bad habits

Having only "found" writing a few years ago, there's plenty of bad habits I've worked through, and even more that I still have to overcome. I suppose all writers, as all teachers, tradesmen, and others who pursue other skilled occupations never stop learning. Sometimes when I write, I fall back into bad habits, especially when I write tired. Here's a few bad habits I've broken, or am trying to break:

• overuse of commas: Comma use is often quite arbitrary, but, I, tend, to, put, too, many, in, a, sentence, disrupting, flow, and making, it, hard, to read. Where only one comma is necessary in a three clause sentence, I'll put two. Was the comma in that last sentence necessary? Your call. I still fight this one.
• K.I.S.S.: I don't have an extraordinary vocabulary, but I often found myself using words that I found to be nearly colloquial, where simpler diction would have sufficed. My second year Creative Non-Fiction prof encouraged me to keep my writing "tight". Ameliorated written discourse eventuated.
• long, drawn out sentences: Thanks in large part to the first mentioned bad habit, my sentences occasionally approach lengths reserved for anacondas, challenging shots for the best of snipers, or intercontinental highways that make sense when I write them initially, but catch even the most experienced readers unaware; unfortunate, really, but sometimes, the desire to create an intricate monstrosity in which all subjects, predicates, pronouns and antecedents find tense and quantitative agreement is too tantalizing to pass up.
• Related to the last one, my rampant use of the "aside" can be distracting. In any form of writing, it's so tempting to take a step back and give readers another perspective using one of these: "--" (or a nice set of parentheses). 
• Finally, I often neglect to proofread what I right. Spell check doesn't cache all my errors, although I find that Word 2007's grammar check is more adept at finding disagreement than previous versions. Soon, Word will improve it's spelling and grammar check to an extent that will allow me to never proofread again!. In fact, if Coke Zero can give the world real Coke taste with zero calories, why hasn't Word found a way to do that yet?

Undoubtedly, I have more bad habits, but these are the worst of the worst.

FOCUS!

It’s Monday: 11:15 in the morning. I should definitely be studying, but I can’t focus. I’ve never been diagnosed with ADD, but, regardless, its symptoms seem to rear their ugly head  from time to time. The morning's sports highlights simply couldn’t go unwatched. I simply had to check if anybody had posted anything to their blog lately. I’d checked Saturday, but thought it necessary to check every classifieds site imaginable to see if I could land Brenda a job for when she moves back down here. I’ve probably logged into Facebook three times this morning. I’ve made lacklustre attempts to open my History textbook and review my scant notes—it’s a Saturday class. Would any of you take serious notes in a Saturday class?—but I am scatterbrained right now. I’m too busy looking forward to the end to realize that a virtual climb to Everest’s peak is necessary before I reach the end; yet it seems so tantalizingly close. This is my last ditch effort at gathering my thoughts. Maybe putting everything I’m thinking at the moment “out there” will help me focus after.
I really should be freaking out. I haven’t gotten nearly enough studying done. Most of last week was written off between coaching basketball, and running the farm due to my brother’s unexpected week-long stay in the hospital. I’ve exams this Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and Monday—the last four days of the exam period. Lame, especially when your nature is to procrastinate. At least the last one is easy. My brother is leaving for Mexico on Thursday as well, so inter-exam study time will be less than ideal. While I’m writing this, the needle on my imaginary grocery shop-like freakout scale is rapidly spinning counter-clockwise; passing the zero and going around for a second time, even.
It doesn’t help that after I’m done, I get to go up to Smithers and move Brenda back home. And it’s Christmas. Studying for finals is so much harder when there’s so much to look forward to afterwards. I guess that’s the case at the end of every semester, but this time it’s exceptional.
Alas, it’s time to give myself the proverbial self-kick in the rear—unless somebody else would like to volunteer?—and get to work. Every time I seem to pull through. I squash crunch time. I survive the pressure cooker. I take the heat; in a parka—Haha a thousand points to anyone who remembers that little inside joke. Okay it’s time to go. Or now. Yup, absolutely, now. GAH!

