The million words


I forget if I read it or discerned it in myself but the first million words don’t count. The process of developement has the appearance of a loaf of bread. The first million are bread but not soft, not pleasing to the eye but hopefully edible or almost edible like War and Peace the literary heal sorry Tolstoy you’re not to my taste. King say’s come to the blank page anyway you want but don’t come to it lightly. I like that quote it covers the writer’s block feeling in a side long glance. I have never been blocked I only lack the craft to service the ideas that lurk in the depths of what corridors my mind possesses. I desire to give those characters a life worth having, worth hearing, good and free. I think I blew the punctuation in that sentence pretty badly. No grammar wiz here if you haven’t figured that out yet. I struggle with thoughts and some times dialogue of characters. I also think words and forget to type them if the thought gets ahead of me.

I keep a list of books I have read but instead I lose sight of the purpose that serves.

My current books are True at first light- Hemingway and I just finished

Moby Dick- Melville. I put off Moby for a long time as I didn’t like the movies. It doesn’t translate well as Melville writes an equal share of  philosophy and whaling into his book. You miss the philosophy in the movies.

I also just finished a short book about Mr. Shakespeare’s life. He was quite a man gave his soul to god but still shrewd enough to put a curse on his grave.

I’m going to do some research on Iambic pentameter for my letter.

A line of iambic pentameter is five iambic feet in a row:

da DUM da DUM da DUM da DUM da DUM

The tick-TOCK rhythm of iambic pentameter can be heard in the opening line of Shakespeare’s Sonnet 12:

When I do count the clock that tells the time
God help me with this one.
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