Visualize This

Apprentice Writer is part ninja, part monkey, part stairmaster cyborg.
What on earth, you say?

AW will tell you.

Or more accurately, Chris Baty will tell you. The father of the global phenomenon of National Novel Writing Month (which outgrew the 'National' adjective many years ago) sends pep talks to the tens of thousands of participants at strategic times. The most recent such motivator urged lagging participants (that would be AW, not those credibility-challenged imbeciles whose wordcount bars changed color to signify 50k achieved on Day 2) to write in thousand word sprints, imagining a staircase of a thousand steps.

Adieu, Gentle Reader. AW has laced up her running shoes and is set for (keyboard) exercise.

NOVEMBER APPROACHING: Insanity Warning

Last days of October.

The Gentle Reader knows what that means.

NATIONAL NOVEL WRITING MONTH.

Yes, Apprentice Writer has signed up for the '30 Days of Literary Abandon' again, armed only with a snippet of an idea culled from, of all things, a newspaper article announcing the kickoff of a restaurant critic's new food column, and the story of how he and his first guest met. That's all that was needed to commit to writing 50,000 fresh new somehow-or-other connected words. No plotpoints, no character outlines - heck, no character names! - none of that. It's the month of writing dangerously, after all.

Even better, last night AW attended a coffee-house get-together (what in the world would literary types do without coffee-houses, those Boardrooms of the vocabulary rich and wallet poor?) of fellow Wrimos in York region. It was a mixed bunch: male, female, student, day-jobber, midlifer, married-with-kids, not-yet-dating. All with two things in common.

Tendency to laugh a lot (there was many a sidelong glance from other patrons, and the occasional barrista).

Eyes shining with the light of excitement at their utterly unique, kick-ass literary idea that each could not wait to plunge into. Atomic koalas? Time travel philosophy? Quest in the BC interior? Leprechauns? Innercity ecocults? Brunch journalism? You bet.

We all signed our NanNoWriMo contracts ("..pledge to leave our work unmolested by Inner Editors...to let our innate creativity and brilliance free rein...." etc.) and planned to meet again in a week's time so as to bolster fading enthusiasm and brainstorm plot stoppages.

AW will be working on her Nanovel most Monday, Wednesday, and Friday mornings between 9:30-11:15 at the Richmond Hill Central Library on the second floor at one of the south-looking solo window tables. If you like - please join her.

Or join the overall insanity: www.nanowrimo.org
Wrimos of York region have a thread on the 'Forums: Canada: Ontario: Elsewhere' board.

"Hail and Farewell, Great Miscommunicator"

The planet is on the verge of what may be the most anticipated (certainly, the most watched) hand-over of political power ever.

Prisoners-of-war, comedians, the military-industrial complex, celebrity impersonators, the newly jobless - all have their personal reasons for eyeing this development with joy or trepidation. As a fan of new word inventions, Apprentice Writer will admit to a pang of sadness at the thought that Mr. Bush's creations will now be less visible to the public. To mark the final day of office, here AW's salute to some of her favorites.

BIGACY (as in: "...I denounced anti-Catholic bigacy."

EXPLORATIONISTS (as in"...explorationists are willing to move equipment...")

EMBETTER (as in "...work hard to embetter themselves...")

TERRIERS AND BARRIFFS (as in"...if the T & B are torn down, the economy will grow.")

RESIGNATE (as in: "...the issue doesn't seem to resignate with the people.")

and final drumroll for,

MISUNDERESTIMATED (as in: "[America's enemies] misunderestimated me.")

The President-Elect may be a gifted orator, but something tells AW that he is not as expert as the soon-to-be-former President in the art of word creation.

*(Post title taken from The Toronto Star, 14 Jan. 2009)

Word Dares - Spring Equinox Edition

The official first day of spring - March 21 - has officially come and gone. Oblivious (or mocking, depending on one's point of view), monumental snow heaps continue to blight the landscape in Apprentice Writer's corner of the world, where the possibility of breaking the record for most snowfall ever recorded in a single March is within reach. In honor of this apparent defiance of global warming, here today's word invention:


Marzivan , (noun): the thick layer of pristine snow topping your vehicle, making it resemble an iced fruitcake on wheels.

Wordsmith: Maribeth Graham Source: The Toronto Star

Word Dares

Mouse Potato (n) : a person as attached to their computer as a couch potato is to their couch.



Word smith: unknown




Apprentice Writer gives it a spin:
"Ella knew she had a bad case of mouse-potatoitis the day she spent more time vaccuuming her keyboard than her carpet."

What's your spin?

Word Dares

This week's new word creation:

Connectile Dysfunction (noun) : inability to connect. Most commonly associated with cell phones and laptop computers with Wifi cards.
Word Smith: unknown Source: Buzzwhack.com


Finally, a dysfunction truly free of gender-preference. Men and women enjoy it equally.

Word Dares

In a follow-up to the previous post, the definition of a freshly created and evocative word comes to us straight from it's inventor.

