Blog - Karen A. Chase

English Lesson

August 30, 2013 By Karen A. Chase

800px-Penwriting — Fun coupling of two English words, for fans of 30Rock. Thanks, Tina Fey (and Wikimedia Commons for the photo).

This week, my sister-in-law sent me an email that we both adore. Part of it is from a poem called “The English Lesson.” A little research found it’s not really attributed to anyone, though it does sound similar to an old poem called De Chaos, by Dutch author Dr. Gerard Nolst Trenité, published in 1920. Both poems prove that English… ’tis a silly language. Here is her email, read, share, enjoy. (Even if it’s more than 250 words.)

We’ll begin with a box, and the plural is boxes,
But the plural of ox becomes oxen, not oxes.
One fowl is a goose, but two are called geese,
Yet the plural of moose should never be meese.
You may find a lone mouse or a nest full of mice,
Yet the plural of house is houses, not hice.

If the plural of man is always called men,
Why shouldn’t the plural of pan be called pen?
If I speak of my foot and show you my feet,
And I give you a boot, would a pair be called beet?
If one is a tooth and a whole set are teeth,
Why shouldn’t the plural of booth be called beeth?

Then one may be that, and three would be those,
Yet hat in the plural would never be hose,
And the plural of cat is cats, not cose.
We speak of a brother and also of brethren,
But though we say mother, we never say methren.
Then the masculine pronouns are he, his and him,
But imagine the feminine: she, shis and shim!

Let’s face it – English is a crazy language.
There is no egg in eggplant nor ham in hamburger;
Neither apple nor pine in pineapple.
English muffins weren’t invented in England .

We take English for granted, but if we explore its paradoxes,
We find that quicksand can work slowly, boxing rings are square,
And a guinea pig is neither from Guinea nor is it a pig.
And why is it that writers write, but fingers don’t fing,
Grocers don’t groce and hammers don’t ham?
Doesn’t it seem crazy that you can make amends but not one amend?
If you have a bunch of odds and ends and get rid of all but one of them,
What do you call it?

If teachers taught, why didn’t preachers praught?
If a vegetarian eats vegetables, what does a humanitarian eat?

Sometimes I think all the folks who grew up speaking English
Should be committed to an asylum for the verbally insane.
In what other language do people recite at a play and play at a recital?

We ship by truck but send cargo by ship…
We have noses that run and feet that smell.
We park in a driveway and drive in a parkway.
And how can a slim chance and a fat chance be the same,
While a wise man and a wise guy are opposites?

You have to marvel at the unique lunacy of a language
In which your house can burn up as it burns down,
In which you fill in a form by filling it out,
And in which an alarm goes off by going on.

Oh well, we can all shake our heads as we nod in agreement.

Blogging Guidelines

August 23, 2013 By Karen A. Chase

This Public Domain image is of Anna Brassey (1839-1887). She was an English traveller and writer. Her bestselling book, "A Voyage in the Sunbeam, our Home on the Ocean for Eleven Months" was published in 1878 and included this illustration. — This Public Domain image is of Anna Brassey (1839-1887). She was an English traveller and writer. Her bestselling book, “A Voyage in the Sunbeam, our Home on the Ocean for Eleven Months” was published in 1878 and included this illustration. Journals were the original blogs.

An important element in a writer’s arsenal is a blog. It proves to publishers we have an audience and we’re capable of communicating with them. It also provides us a pure, unfiltered format for our words.

However, building and maintaining a blog that is consistent, noteworthy and timely can be time-consuming. That simple fact was why I set parameters for my own blog. 250 words maximum. Post on Fridays. Always about “composition.” These guidelines have allowed me to keep it simple, and each week I learn to eliminate excess words. I delete stuff. I simplify.

Even so, I’ve missed a few Friday posts. (Hang head. Shame.) This week an editor and I were chatting about the blog she’s had since 2001. She told me that when she doesn’t post it’s “partly for lack of discipline, partly out of self-consciousness, partly for lack of focus/purpose.” Exactly.

