Saturday, January 13, 2007


Snoozing at the keyboard will make for a lovely blog entry. I forgot to go to sleep last night until about 3:30 because I was reading an interesting novel. Finished it. Said a couple of colorful words when I realized how late (or early depending upon your point of view) it was. This wasn't the first time. Won't be the last time.

I love to read. Fiction, specifically science fiction or historical adventure. Why should I read contemporary literature? I live in the here and now; when I read I'm looking to escape from real life. My guidelines are really fairly simple -- if anyone in the story is driving a car, I don't read it. Space ship, cool. Ox cart, good. Chevy Cavalier, bad. I will, however, make an exception for Precious Ramotswe's tiny white van (how could anyone not love The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency?)

I've been trying to write a limerick for tonight, but I'm too groggy. It's not progressing beyond the first two lines. I like the first two lines and I think I know where I want to go, but it's not popping into my head.

Limericks are fun to write. First thing is to get down the pattern. To do that I recite the old classic:

There was a young lady named Bright
Whose speed was much faster than light
She set out one day
In her relative way
And returned on the previous night.

And there has to be a topic. Give me a topic and some time to chew on it, and I can produce a limerick. I won't promise it will be a good limerick (is there such a thing?), but I will write one.

When I have my topic I think about appropriate words, then about words that rhyme with those words. I mumble under my breath a lot.

Eventually I start to write lines down. Sometimes I like then, sometimes I hate them. I jimmy things around, erase and rewrite, mumble some more. Then I price rhyming dictionaries on, never buy one, though. Mumbling turns into grumbling, then, suddenly, epiphany! There's a limerick!

But I'm too groggy tonight. My head is fuzzy and my thoughts keep sliding off sideways. So here's one I wrote a while ago:

A stern Bible thumper, McFlarity
Despised any kind of hilarity
He got down on his knees
And he asked the Lord, Please,
To preserve him from all jocularity.

Somehow a picture of a robin laying an egg seemed appropriate here.

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