Pencil Face (noun) : "a person with a long face, a pointed nose, a yellow pall, and an implicated lack of humor"

Word Smith: Lani Diane Rich Source: 'Time Off for Good Behavior'

Usually Apprentice Writer takes a stab at writing a sentence applying the new creation, and dares Gentle Readers to do so as well in the comments. This week, the original will stand instead:
" ...the defense lawyer representing the sleazeballs..was definitely not Mother Teresa. Instead, he was a pencil-faced guy, the kind who couldn't smile without sneering just a little. The sort of guy..demanding that the Salvation Army volunteer stop ringing that damn bell and write him a receipt."

Word Dares

Today's word is one of those creations so obvious in hindsight that multitudes of readers will ask themseves why they didn't think of it before. Apprentice Writer predicts it will sweep the net.

BLOGATUS (noun) : blog + hiatus

Wordsmith: Wylie Kinson Source: Wylie's Words, wyliekinson.blogspot.com

Go ahead, give it a spin. Apprentice Writer's: "Still being a new and relatively undiscovered blogger, Ella worried that if she took a blogatus her trickle of semi-regular readers would dry up - never to return."

Word Dares

Time for another new creation, and the weekly invitation for the Gentle Reader to give it a test drive in the comments.


Love Quadrangle noun
Word Smith: Bonnie Staring

UPDATE - our intrepid word smith has provided a definition and the original sentence in the comments! Give it a look!


Apprentice Writer gives it a spin:
"Ella knew she had no hope of ever forming a corner of a love quadrangle. Not only did she lack the necessary time management skills, but she had failed geometry at school."

Word Dares

Time for the weekly dose of word-level creativity! Today's candidate is:

ARMAJELLO: noun
'the saggy underside of the upper arm, commonly found on ageing adults.'
Word Smith: Jeannette Page Source: 'Wanted Words 2', Jane Farrow (Ed.)

Apprentice Writer's stab at application:
"Ella wasn't a gym devotee by nature. But she chose to live in a climate which allowed sleeveless tops year-round, so the shuddering vision of future armajello guaranteed her regular dates with the hand weights."

New Word Dares

It's Monday - time to showcase some new words for your creative pleasure. This week we have two candidates:

1. FLUGAH: noun - the feeling when one first sits down after being run off one's arse for many a day.
Wordsmith: Amy Ruttan (learn about Amy's new book release at her site)

I'll let Amy provide an example of application in the comments, if she likes.


2. DARK-THIRTY: noun - half an hour after sunset
Wordsmith: unknown Source: pseudodictionary.com

Here's my stab at it: "Ella felt it was very daring of her to stay out till dark-thirty to watch the fireworks, given how often her mother invoked the urban legend of children who mistook rocks for balls in the twilight and broke their feet."

Word Dares

I am a word geek.

It delights me to encounter unknown ones, try to figure out root meanings, dabble in different ways of applying regular ones. J.K.Rowling is brilliant at this kind of tweaking; who didn't immediately understand evocative terms like Dementor (demented + tormentor + demon), Pensieve (a sieve for one's thoughts when one had too many in one's brain [pensive=thoughtful]), or Kreecher (creature + creep + screach [the sneaky, ill-tempered house elf ]), to name but a few.

I'm especially fascinated by how completely new words are born. To me, this is the beauty of language; it is not a static or dead, but a dynamic, ever-growing organism. The ultimate successful evolutionary species, one could say, perfectly capable of adapting to changing circumstances to stay alive.

Also, it's democratic. Anyone can invent a new word and toss it into the public vocabulary pool. Whether it will sink or swim into general usage depends on many things, not least of which is exposure. Who first invented the word groovy? Bombastic? Fog? I don't know, but they captured the imagination of enough people to stand the test of time.

I think part of the role of writers is not just to use established words well, but to demonstrate how to play with them, and, yes, be bold in creating new ones. It can be our equivalent of artists who develop another style of painting, musicians who play a new sound, dancers who work out a different form of expressive movement.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not saying writers shouldn't take the time to learn about traditional writing vocabulary. I just think that there should be room for both - the well-known and also the avant garde.

My fellow writers - in the spirit of public service, let's be adventurous! Let's build new words and include cool creations of others in our work, without fear that our readers won't understand. Readers are smart. Chances are, they'll not only understand but enjoy a little something different. (Note: 'a little something'. Small doses are probably best.)

In a salute to the genius of word inventors everywhere,

I'm going to promote new word survival by regularly highlighting an example here,

and daring my gentle readers to share how they might use it in a sentence - even better, if it showcases the genre in which they write.

I'll kick things off with:

UNDERCARMENT :
noun- the coattail, dress hem, or seat belt that hangs out the door of moving vehicles
(Wordsmith: Mallory Burton
Source: 'Wanted Words: Language Gaps Found and Fixed', Jane Farrow (Ed.)

And here's my contribution:
"Ella felt calm and confident in her choice of party-wear, oblivious to the fact that her undercarment was destined to drip slush equally on the venue floor and her reputation as a fashionista."

Go ahead. Thrill me with your contributions.