Diehards

Tuesday, 15 April 2008

Notice

This blogger is temporarily out of order. Our engineers are working round the clock to try and fix her, but bits keep breaking off.

I have a deadline that is beginning to leave teethmarks and I am so far off satisfying it that I'm seriously considering running away. It's not really asking that much: three poems and five thousand words of prose that, although they can be separated to an extent, must make a coherent whole. Oh, I almost forgot, there is also a one thousand word essay. My problem is choosing the right words to give it. Of all the thousands of words I've written, which ones will make it happiest? It's beginning to seem like a malevolent god. It has all the power, and I am a peasant trying to keep it from destroying my hovel. And I know it's a fussy bastard. The work needs to be accomplished, but is my idea of accomplished the same as its idea of it? What makes a poem accomplished, and how does a non-poet achieve it?

My head is currently bursting with terms like 'dactylic hexameter',' 'trochaic substitution.' 'caesura,' and 'bang, bang, bang, crash, alliterative hemistich.'

Stress, rhythm, form, shape, rhyme, half-rhyme, denotation, connotation, stanza, meter, ternary-foot, binary-foot, all these aspects, and probably more that I have forgotten, must be considered, and then chosen to form a harmonious whole. Do you remember the poem I recorded for the Storytellers Blog? Well apparently its 'sound sense' breaks down about half way through. So I'm currently trying to glue it back together without losing the meaning altogether.

I'm also trying to polish up a short story so that the reader is given enough information to let them know what's going on, but not so much that their imagination is disengaged. And, work out which part of a chapter on Nietzsche's concept of Will to Power to include. Two other poems also need to be worked on and, finally the introductory essay will have to be written. Not to mention the problem of typos, I am such a rubbish typist, but odd spellings and punctuation will lose me marks that I cant afford to lose.

I have fifteen days.

I need a secretary.

So, until the deed is done I'm afraid there will be no more Camper Van tales, or any other tales. I will, on occasion, visit the blogs of you chaps, it will be a nice diversion, but I may not comment because that usually takes a bit of effort.

Wish me luck, or judgment...