Showing posts with label brilliancy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label brilliancy. Show all posts

Friday, March 30, 2012

Your Daily Dose of Genius... :)

I have just begun reading P.G. Wodehouse's Thank you, Jeeves. Long had I heard about this character, Jeeves, and yet I knew nothing about him. I had heard about Bertram Wooster, of course, in Something Fresh, but sadly no Jeeves. Then I went online with a dubious expression on my face to see if our library system might have any hint of Wodehouse about it. They did. They had rather a lot of Wodehouse about them. I was very happy.
 I am proud to say that I have found another favorite author in P.G. Wodehouse. There is something about his writing that fires my brain. It doesn't pen-slay me--it's too light and laughing for that--but it inspires me and eggs me on and makes me want to sit down and write brilliant characters who have such hilarious misadventures. :) The author also has an uncanny ability to describe things in his dry, British way so that I routinely laugh aloud. Cricket was staring in a "Good grief!" way this morning as I read over a hilarious scene and chuckled to myself. He is so original he leaves me breathless and marveling. I could sit there laughing like a loon for hours...and I do. :D Here's what I mean:

"She looked as if she had been poured into her clothes and had forgotten to say 'when.'"

***

"She gave me the sort of look she would have given a leper she wasn't fond of."

***

"I could see that, if not actually disgruntled, he was far from being gruntled." <--that is pure genius in my book.

***
"The least thing upset him on the links. He missed short putts because of the uproar of the butterflies in the adjoining meadow." 

***

“What ho!" I said. 
"What ho!" said Motty. 
"What ho! What ho!" 
"What ho! What ho! What ho!" 
After that it seemed rather difficult to go on with the conversation.”

***
“There are moments, Jeeves, when one asks oneself, 'Do trousers matter?'" "The mood will pass, sir.”

***
“Lady Glossip: Mr. Wooster, how would you support a wife? Bertie Wooster: Well, I suppose it depends on who's wife it was, a little gentle pressure beneath the elbow while crossing a busy street usually fits the bill.”

***
“The drowsy stillness of the afternoon was shattered by what sounded to his strained senses like G.K. Chesterton falling on a sheet of tin.” 

If that did not cause you to snort, chuckle, laugh, or guffaw, I'm afraid it's all up with you--you must have swallowed your sense of humor by mistake when you thought it was your clumpy oatmeal. Do go fetch a doctor to examine you. I am much worried by your symptoms. ;)

Wednesday, September 21, 2011

Glimpses of Greatness


Sometimes, as in hearing our own voice for too long, we can grow weary of our own writing. Or at least I can. I begin to feel that my problems with my story, my issues with word choice or plot progression are all there is in the realm of literature. Thank heaven that is not true, for what a pickle we'd be in! So I like to refresh myself with delicious excerpts from other writers. They refresh, while at the same time challenge me to examine my writing and try to do better. So I thought I'd share with you a few excerpts that thrilled me:

Gentian Hill by Elizabeth Goudge (haven't read the book, just this quote. :)
"My name is Stella Sprigg, " said Stella. "What is your name?" To her, as to all children, names were tremendously important. Your Christian name, joining you to God, your surname linking you to your father. If you had both names you had your place in the world, walking safely along with a hand held upon either side. If you had neither you were in a bad way, you just fell down and did not belong anywhere, and if you only had one you only half belonged.
"Zachary," said the boy.
"Only Zachary?"
"Only Zachary."
"Just a Christian name?"
"That's all."
Stella looked at him with concern. Only God had hold of him. He was lopsided. She had noticed it in his gait when she first saw him walking. Then she remembered that but for Father and Mother Sprigg she would have been lopsided too, for her nameless mother had died. This memory deepened her feeling of oneness with Zachary, and she put out a small hand and laid it on his knee.
"Do you know where you come from?" she asked wonderingly.
"From the moon," replied Zachary promptly. "Haven't you seen me up there?" .....
"Zachary Moon," she said with pleasure, and felt she had got him a bit better supported upon the other side.

A Little Princess by Frances Hodgson Burnett
"Whatever comes," she said, "cannot alter one thing. If I am a princess in rags and tatters, I can be a princess inside. It would be easy to be a princess if I were dressed in cloth of gold, but it is a great deal more of a triumph to be one all the time, when no one knows it."


The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett
"As she came closer to him she noticed that there was a fresh clean scent of heather and leaves and grass about him, almost as if he were made from them. She liked it very much, and when she looked into his funny face with the red cheeks and round blue eyes, she forgot that she had felt shy."

