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I'm blogging a bit later than usual because I've been writing. Like a loon, actually, although I have to confess I'm not sure how a loon would write, or, indeed what a loon is. Some sort of animal, I'm presuming, which would mean trying to type with paws... Or is a bird? Because that only complicates matters; birds don't have much at their disposal to make typing easy, or even possible, although I suppose they could use their beaks and sort of peck at the keyboard, but this would be slow and frustrating, always supposing birds are capable of frustration. Anyway. That's how I've been writing.
And I've run out of words. Yep, completely. Just poured them all down on the paper, splurge splurge splurge, with a sound like a walrus attempting to get out of a jelly bath. That was the noise the ideas made as they hit the page, I hasten to add, I wasn't sitting here doing impersonations or anything. And, in consequence, I only have three words left sitting in my head, unrequired by my current work in progress. These are, in no particular order, mast, rhinoceros, and Englebert Humperdink. I know that Englebert Humperdink is two words, but since they are a name, which is the name of one person, I'm counting them as one.
This leaves me at a bit of a loss. How on earth am I supposed to construct a blog around those three words (or four, if you're being pedantic or don't know who Englebert Humperdink is)? Even if it were possible, what kind of blog post would it be? I mean, I ask you, I don't sail, I'm not a big game hunter, and I have no interest in whatever it is that Englebert Humperdink might be up to these days! So these are the three (four) most useless words to have left in my vocabulary, added to which I still have to finish the book on which all my other words have been used...
So, in a year or so's time, if you pick up a book by me and read through its lovingly handcrafted pages (all the time wondering what that squelching sound could be), and then, upon reaching the denouement, you find that the final page contains only the words mast rhinoceros and Englebert Humperdink, please feel free to flip back to this blog post and pity me.
Even kittens aren't going to get me out of this one.
13 comments:
I hear you, Jane. I found writing 3500 words in one day had the same effect. The only word I had left was 'bed'. So I used it.
I'm off to eat Alphabetti Spaghetti now. :-)
It took me years to find this out, so I can't resist sharing it with you: loons are a Canadian (or possibly American, my research wasn't THAT good) term for divers, as in birds - red throated, black throated, great northern in this country; they're probably purple spotted, yellow crested or elephant-headed there (it took me long enough to work out they were divers without finding out local variations).
I realise this won't really help you at all, but I had to get it off my chest after all this time.
I fear bed may be one of the words I no longer have left, Laura. Am now worried I may have to sleep on a rhino.
And Littlegrebe, I am truly delighted to have given you a forum in which to display your loon-knowledge! You're right, it's not much help to me right now, but one day....yes, one day it will be vital information, rest assured.
I have one big word to describe Laura's 3.5K outpouring, fan-berludy-tastic! Reading about you and Luara though, I've decided to run my next set of words in quite gently so they don't exhaust me in the same way.
Ooh, that Littlegrebe's a fount of loon knowledge, eh?
I'm quite taken with the idea of an Elephant headed loon.
I've seen plenty of great (or not so great) Northern Loons around here. Of the human variety.
Since I should comment on the post as well as the comments... Perhaps a Mast headed Rhinoceros whose name is Englebert. Don't know what you can do about the Humperdink. There's probably pills for that.
I didn't write 3,500 words today, so I am sneaking off before any of you notice...
There should be word banks set up immediately for needy writers, or maybe you could get all your friends to donate one... I'm happy to donate SQUIRREL. In fact, if you really need a muse, I can donate an actual squirrel. Fairly well house-trained, mostly polite as long as you give him regular nuts, you will need room for an extensive wardrobe though!
Thank you all for your sympathy. It's nice to know that you all have suffered your own 'loon' moments. Chris, you are quite right to be gentle with your word bank, Rhoda, I think I've already taken the pills and that's part of my problem. Margaret, it's all right, we all saw you sidling away.. and Kath, much as I love Squizzey, I don't think I could keep up with his social whirl, or his ice-cream habit! But thank you for the thought!
I'm going to say this really quietly because it sounds sort of snotty and picky. Or picky and snotty, whatever you like.
Englebert Humperdink is indeed two. There's: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Engelbert_Humperdinck
and then there's:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Engelbert_Humperdinck_(singer)
Does that give you more choice? Or am I not helping. It's the not helping one isn't it. Yes, all right. I'm going now...
I am, to my utter amazement, enjoying edits at the moment because it's only re-using words that I've already thought up, isn't it? Well, that's my theory, and I'm sticking to it.
A loon is a bit of a dopy bird, I think...but be kind to dumb things, I say.
Hilarious post. I do hope you managed to reconstruct the word bed before falling in a heap on the stairs... then again, I suspect the kittens would have helped if only you'd have listened to them!
Humperbert Engeldinck maybe? :)
Cathie, I was aware (vaguely) that one Englebert was named after the other...I wonder what you call a stack of Engleberts? An enclave of Engleberts?
Linda, I am delighted you are enjoying edits. I'm quite fond of them myself, as long as they aren't ridiculously involved, there's something satisfying in tweaking, isn't there? And stop laughing...
Rosalind, yes, if only I'd listened to the kittens! One should always listen to kittens...
And Guernsey Girl, there is to be NO HUMPING on this blog. Or Engeldincking. This blog is an Engeldinck-free zone. You'll be glad of it, one day.
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