Well, dear editor, I think readers will forgive an occasional blog holiday. Their inboxes need a break from us, too. Yes, I think the “guidelines” are important to give us direction, but we should concentrate more on what we hope to contribute long-term through the life of the blog. Inspiration. Perspective. Information. Sometimes a little entertainment. A blog is a journey, not a destination.

What blog parameters have you seen that are helpful for authors?

(FYI, this post: 226 words.)

Pauline Maier

August 16, 2013 By Karen A. Chase

One of the books I have referenced while writing my novel about the Declaration is American Scripture: Making the Declaration of Independence by Pauline Maier. Fairly early into my research I found her book, and when I still had a question or two I e-mailed her. Within a day, she responded.

This wonderful, insightful historian died this week, at age 75, and rather than take up space here with my words, I instead urge you to read the New York Times article by Douglas Martin, Pauline Maier, Historian Who Described Jefferson as ‘Overrated,’ Dies at 75.

Her enthusiasm will be missed. In her book, she writes of being able to see the Declaration in Washington for the first time. “Curiosity more than anything sent me rushing through the hot summer air across the mall to the National Archives.”

Me, too, Pauline. Me, too.

Type The Beginning

August 9, 2013 By Karen A. Chase

RolltopDesk — My Underwood typewriter on Ted’s old roll-top desk in our living room.

Typewriters. We writers love them. Historian and author David McCullough writes all his books on a typewriter for fear he will hit the delete key and wipe out a whole novel. Tom Hanks wrote an ode to typewriters for the New York Times this week. Famous authors have had their babies–specific typewriters upon which they tapped out their best work. You can see a list here.

I, too, have typewriter. It’s a 1935 Underwood. We found it in an antique store for $20. I paid another $100 to make it work. I don’t use it often because the keys are clunky and heavy, and I could seriously break a nail typing my name. But I do go to it for one reason. Beginnings.

When I’m on a regular computer I can crank out about 75 words a minute. (My brother said, “Yeah, 75 words a minute, but half of those are the delete key.) At that speed my thoughts are flying, but I’m not always discerning about the words. Word choice, to me, is never more important… imperative… paramount, than at the beginning of a book, of a chapter, or a scene.

How those moments start must fully engage the reader, so my mind must fully engage too. And that lovely old, black, heavy typewriter simply slows down my thinking. Besides, I feel like a writer at that typewriter. I feel all Hemingway. All Faulkner.

Now when I want to feel all Austen, I pick up a pen.

Fuhgettaboutit

July 26, 2013 By Karen A. Chase

Tai-wei, a foreign exchange work-visa from Taiwan, is staying with us, learning English and building street-cred.

Now through September, Ted and I have a houseguest staying with us (now considered a friend) from Taiwan. Tai-wei is working in the US on an exchange visa, and already speaks Chinese, English and Spanish. He has been sharing with us about his languages and we’ve been sharing ours. The one thing we’re all learning, is how often we use phrases that don’t make any sense at all.

Tai-wei has heard us say, “This will be great for getting some experience under your belt.” Or, “Well, it’s hump day.” Or, “Take a load off.” There is no way for someone new to the language to understand that these phrases mean he’s building a resumé, suffering through Wednesday, and sitting down. So we’ve had to explain some of them, and we’ve had to quit speaking in phrases and movie quotes.

Tai-wei has a really good English vocabulary already, so the most fun we’ve had language-wise is sharing phrases that we think are really funny, and are used casually. So we’ve been teaching him, “Fugettaboutit,” “Yeah, right. Yeah, sure,” “Don’t bust my chops,” and even the much more crass, “Don’t bust my balls,” and “Eat my shorts.” We’re certain his parents will be thrilled with this education.

In exchange Tai-wei’s teaching us some very important Chinese phrases (some of which I will not repeat here). My favorite is, “Mei quan xi” (pronounced may kwan shi). It’s kind of like saying, “fugettaboutit.” So next time someone insults you, or leaves you high-and-dry (stranded), just say, “Mei quan xi.” It’s no problem.

What other phrases do you think we should share with Tai-wei, eh?