Aphorisms

Yesterday, my professor gave the whole class a book. For free. I love free things, never mind the fact it came from my least favorite professor. It didn't do anything to improve my opinion of the professor, but I thought I should at least show I was grateful. So, to show the professor that I was indeed grateful for his gift, I figured I'd show my anticipation and giddiness by diving right into it; right at that moment. I suppose I should mention he gave the books out at the beginning of class. Turns out, the book was an absorbing little time waster. It's called Or So I Say: Contentions and Confessions, authored by Robin Skelton, and given the label "A Happenstance Book". It's a collection of aphorisms, or--thanks Wikipedia--, "an original thought, spoken or written in a laconic and memorable form". A book of one-liners; not a collection of others', they were all penned by him. Many I didn't agree with, and he clearly wasn't a Christian, but a few were though provoking:

• When illness becomes a state of mind, the mind itself is an illness.
• Age is a matter of attitude, not chronology.
• The will to succeed is all too often the desire to imitate.
• You don't get to the top by sitting on your bottom.
• What is considered self-discipline is often nothing more than self-denial regarded as self-assertion.
• When my wife tells me I am wonderful I believe her; when anyone else does so I am dubious.
• I have always been a revolutionary, though never a politician.
• Autobiography: the fantasies of the self-therapist and the self-justifications of the traduced.
• The danger of a large vocabulary is the desire to employ it.
• If all you want is money, money is all you'll get.
• I detest wearing fancy dress; I am a poor liar.
• I teach because I must continue to learn.
• When opportunity knocks, first look through the spyhole.
• Strength is always an admission of weakness.

Thought provoking, yes; given the right frame of reference. These aphorisms, from the same book, make it clear Skelton's frame of reference isn't the same as mine:

• God is an adjective, not a noun.
• When I look again at Christianity I feel as if I am stepping back into a playpen.
• Those who create a deity are created by it.

This definitely makes him sound like a man dead set against Christianity. But other aphorisms, or as Skelton calls them , "catchphrases with class" make me think there is more to Skelton's views, and hidden is a deep-rooted insecurity:

• Christians frighten me.
• At ninety three I suspect that I might not desire reincarnation, but rather fear it.

Why the fear and insecurity? For those of you who attended the Deroche college retreat, this made me think of the final moment of the film Collision, and Hitchens’ moment of seeming insecurity when he said that if there was only one Christian left in the world, he would not convert them to atheism. In Collision, Hitchens is accused, correctly, of suffering from presuppositional  kleptomania. Given Skelton’s conclusions in the first cluster of aphorisms, his vehement denial in the second, and his insecurity in the third, I can’t help but liken Skelton to Hitchens and wonder what the film would have been like had Skelton participated. I guess not a whole lot different.

Classical-ish

Those you know me well know that I have this thing for classical music, something that is rare in the 21 year old male demographic. Not your boring, run of the mill, solo piano concerto, though I am a sucker for Mozart’s “Rondo Alla Turca”. To really catch my ear, classical music has to have layers; piano and strings, for instance. Better yet, piano backed by a full fledged orchestra. That said, let me share with you some of my favourite classical discoveries. For you snobs, we’ll call them classical-ish.

First up, the Pirates of the Caribbean soundtrack is undoubtedly the best movie soundtrack of all time. Hans Zimmer and Klaus Badelt both do amazing work, depending on which movie you’re watching:

There are other decent movie soundtracks, but none as legendary as this one. Have you heard any better? Let me know in the comments, I’d love to find some new stuff!

Roberto Cacciapaglia—say that ten times fast—is a new favourite. It’s not as up-tempo as what I usually like, but there’s something about the way the music flows. It makes great studying music, because it’s not too busy:

 

Finally, my all time favourite classical artist. William Joseph. No predicate needed. It’s just good music:

Now, down to the real reason for writing this blog. Anybody have any really good classical recommendations for me?

