but the tag Check Grammar suggests the direction my heading should be taking. Use this tool. Work with it. It will help you, if you are having difficulties. It may suggest alternatives ways of expressing yourself, one of which may turn out to be useful.

The Thesaurus tool is also very useful. As an active poet and writer I am always looking for different ways to express my thoughts, and synonyms (words of the same meaning) and antonyms (words with the opposite meaning) are most useful since they assist me in my search for better ways to express myself. When I clicked on Thesaurus, better was highlighted and well over fifty different ways of expressing better (and its opposites) were laid out before me. Scanning them rapidly, I thought of various ways in which the sentence that included the word better could be bettered / enhanced / improved / ameliorated / developed / or simply changed for the better.

As for the Language tab, well: I was educated in Wales and England (English UK) but moved to Canada (English Can) and published widely in the USA (English USA). Spelling changes, as do word meanings, and the English I now speak and write just isn’t the English I learned in school. I need to check my spelling across three variants. Auto-correct will do this for me. But I need to be aware of which spelling system I have clicked upon, or all will not be well. MSWord will also auto-correct punctuation for me. I do not like this tool, especially when writing poetry, as I use punctuation for different ends within poetry. However, it does keep an eye on my writing and how I punctuate it. Speaking and writing three languages, English, French, and Spanish can also be a problem, and differentiating between, for example, profesor, professor, and professeur can sometimes be a problem: one –f- or two, one –s- or two? Auto-correct just changed my Spanish into English by adding an extra –s- … not good in a document written in Spanish.

The modern answer to the dictionary in the pocket (hence pocket dictionary, wow!) is Google. Almost anything can be Googled: grammar, punctuation, spelling, doubts, memories, facts. You can check them all out on Google. It takes only a few moments to search for something and, if necessary, to refine that search until you finally get what you are looking for. A word of warning: get your muse-inspired writing down on the page. Only check your words after you have written them. The flow of inspiration is paramount. The second thoughts that come as a result of revision and checking will usually improve your work, but there is no substitute for that initial flow of creativity.

Main message: never surrender. Never give up. We are writers. We are bloggers. We are here to explore language and to get the better of it. We want to make it work for us. There are many ways of doing this. Find the ones that suit you and slowly, bit by bit, inch by inch, turn yourself into the writer you aspire to be. And remember: if you want to break the rules, no problem. But it helps to know them first … then you know what you are breaking and are conscious of the results.

Sancho Panza

San Chopanza

Men of La Mancha

“How much did you say?
Is it in writing?
Let me see the words.
Better, since I cannot read,
let me taste the gold.

You have not brought it?
Just this paper signifying cash?
And promises? Promises
I can trust because you’re known
to keep your word?

Thank God I cannot write.
I will not make my mark.
Men like you I met
when I governed my island,
and I chased them from my realm.

Owners of hollow staffs,
muscular women
strong in the arm and weak
in defense of their honor.
Do you, sir, take me for a fool?

When you awake the man,
beware the grown-up’s fist.
Do you know who I am?
Have you read my history
that tours the world in print?

Read it, sir, and know me
for who and what I really am.
And the next time that we meet,
if you would drive a bargain,
bring gold, good food, and wine.”

People Poems 4

People Poems are dedicated to people who, for one reason or another, have distinguished themselves in my life. People Poem 4 is dedicated to Jane Tims who first encouraged me to start this blog. So, Jane: please accept this bouquet of flowers, just for you!

Jane is a wonderful poet who researches deeply into the past of New Brunswick. Her current project on New Brunswick schools and the early education system in the province takes her back in time to study the names and places on the old censuses. She then travels the back roads and visits the small country communities where the old often one-room school houses still exist. This is the research part. Then Jane imagines what life would have been like walking to those schools and working in them, in summer and winter. The result is an old world, re-created.

Other projects of Jane’s include the covered bridges of New Brunswick, all photographed, sketched, and recreated in verse. She has worked too on the fruit and vegetables of the province, all of them Within Easy Reach, the title of her latest book. An efficient and competent multi-tasker, Jane is also working currently on meniscus, a science fiction fantasy story in poetic form. I have had the privilege of reading an early version of the manuscript. In addition, I have heard Jane read extracts from it. It is a wonderful creation and I look forward to seeing it thoroughly finished.

Jane is also a great artist and I love the drawings and sketches she includes in her books. Above all, I really enjoy her paintings. This one, Apples, she gave to me not long ago when Clare and I visited her in her studio home. It hangs in our kitchen beside my chair and reminds me of the beauty of art and the nature of friendship: light, kindness, generosity, and a love for the world in all its many forms. Thank you for being here, Jane: the world is a better place with people like you in it.

Planners, Pantsters, and Thinksters: Wednesday Workshop

Planners, Pantsters, and Thinksters
Wednesday Workshop
9 November 2016

Two new writers (John King and Amy … ) have joined our writers’ group (Chuck Bowie, Kevin Stephens, John Sutherland, and Roger Moore) and now we are six (with apologies to Winnie the Pooh). In addition, we have a virtual member (Allan Hudson) and a potential member (Victor Hendricken). Amy has joined on a first name basis. Alas, there were only four of us last night: Amy, John K, Kevin and Roger; Chuck and John S were both indisposed. We wish them good health.