Looking for Light

July 12, 2013 By Karen A. Chase

In an effort to get out of my writing chair, I recently began taking an impressionist painting course with local artist, Mark Hierholzer. Each week I have joined two friends, and I have stood before a canvas, trying to paint light. Not color. Not scenes. Not objects. Light.

The approach for this type of impressionist painting goes something like this: (see the images below)

Step one: look for light in terms of shapes. When you squint, where are the tones or shadows melding together? Paint those–just four to six shapes total.

Step two: now where is the next layer of light? Or the next division of light and shadow? The sides of the shrubs? In the grass or trees? Paint that.

Step three: (which also might happen four or five more times), add detail lighting. The blue path, the foreground trees. Always searching for what the light is doing. Where it is. Where it isn’t.

While my painting skills have a long way to go, I put the emphasis on the word light, because after each three hour class, what I end up feeling is light. All my hours of sitting and writing and worry slide away. We listen to classical music. Drink wine or coffee. Laugh. And we focus on the light. In life, I think I will choose to make this my focus, too. And so, painting leaves a great impression.

(Sorry, could not resist the pun. Nor could I resist the subject of my first landscape painting. These are the necessaries–outhouses–at the Wythe House in Williamsburg.)

Wythe_Privies1 — The original photo I took.

Step Four (through however many it takes): Add more lighting details in layer upon layer until done.

July 4th: Not Independence Day

July 4, 2013 By Karen A. Chase

The Dunlap Broadside first printed on July 4th. From the held at the Yale University Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library.

As you fire up the BBQ and ready your fireworks, you should realize you are technically not celebrating “independence,” but celebrating the Declaration of Independence. Here’s why.

The day the founding fathers voted to approve the resolution for independence was actually July 2nd, 1776. On that day, Americans agreed to kiss the Crown goodbye. (They didn’t agree unanimously–note how that word is missing on the above image–until July 15th though, because it took New York a while to agree to the resolution.) After July 2nd, came the drafting of a formal declaration which Congress debated and edited for a couple of days. By the time they had approved the document, it was July 4th. That’s the date that appeared on the first printed copies of the Declaration, also known as “broadsides.” (A sheet of paper printed on one side.) There were about 200 or so of those printed by John Dunlap of Philadelphia.

All along we’ve celebrated independence on July 4th, because that’s the date the public first saw printed on the broadsides. There were no signatures on these copies, because they were typeset. The big Declaration of Independence, the parchment most of us recognize with the signatures at the bottom, didn’t come until later.

As for those original 200 broadsides, there were 24 known copies up until 1989. Then a painting was bought for $4 at a flea market for the frame. Behind the canvas was a 25th copy. It sold for $2.4 million. A 26th copy was “found” in the National Archives is Kew, England in 1990.

Learning to Publish

June 28, 2013 By Karen A. Chase

The panel of authors at the James River Writers Show. (Left to right) Julie Geen, me, Deb Dudley, and Meg Medina.

The tables have turned a bit with my writing, and I’ve recently been asked to speak at writing workshops. The first show was at the Roanoke Regional Writing Conference Series (see pics here), talking about taking a blog to book. My second was here in Richmond at the James River Writers Show on a panel about building an author platform. In both cases, I discovered that although I had been asked to come share my expertise since I published my first book, I still have so much to learn.

The publishing industry is changing rapidly, so that the old models about publishing are not the same. It used to be that there was traditional publishing (book deal, advance, royalties) or there was self-publishing. But now… there are more and more groups springing up in between, and so many more options for authors to craft their career path, instead of waiting to be picked up by agents and publishers.

The most important thing I’ve learned from preparing for and doing these talks is that I must continually study the industry. I have to be curious. I have to read–mostly online, because it’s changing too fast to put it into print. I need real-time data. I thought I would share a few tidbits and resources.

Visit AgentQuery.net
The best general info to get the gist on standard things in publishing.

Read Writers Digest and Poets and Writers

Embrace Google and search for:
• Tips for writing conferences
• Developmental editing vs copyediting
• Author Platform
• Author Blogs
• Why authors tweet
• Social media for authors
• Why book trailers
• Createspace versus Lightning source
• Book publishing royalties
• Non-traditional publishers
• (and whatever baffles you about publishing)

So, what does baffle you about the industry?