Rain

  It’s a typical November day on the Sumas Prairie. I’m just glad I get to experience it from this side of the picture window, a precious few feet away from the fireplace. The picture is a bit obscured, made fuzzy by the raindrops driven to the window by the restless, gusting wind. I should be doing homework, but the fireplace is emanating cozy feelings in progressively weakening concentric circles, and I’m sitting too close. It’s a funny thing, being so cozy it distracts you.

car singing

     This morning, on my way to school, I was doing my usual crooning along with whatever happened to be playing over the stereo from my mp3 player. I love singing in the car. The enclosed space provides nearly shower-like acoustics--plus the stereo, and minus the unwanted audience. Never mind the fact that when I really get into it, I become a hazard to everyone around me. It's a good thing my drive to school is all rural roads.
     Sometimes, I'll turn the stereo down so it's just loud enough to hear the vocals, and quiet enough to hear myself sing. Usually, I'm nearer baying hound hot on a coon trail than masterful vocalist, but I do what I can. Today, I challenged myself to stay as near as possible to the pitch of the playing artist as I could for three songs, and critique my results. Liken it to doing vocals for Rock Band, except you give yourself a score.
     First up was "Poison and Wine" by the Civil Wars (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WfzRlcnq_c0). It's a duet, so I played the part of John Paul White. I'm no Joy Williams. Not really much of a John Paul White either, but his is the easier part of the harmony. I had to say I didn't do too badly. My voice only cracked into a prepubescent falsetto once or twice! Anybody who has heard me sing knows what I'm talking about.
     Next up was "Would You Go With Me" (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6AST8fosZHQ) by Josh Turner. I nearly giggled when I heard him strum the opening chords. This was going to be fun. And fun it was. His looooow voice is so much fun to imitate. Again, I held together reasonably well.
     Brimming with confidence, I waited for the final song to be queued up. I was feeling pretty untouchable. You can only imagine my horror when the song "This Ain't Goodbye" (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JHdgN8t_EYw) by Train came up.
    You win, Pat Monahan. You win.

thoughts on writing and being a writer

Recently, I've been thinking about abilities as a writer; abilities I've been told I have, but abilities I've been reluctant to share with many people. From what little people have read, I've garnered positive reviews. I'm told I have the ability to express my thoughts in a way that's honest, introspective, and interesting to read. It seems, though, that no matter how much I might hear this, it's not enough to shake a deep-rooted insecurity. Already, I'm uncomfortable with the number of times I've used the pronoun "I". Recently,  I've -- and there it is again -- put a lot of thought into what writing means to me; specifically, what I want my writing to accomplish. Primarily, writing for me has always been about expressing the various rumblings that occur in my head over the course of a day. These aren't things that can be orated as I think them, because often I go back and forth thinking about any issues of substance. At the same time, I don't want my writing to be manipulated in a clever way that pleases the reader, but doesn't reflect what I truly think. For this reason, I've come to detest the writing class I'm taking this semester. It's a literary journalism course, which essentially often involves the author working in personal views and accounts while relaying a journalistic story. Literary journalism isn't as afraid of peronal bias as other forms of journalism. What the professor expects from me, however, doesn't jive with my particular worldview, both Christian and the other lenses through which I perceive life. I feel like I'm being forced to produce writing that fits his particular mold. No, I haven't openly denied my faith in my writing but at the same time, I'm not comfortable with the amount I've acknowledged God's hand in the various works I've produced. I've also been told to think about producing work for various publications such as Perspective, Clarion and Roadside Assistance. I couldn't count the number of times I've had thoughts of doing so, writing whole pieces in my head, but in the end, being too afraid to put it on paper. If I did that, I would be opening up the nakedest and most honest of my thoughts up for criticism and ridicule. Even if what I write is as objective and removed from the self as much as possible, it still reflects the most honest and thought out of thoughts. I'm looking to get around this fear, and this blog is a first step in doing so. Whether I consistently use this as a means of overcoming this fear remains to be seen. For now, I just wanted a way of sharing my thoughts with a few people, and not, for instance, the entire facebook world. Please, though don't use my fears as an excuse not to constructively criticize, as I'm realizing that my fears have probably robbed me of valuable peer review. Also, please forgive any grammatical or spelling errors. In usual fashion, I haven't proofread any of this.

*props to JL for getting me thinking