This leads me to the question: what is the best way to integrate new members into an already established group of writers? I have no answer. Last night’s activities seemed quite successful. First we introduced ourselves, first names only (oh dear!) and then we invited Amy to tell us about her writing. What an adventure. She has completed one novel, 110,000 words, and has two more planned in the series. She is questioning her opening chapter: is it the right one or should she begin after chapter three? Without having read the work, I personally find it difficult to give advice.

We explored some of the themes Amy presented to us and discussed a series of images that recurred and seemed to link the novel together. The idea of iterative thematic imagery serving as a leitmotiv came forward and we analyzed how repeated images can tie a novel (or a poem, or a short story) together. We spent some time on triggers that motivate actions and reactions from the characters. What is the trigger or the hook that draws the readers in, makes them look to the future, and persuades them to want to continue finding out more about the characters?

We also discussed Kevin’s favorite topic: planners and pantsters. Kevin is a planner who works everything out in advance. His charts, photos, character guides, outlines, and plans are an exemplary work of art in themselves and are highly admired by the group members. Many writers are pantsters; that means to say they pick up their pens or sit by their key-boards and write by instinct and fly by the seat of the pants. I find myself in between these two extremes, for, like Fray Luis de León and Juan de Valdés long before me, I think most of my writing out and keep it in my head until it comes time to put it down on the page. Perhaps this makes me a thinkster; I would like to think it did.

We also discussed the importance of The First Five Pages (Noah Lukeman’s book, sub-titled: a writer’s guide to staying out of the rejection pile). We invited Amy to send us her first five pages for an online critique. Our next step will be to look at the first five pages of the chapter with which she is proposing to start. It was an exciting conversation. I hope it was not a scary one for Amy’s first time out.

John K has been to one of our previous meetings, plus we had a long series of discussions with him at the WFNB meetings last weekend in Shediac. He and I helped close the hotel bar in Shediac at 1:30 am, so we are very proud of our efforts there. He presented us with the outline of a ‘tale’ that he is developing. Good man: he writes with a pen in a notebook, jotting down his ideas as they come to him and elaborating them in pen and ink, just as I do. Kevin and Amy had their tablets and their computers while John K and I had our pens and notebooks.

Without going into the details of his story and giving anything away, he walked us through the tale as he has it at present. he has great ideas, but at present is in search of a format in which to present his ‘tale’. Is it a short story? Too long and too many episodes. A novella? Could be. A full length novel? We didn’t see why not, and more and more potential episodes suggested themselves as we went along. In many ways it sounded like a film or a televisions series and John K’s active photographic mind, he has done courses in film and script writing, painted an engaging series of linked pictures, all of them with great potential. We are hoping that John K will send us an outline sketch, maybe even a storyboard, of what he is planning. Perhaps we should also ask Amy for a chapter plan, or would that be too ambitious?

As for Kevin and I, we joined in the conversation, presented commentaries and ideas, outlined some of our own plans and directions, and had a thoroughly enjoyable time. Kevin’s book DiAngelo will be released on 22 February 2017. He is at the final editing stage right now and is busy, busy, busy with the final version of the text. We are all excited for him and are pushing him to keep at it and get the first novel of his planned five novel series out, and up, and running. He is also planning a series of pre-release advertisements scenarios, all of which are sure to catch the eye of potential readers.

And that may well be the topic for another day: how do we market our books and what is the best way to attract readers?

Metaphor: Wednesday Workshop

Metaphor
Wednesday Workshop
26 October 2016

Metaphors: What are they? I must be honest: I don’t really know. I don’t understand them. I never have. I probably never will. This morning, I determined to find out what a metaphor really is. So I Googled metaphor and came up with the following definitions.

A metaphor is “a figure of speech in which a term or phrase is applied to something to which it is not literally applicable in order to suggest a resemblance.”
Well, that is pretty clear, isn’t it?
A metaphor is “something used, or regarded as being used, to represent something else; emblem; symbol.”
No doubts there.
“Metaphor is a figure of speech which makes an implicit, implied or hidden comparison between two things that are unrelated but share some common characteristics. In other words, a resemblance of two contradictory or different objects is made based on a single or some common characteristics.”
I know exactly what they mean. Or do I?
“In simple English, when you portray a person, place, thing, or an action as being something else, even though it is not actually that “something else,” you are speaking metaphorically.”
No misunderstanding here.
“A metaphor is a figure of speech that refers, for rhetorical effect, to one thing by mentioning another thing. It may provide clarity or identify hidden similarities between two ideas. Where a simile compares two items, a metaphor directly equates them, and does not use “like” or “as” as does a simile.”
Slightly clearer, but not as clear as daylight.