Flag Day: Does That Star-spangled Banner Yet Wave?

June 14, 2013 By Karen A. Chase

A photo of the flag outside UVA, Jefferson's University taken in March. Once again, at half-staff, to honor policemen killed in the line of duty. – Photo by Andrew Eddy. — A photo of the flag outside UVA, Jefferson’s University, taken in May. At half-staff, to honor American policemen killed in the line of duty. – Photo by Andrew Eddy.

When Francis Scott Key wrote the Star Spangled Banner, it was because he was inspired. Through bombs bursting over Fort McHenry in Baltimore, he watched from a distant ship and waited for a sign that the British had not defeated the Americans. For twenty-five hours he waited, until finally “through the dawn’s early light” he saw a sign of hope. The flag–then consisting of 8 red and 7 white stripes, and 15 stars–still waving. Tall. Strong. Free. He took a letter from his pocket and wrote the poem on the back that would become the American National Anthem.

Whenever I see the American flag, I have often thought of his words. The poem sums up what our flag should represent; a celebration of not just survival, but our ability to thrive. The flag is a promise. At full-staff, and even half-staff. When I have seen a flag at half-staff, I’ve often wondered “whose life are we celebrating today?” Which long-term giver, social-reformer, or public official has died who helped make America better?

But not lately.

Now when I see a flag at half-staff, I worry. “What happened?” “What tragedy will I see on the news now?” I have seen our flag too often at half-staff, and it saddens me. Has our flag become a signal not of hope, but of our failures? Does it represent lives cut short? Terror? Immense grief for more Americans unable to fulfill the promise and the freedom our veterans helped to secure?

We can do better. We must do better.

So on this flag day, I’ll hope you’ll share the full poem by Francis Scott Key with your family. Tell them the story. I hope we as a nation can focus on the fact it should fly “o’er the land of the free and the home of the brave?” We can not simply sing the words. Our actions must raise our flag until it is gallantly streaming.

Knight Writers

May 17, 2013 By Karen A. Chase

This week I was very happily visited by Andrew Eddy, a fellow writer from Provence featured in my book, Bonjour 40. While he was here we went to Charlottesville, visiting Thomas Jefferson’s Monticello, and quite naturally, we hit an overwhelming number of bookstores. In a rare and antiquarian bookshop, I found a lovely copy of Ann Patchett’s book What Now?. Andrew and I went to the desk to pay, and both of us stood silent and mortified. There behind the counter was an owner of the store, with a knife in hand, slicing stone-engraved, hand-colored images of Medieval knights like the one above out of three antique books.

“It doesn’t bother you cutting up old books?” I gently asked. The man just shrugged as he tried to rationalize his craft. “It’s not as if it’s rare, dozens of colleges and bookstores have these… They’re too expensive for people to buy now because no one collects books… If I can sell the images for $95 a piece, I make more than having a book on my shelf I can’t sell… It’s what I need to do.”

I felt sad for the historians and future generations who will never see those books. I felt bad for the illustrations of the knights separated from one another, and from the words that explained them. I have an image of a book collector–ten, fifty or even one hundred years from now–cursing that stupid bookseller for tearing apart such a special book, as they struggle to recollect the images.

And what if it is rare? It reminds me of the story of the last man on Easter Island who cut down the last tree. It’s what I need to do, he probably said. And then their civilization died, and they had no way to make books to explain themselves!

So there were Andrew and I on one side of the counter, knowing we are pouring time and energy into building books we hope will be cherished for generations, while on the other side the books of our predecessors were slaughtered for parts. Bottom line, it wasn’t about the books, it was about bottom line. I think both Andrew and I would rather be on this side of the counter struggling to be brave knights creating, not destroying the words.

And as for that comment on the three books being rare, I’ll let you be the judge. The set he was slicing up was from 1824. A collection on ancient armor. The sets range in price from $3000-$7500 on ABE Books.