He hadn't written anything in nearly a year. No. That wasn't entirely true. He had written something. Many somethings. Many somethings tantamount to nothing. They were no more than writing exercises. He would start with an idea, a wonderful idea, a brilliant beginning and it would go nowhere after a day. His flirtatious romance with inspiration was just that. His obsession with her kept him in withdrawal when she left and his sense of direction deteriorated. In his languor, he wondered why he kept to such deleterious circumstances. And then, she returned.
He hadn't written anything in nearly a year. No. That wasn't entirely true. He had written something. Many somethings. Many somethings tantamount to nothing. They were no more than writing exercises. He would start with an idea, a wonderful idea, a brilliant beginning and it would go nowhere after a day. His flirtatious romance with inspiration was just that. His obsession with her kept him in withdrawal when she left and his sense of direction deteriorated. In his languor, he wondered why he kept to such deleterious circumstances. And then, she returned.
She took him by the hand whispered sweet nothings in his ear. He smiled with relief. She suggested he put away his pen and paper so they could both roam the face of the earth in search of something epic to write about together.
Commas are cool, but I don't use commas all that much, not as much as people who use too many commas, pretty much only to append clauses, especially in explanation, because I never seem to get everything down in the first try, like how this sentence is.
My thread has less than 20 replies....
That's because it's new.
She took him by the hand whispered sweet nothings in his ear. He smiled with relief. She suggested he put away his pen and paper so they could both roam the face of the earth in search of something epic to write about together.
A response! Hurrah!
Yesterday, He Dreamt
Through, the look-ing glass, the wind-ow pane the val-e-tu-di-nar-ian sighed com-po-sed-ly. A hand rested upon the pul-ver-a-tri-cious sill and out there, on a hill qua-qua-ver-sal, ab-squa-tu-late, a-bro-gate, like the um-bri-phi-lous and om-bro-phi-lous to and from the um-bri-fer-ous, they go. The ver-si-mil-i-tude of the vel-le-it-y was u-bi-qui-tous, im-per-cep-ti-bl-y tin-tin-na-bul-ous. It was not gran-di-lo-quence, not this, he was not a vo-cab-u-lar-i-an. His speech would have been de-mar-ca-ted with di-a-cri-tics. He was pan-ur-gic but e-lum-ba-ted.
That reads like something Pozzo's steed would have uttered before his great decline.
I haven't a clue what that means unfortunately. Pozzo sounds like that guy from that play, what's it called, by some famous guy who knew James Joyce. Can't remember his name. I keep thinking Ibsen, but I know that's not right.
so-orr-y Gantic, wh-a-t did you say?
Look up the words?
To put it into a six words (and thereby condensing the first sentence): Looking out the window, he sighed.
This thread is constantly changing in meaning and topic; mostly based on whatever Gantic has put out lately, and the points being discussed. Like a sentient being, really. ------- I've always been a huge comma maniac; I'm also starting to use semicolons. I think it's because of my young and impressionable 12-year-old mind along with Daniel Defoe's famous three page sentences, mainly. ---- My favorite piece of yours so far was probably the introduction, as the language in it was used so intelligently to display the meaninglessness of the protagonist's literary exploits until the beginning: "many somethings, all tantamount to nothing." Since I read that, I've been saying the word "tantamount," because I had rarely used it before. ----- The latest few have been good too! All of theses are very high quality.
This thread is a collection of Gantic's writings. I like commenting here because there's a great deal of literary depth to a lot of it. There's nothing more to it than that, really.
I learned the word "clandestine" from a troll trying to dance around his obvious troll behavior in a place where two giants sat and conversed on things I wasn't too interested in. We were the only people there. That place no longer exists.
Yes, Hemingway!
So that's what his name was! Quantum Leap guy.
There is one word missing from the end of this:
Only a Difference
The red leaf was little less than inconspicuous sitting by the curb in the early spring but he noticed it. Anyone else would have probably mistaken it for poinsettia but he knew it was a photinia leaf. He smiled to himself and continued on his way.
Whatever the last word is makes a difference in interpretation or is the difference in interpretation, including the mention that there is one more word.
Truth and Happiness
--Wow. --What? --I never realized that there was a fisherman in this picture. --So? --I have had this picture for three years now and I've never realized that there was a fisherman in the picture. --You know why Jane left? --When? --Uh... --Nah. I'm just playing with you. Life isn't all metaphors.