I turn to my blog for help and read that “The egg of my skull / shows hairline cracks: / tiny beaks pecking / fine-tuned sparks of song”. “This piece,” Tanya Cliff writes, “offers a unique and beautiful perspective on the theme (of birds).” I think I can do without the dull, dry definitions set out in the definitions above and understand metaphor as “a unique and beautiful perspective”. This functions for me. Thank you, Tanya.

Two more sequences, this time from October Angel: (1) “she gathers her evening gown / and walks among ruined flowers” (Meg Sorick’s choice) and (2) “a snapdragon opens / the frosted forge of its mouth / and sprinkles the sky / with ice-hard shards of fire” (Tanya Cliff’s choice). I can understand the first in terms of “a unique and beautiful perspective” since the picture of the October Angel is clear in my mind. In addition, evening / evening gown / ruined flowers are particularly evocative. The second sequence is much stronger as anyone who has seen the snapdragon flowers braving the ice and frost will testify.

After thinking about these three examples, I think I can now understand metaphor a little bit better. I would define a metaphor as “a brief verbal sequence that creates a new reality that offers a unique and sometimes beautiful perspective” on something that we have long known and accepted but now, thanks to the writer / poet, see in a different light.

This personal definition allows us to distinguish with ease between dead metaphors and clichés like dead as a door nail or avoid it like the plague while allowing us to enjoy the permutations that spring from the innovation of the true metaphoric sequence. The metaphoric sequence also allows us to distinguish between a two word metaphor and a series of metaphors that are thematically linked.

From my own poetry, ruined flowers would be an example of the first while the longer sequence a snapdragon opens / the frosted forge of its mouth / and sprinkles the sky / with ice-hard shards of fire would be an example of the second. Iterative thematic imagery, a form of sequenced metaphor chains, then links the whole work, be it poem or longer piece, within an associative semantic field of parallel meanings. This also illustrates the idea of differentiating between the inorganic and organic conceit, where the inorganic conceit is the example of a single, independent instance while the organic conceit is woven into the fabric of the oeuvre.

If I now apply my own definition back to last night’s conversations, when mathematics turned to metaphor, I was able to grasp a new and beautiful perspective (the scientific one) on something that I had long known and accepted. My thanks to all who inspire me to write and commentate and particularly to those who participated with me in this discussion: Chuck Bowie, Tanya Cliff, Meg Sorick, Kevin Stephens, and John Sutherland.

In Absentia 4

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In Absentia 4
Kibble

I pick up the cat’s bowl with the claw and place the bowl by the cat food. No kibble. So, holding the blue plastic measuring spoon in one hand I take my two canes and balance the spoon between my right thumb and the cane handle. Then I limp down the corridor to the laundry room where I store the kibble. I fill the measuring spoon from the packet, reseal the bag, pick up my canes and wedge the now full measuring spoon back between thumb and cane handle. The cat mews happily and runs out between my legs. I lurch and … disaster … the spoon slips from my arthritic fingers and the kibble forms neat, rolling patterns on the floor.

What can I do? I think immediately of the Dyson and limp into the hall where I have left it. I extend the handle, hold the handle with my right hand, cane and all, and push the Dyson down to where the cat is feasting. I plug the Dyson in and switch it on. One rumble from the Dyson and the cat abandons the kibble and seeks the safety of the basement. I manoeuvre the Dyson toward the cat food but the Dyson is in carpet mode. It beats the floor and will do nothing but push the kibble before it. I push the kibble into a neat pile and leave it there. As I turn the Dyson off, the garden kneeler catches my eye. I go to fetch it and balance it against my leg, kicking it forward so it won’t catch against my canes and trip me.

I have brought the cat’s bowl with me this time and I kneel before the kibble. Then I start picking the pieces up, one and two at a time. My back aches from the slow bending and twisting and my heart is breaking as I consider my own stupidity. Hot tears of frustration prick at my eyes and I blink them away. This operation is so long and so slow. I slip forward and place my hand palm down on the kibble. My palm is sticky with sweat and I raise a handful of kibble as I push myself up. This I scrape into the cat bowl. Using this new technique, I transfer the kibble stuck to my hand first to the cat bowl and then to the measuring cup.

It’s time to get to my feet. I cannot heave myself up on the garden kneeler’s handles and hang on to the cat food: too much risk of a second spill. I have leaned the claw against the all with my sticks so using both hands on the kneeler handles I struggle to my feet. As I do so, I knock both canes over. Now they are lying flat on the floor with the claw. The canes have a rubber tip and if I stand on the edge of it, the cane will rise in the air like magic. I do this twice. Then I use the canes to grasp the claw and the claw, now in my possession, to raise the cat food. Success!

I struggle my unbalanced way down the corridor, place my sticks on the counter, put the right amount of kibble into the cat’s bowl and, with the cane, lower the cat’s food to the floor. I glance at my watch. This operation has taken me fifteen minutes, half of which I have spent kneeling on the floor. I call the cat. The cat appears. I reach for my canes. The claw falls to the floor. I grab for it and knock down one of my canes. The cane strikes the cat who is greedily feeding. The cat jumps away and spills her water all over the floor.

I stand there, horrified. Hot wet tears of humiliation trickle down my face.