 Anne of Green Gables by Lucy Maud Montgomery
"For we pay a price for everything we get or take in this world; and although ambitions are well worth having, they are not to be cheaply won, but exact their dues of work and self-denial, anxiety and discouragement."

The Last Battle by C.S. Lewis
“It is as hard to explain how this sunlit land was different from the old Narnia as it would be to tell you how the fruits of that country taste. Perhaps you will get some idea of it if you think like this. You may have been in a room in which there was a window that looked out on a lovely bay of the sea or a green valley that wound away among mountains. And in the wall of that room opposite to the window there may have been a looking-glass. And as you turned away from the window you suddenly caught sight of that sea or that valley, all over again, in the looking glass. And the sea in the mirror, or the valley in the mirror, were in one sense just the same as the real ones: yet at the same time they were somehow different - deeper, more wonderful, more like places in a story: in a story you have never heard but very much want to know. The difference between the old Narnia and the new Narnia was like that. The new one was a deeper country: every rock and flower and blade of grass looked as if it meant more.” 
The Magician's Nephew by C.S. Lewis
“Then two wonders happened at the same moment. One was that the voice was suddenly joined by other voices; more voices than you could possibly count. They were in harmony with it, but far higher up the scale: cold, tingling, silvery voices. The second wonder was that the blackness overhead, all at once, was blazing with stars. They didn’t come out gently one by one, as they do on a summer evening. One moment there had been nothing but darkness; next moment a thousand, thousand points of light leaped out – single stars, constellations, and planets, brighter and bigger than any in our world. There were no clouds. The new stars and the new voices began at exactly the same time. If you had seen and heard it, as Digory did, you would have felt quite certain that it was the stars themselves which were singing, and that it was the First Voice, the deep one, which had made them appear and made them sing.”


 The Silver Chair by C.S. Lewis
“One word, Ma'am," he said, coming back from the fire; limping, because of the pain. "One word. All you've been saying is quite right, I shouldn't wonder. I'm a chap who always liked to know the worst and then put the best face I can on it. So I won't deny any of what you said. But there's one more thing to be said, even so. Suppose we have only dreamed, or made up, all those things-trees and grass and sun and moon and stars and Aslan himself. Suppose we have. Then all I can say is that, in that case, the made-up things seem a good deal more important than the real ones. Suppose this black pit of a kingdom of yours is the only world. Well, it strikes me as a pretty poor one. And that's a funny thing, when you come to think of it. We're just babies making up a game, if you're right. But four babies playing a game can make a play-world which licks your real world hollow. That's why I'm going to stand by the play world. I'm on Aslan's side even if there isn't any Aslan to lead it. I'm going to live as like a Narnian as I can even if there isn't any Narnia. So, thanking you kindly for our supper, if these two gentlemen and the young lady are ready, we're leaving your court at once and setting out in the dark to spend our lives looking for Overland. Not that our lives will be very long, I should think; but that's a small loss if the world's as dull a place as you say.”
Oh mercy. I could go on and on with C.S. Lewis' Narnia all day...that man had the elusive knack for tacking down an idea with just the right word so you can practically smell what he means. :) I hope you enjoyed reading these quotes. :) What are some of your favorites? ~Rachel


Sunday, August 7, 2011

Peachy-Keen Plans :)

By virtue of our position, or perhaps more correctly, because we have the largest house among the group of families that make up our homechurch, we have hosted church each Sunday for almost 2 years. But with the coming of Levi, Dad arranged for us to take a 6-week break from hosting, and this Sunday we're staying home to rest and recuperate. :) This has very little to do with anything except to set the stage for rambling on about what I'm planning on spending my afternoon doing.

I plan to be perfectly, childishly happy. :)
I plan to bury my nose deeper in David Copperfield, losing myself in the windings of the way of its pages...

I plan to smile whenever my gaze falls upon my set of new Dickens books proudly displayed on a shelf and looking terribly tempting to a book-devourer like myself...

(No, this isn't my set....but isn't it lovely? *All* of his novels! I'd give a deal to possess that set! :)

And look what I found here!!! A miniature set of Dickens for a doll's house!

I plan to make something delectable and eat it...


I plan to take a walk and hope to meet a Gypsy Wind, if it isn't too hot and they're not hiding away in the secluded darkness of a shady nook...


I plan to hold Levi and cuddle him as much as I can...


I plan to write something mildly brilliant, if it will submit to being written...

In short, I plan to have a day that every authoress would consider a treat. :) Let's see if my plans come to fruition, or if the garden ruins it all. ;) ~Rachel