January 31, 2015
Nicholas C. Burbules made that statement in a scholarly paper he wrote on the occupation of editing in a culturally diverse world.
Said another way: when I send in a piece of fiction for publication in a magazine, book, or for that matter … a professor to grade: if said piece of prose is not up to a particular editor’s level, or a particular instructor’s literary range of writing (off setting problems with grammar, punctuation, and correct word usage of course), then isn’t that indeed a form of cultural imperialism?
Who is really to say what good writing is? Has it to do with the rhetorical subscript set by some unseen source as to what is acceptable. Is it the readership of said piece that accounts for what is quality?
I dare say: “He who rules the present – rules the past; and in turn, rules the standards set to rule the present.” Is an oxymoron at work here?
I suppose there must be some standards by which we live our lives. Ahh … the irony of it all.
Best to all,
January 24, 2015
I ask you …. is there really any truth in opinions … or is it all just a fantasy of someone elses ego? If you look back to the time of the great philosophers, Aristotle, and the like, one would think that the charge of independent thought without any qualifing evidence is just a brash outburst of a small spoiled child..
Hummmm …. maybe there is some truth in that.
Oddly enough, I just finished a product review on Amazon which has to do with a digital download of a book to my Kindle device. I found the content and information given very good; however, the grammar and structural errors made me wonder if the booklet had been proof-read .
It was very distracting.
I did include that I realized the problems with downloading printed formating to digital sometime has its problems. I’ve had pieces published that either had formating “hick-ups,” or the editors just decided to do it their way.
*That, of course, is just my opinion.
best to all,
January 10, 2015
Sudden Fiction is like a “quick” draw contest: prompt > draw > fire.. It’s all over in nine hundred and ninety nine words or less. This ain’t no time to choke there hombre. Like the sun at high noon, your mouth goes dry, and it’s time to show what-your-made-of; after all, isn’t that what people like us like to do … write.
Sudden Fiction projects from my pen using as a mode of creativeness: the objective correlative. or some such. As much as I love and use adverbs, and adjectives to color my long verse; the metaphor fills my needs so much the better in this genre of sun baked dust and cordite.
I’ve always liked this following piece I put together some time ago. It just kind of rolls down-hill and ends on an emotional step.
Dead at High Noon
by: G.K. Brannen
Cordite filled the air;
twas in my nostrils, twas in my eyes,
twisted left, twisted right
Cordite filled the air
Poncho was fast,
faster’n I ever seen.
Poncho was quick,
quicker’n I ever been.
The gun jumped this away,
my finger stroked the trigger.
Muh arm numbed right away;
the air got stiller.
The middle of the
street. Blood-guts “n”
gore. Dog howl, hoot-owl
The breeze reeked of
spent-powder, deadly as
we go. Everth’n that
was dead at high-noon.
Writing “flash or sudden” fiction has just kind of rolled on me like a soft tide. I’m in the process of longer short story writing and, of course, academia writing; thus I need a mental break, and short poetic/non-poetic, rhyme and non-rhyme prose allows that relief to the psyche: bless our craniums anyway.
I’m sure I missed something I wanted to say … it’ll come to me.