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Inkabout L. Darby Gibbs

Science Fiction & Fantasy author

creative writing

Spell-friendly dictionary

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Every writer, whether he or she is a writer of fiction or non-fiction, journalist or reviewer, must spell correctly.  As a teacher I am routinely asked by my students how to spell a word they want to use in their writing.  I always point at the dictionary.  I do understand the issue of getting a big book of words and sifting through it for the correct spelling and that they find this tedious, especially when they know I can spell the word for them much quicker.

This is why I thoroughly recommend every writer, from student to pseudo-professional to professional consider having a Webster’s Instant Word Guide or The Word Book III from Houghton Mifflin.  They do not contain definitions but are directed at spelling alone.  The majority of people who want to spell a word are not confused about its meaning.  So a speller’s word book, such as the two listed above, is ideal.  And they are small, roughly 4″ x 5 1/2″.

They are compact, to the point, easy to navigate, and they supply one crucial component: If there could be a chance of confusion with another word, both are supplied with an extremely short definition (usually one word) next to the confused alternative, so the writer can make an informed decision about which is the correct one to use and spell appropriately.

Just to add useful to convenient and the critical low “overwhelming” factor, both these books also offer conversion tables for weights and measures, spelling rules, punctuation and abbreviations sections.

I actually have both of these books.  One I keep at school on my desk and the other at home.  I introduce my new students to them every year.  And though it is never a majority, many of them do inform me at some point in the year that they have purchased one.

Last word on this:  spelling is crucial in any public writing forum.  This is a non-tedious, easy-to-use fix for the problem.  It is even quicker than an iPhone dictionary ap and does the one thing wordprocessing program dictionaries don’t do: provide you with the option of the “other word.”

Tuesday prompt: #28 2012

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 Point of view should make use of a number of characterization features.  So in this prompt, imagine a creature, intelligent or otherwise.  Write what this creature sees, but include characterization.

  • One way to supply character through point of view is to include how the creature feels about what he sees.  This does not mean that you should write that he is looking forward to eating that rabbit.  Describe the rabbit in terms of potential lunch: scrawny; plump; practical ways to avoid getting too much of that soft, white fur in his mouth; and the smell of just dead meat.  
  • Also think of word choice; you may even make a few up that would seem appropriate to your creature.  His word for snack or lunch might be “the mid-day gnarle.”  
  • Other characterization would include what is important to him. A predator would not make note of the color of the sky unless it denotes a particular time of day or season or weather important to him.
  • Consider giving him a specific quality: speed, visual acuity or discernment (he might be able to see in infrared, for example), silent movement.  
  • Consider a flaw: he drools copious amounts or suffers from the shakes or an injured hip.

Write about a paragraph.  I look forward to seeing it, so post it in the comment box.

Tuesday prompt: #27 2012

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write behind the door

Sit somewhere unusual, i.e., under a table, behind a chair, in the part of your yard no one ever goes.  Get comfortable and make sure you have something to write on: paper, iPad, laptop, paper napkin, and something to write with, pencil, pen, fingers.  Close your eyes, clear your mind, then write whatever slips in.

How to build a classroom writing community

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Day 1: but this pattern holds true for the days to follow
  • Tell them to look around at the other writers in the room (For some, this is a frightening experience, for others confirmation.)  Recognize them immediately as writers.  If you have returning students, ask them to explain the difference between this class and an English class.  Their words will be more convincing then yours.  Your actions will support what they say.
  • Provide a prompt to write to and give instructions: write about anything that comes to mind.  Give them a set amount of time, about 7 minutes.
  • Each student shares by reading his/her response to the prompt.  Encourage returning students to go first.  (I follow a seniority pattern.  By setting this now, it won’t be a surprise in a workshop [see post for June 16, 2012], and it shows the new students what behavior is expected [and accepted: writers are quirky]). Some students refuse to share; explain that you allow this occasionally, but they must at least tell what they wrote about or what they hoped to write about.  Encourage them to share the next time.
  • Each student’s work must be acknowledged.  Point out a strong image, what you think the idea might develop into, or summarize it.  Don’t forget to smile.
  •  Diversity is already present, but it is important to point it out.  New
    writers in a creative writing class will often try to emulate (or think they should) the more
    polished writers which results in the sacrifice of their own individual
    voices. So point out the diversity and how it is a bonus for the class
    to have so many different styles present.  Encourage them to help each
    other develop this diversity.
  • Begin your lesson for the day.  All writing should be shared and encouraged. No lesson should lack an opportunity to write.  Some should just be shared and left in the journal.  Some writing should be turned in and graded for effort to fulfill the task.  Grading should be gentle: attempt is much more important than result. (Final work, I grade mercilessly, but practice is a different animal.)

By having a pattern of daily writing and sharing, your class will become a community.  Be a positive role model: be specific, encouraging and excited about what they are doing.

Tuesday prompt: #26 2012

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First grab a book off a shelf, any book.  Then close your eyes, flip it open and plant your finger on the page. You are welcome to swirl your finger about if you wish first.  Where it lands is the first line of what one character says to another.  Start your story there.

Sample: “used to ride a horse, which had feet that were almost human, the hoofs being cleft like toes.”  (Hen’s Teeth and Horse’s Toes by Stephen Jay Gould, p. 177)

     “I say,” Judson said, “he used to ride a horse, which had feet that were almost human, the hoofs being cleft like toes.”
     “Are you daft?” I said.
     “Really. It’s part of history,” Judson sputtered.  “I read it just this morning.  Caesar rode such a horse.”
     I sat back on my heals and tried to look at the new born colt in this different light. The feet were not human, but there were in fact three toes on each hoof where there should have only been one solid toe.

   

Writing and kayaking: where worlds overlap

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Meandering rivers & minds

This past weekend I went kayaking with my husband and daughter.  We parked by a little lake and proceeded to launch our kayaks. Ready to go exploring, we had all been eying the source creek to our left. 

We didn’t get far into the creek before the lake disappeared and all sounds common to a lake full of campers were so dimmed that only the birds, movement of water and occasional flying wasp were heard.  I had deliberately let my husband and daughter slide on ahead of me and pass beyond the next curve just so I could take in that feeling that I was somewhere far from civilization. 

Along the banks were tight growths of trees, many of which have been undercut by resent high water flow, some having fallen partially across the creek added to the untouched feel of the place.  The cardinals and black ducks complained at our presence, and the fish were well camouflaged by the turbid water. 

I allowed the pretense of being utterly alone soak in.  Much of the sky was blocked by the canopy of trees overhead, but what showed was pale blue with occasional slashes of white clouds.  We had set out on a windy day, yet on that creek, no breeze stirred the trees, and along some lengths of the meandering river even the water was torpid and silty, where slender, curved leaves floated in stillness.

This same sense of being alone and in a untenanted place happens when I write.  The rest of the room I am in disappears and just the images filling the screen in front of me and the soft clack of the keyboard are my world.  I suppose that is why I enjoy kayaking alone so much, even if only a turn in the river up ahead creates the illusion.  The two experiences mirror each other.  I am exploring an unknown space of my own creation, my imagination building up a world.  But like the turn of the river ahead, a turn of my chair brings family up close again.