March and April were very busy months for me, and I'm afraid I fell off the writing-every-day wagon. I'm trying to get back on track, though. I did another exercise from Mr. Fry last night. This time the assignment was to write a parody of your favourite poet. I don't believe in favourites, but had just finished reading a book of poetry by a very well known poet, whose style I thought would be fun to play with.
See if you recognize the poet. I'll give away a signed copy of Dominion and of In the Dark to the first person to post the right answer.
Dance, dance, dance,
Like a princess with twinkly toes!
And O for a yard of pink ribbon
To tie up my pigtails in bows.
Half a step, half a step,
Half a step and twirl round
And curtsy so pretty and graceful,
As you sparkle, O musical sound!
Dance, dance, dance,
By the moon or the splendorous day,
While the people all watch me and whisper,
'Tis a fairy princess at play.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Pagan Pathways, March 7-8
I am going to be telling stories and talking about writing next Sunday morning at the Pagan Pathways event. This program runs from 9 to 5 each day at the Ukrainian Centre at 11018 - 97 Street. There is a full line up of workshops and presentations, geared toward Pagans of diverse paths, and centring on the theme 'Care of the Soul.' The cost is $40 for both days.
I will be joined by Sylvia Hertling and Barb Galler-Smith. Sylvia is a wonderful storyteller, whom I have performed with several times in the past. She is working on what sounds like a very interesting story to tell, and will also talk a bit about journalling.
Barb is a writer of fantasy and science fiction. She invited me to join the 'Cult of Pain' writer's group after my novel was published, and has been very helpful to me with her critiques and encouragement. She has a novel coming out this year from Edge, titled Druids. The book will be the first of a trilogy set in the time of the Roman occupation of what is now France and Spain.
I will be joined by Sylvia Hertling and Barb Galler-Smith. Sylvia is a wonderful storyteller, whom I have performed with several times in the past. She is working on what sounds like a very interesting story to tell, and will also talk a bit about journalling.
Barb is a writer of fantasy and science fiction. She invited me to join the 'Cult of Pain' writer's group after my novel was published, and has been very helpful to me with her critiques and encouragement. She has a novel coming out this year from Edge, titled Druids. The book will be the first of a trilogy set in the time of the Roman occupation of what is now France and Spain.
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Sestina (Blame Stephen Fry)
I made a new year's resolution this year to write every day. I've mostly kept it. I can't say I've got a huge amount of work done on my main projects as a result, though. I'm writing more frequently, but not necessarily for very long each day. One thing I have been speeding ahead on, though, is working my way through The Ode Less Travelled by Stephen Fry. This is a great little book for anyone who wants to learn or review the formal side of poetry writing. Well, maybe not anyone. Parts of the book are not suitable for children, thanks to Fry's naughty sense of humour, and the exercises are definitely at an adult level. But for all you mature would-be poets, it manages to make the elements of poetry transparently clear while being entertaining at the same time. It is like a tour through the world of poetry by a knowledgeable and witty guide, except that you aren't allowed to just stand and admire things. There are exercises.
I have found the exercises really valuable, and not too onerous. I have generally taken the view that exercises are not for writing brilliant verse, but for building the skills of writing verse. As a result, I have had fun with the exercises, but have mostly produced insufferable doggerel. This morning, however, I had a surprising experience.
The assignment was to write a sestina. I had read up to the exercise last night, and given a little thought to topics and words to go at the ends of my lines. This morning I thought about it some more as I lay in bed. I came up with a first stanza, which I thought was a little too cute to really use. I couldn't imagine actually getting five more stanzas plus an envoi out of it. But since I hadn't come up with anything better, I started thinking a bit about where I could go with it, and came up with a couple ideas. By the time I got up, I had decided I might as well try it. I wrote down my cutesy first stanza, and fitted the ideas I had so far into my second one. Then, well, it just sort of got going. I was really surprised by the things that came out as I went on. I wrote the whole thing in about an hour.
So, here it is. I suppose if I was a professional poet I would want to do some revision before I considered this poem finished, but I think as it is it makes an interesting example of how ideas can grow organically. Consider it a specimen.
This is the house that someone built
Not on the rock, but on the sand,
Not out of brick, but out of straw.
This is the heart that always fed
Not upon trust, but upon hope,
Not upon truth, but upon dreams.
Some years don't offer much but dreams.
Some years tear down all that is built,
And leave behind only the hope
Of better days. Wait. While the sand
Runs from the glass, the goats are fed
Not upon hay, but upon straw.
At times she said, "It's the last straw.
I'll do no more." But night brought dreams,
And somehow she kept the children fed -
All but one lived. For him she built
A little cross and piled white sand
Over the grave. She tried to hope
He was in heaven. But it was hope
And not belief. She grasped the straw
And lost it thinking of the sand
Above his head. He lived in dreams,
And out of dreams his mother built
A world inside. Her spirit fed
Compulsively on lies. She fed
The growing children. They found hope
In newer lands. Far off they built
Houses of sod with floors of straw
And filled the fields with all their dreams,
Numberless as the grains of sand.
This is the mouth that tastes the sand
Of death even when it is fed
On sweets. These are the lonely dreams
Of an old woman. Still her hope
Is for the child with hair like straw
To come again. What has she built?
It shifts like sand. Her weary hope
Grows thin. She's fed up with the straw
Figures of dreams, torn down, rebuilt.
I have found the exercises really valuable, and not too onerous. I have generally taken the view that exercises are not for writing brilliant verse, but for building the skills of writing verse. As a result, I have had fun with the exercises, but have mostly produced insufferable doggerel. This morning, however, I had a surprising experience.
The assignment was to write a sestina. I had read up to the exercise last night, and given a little thought to topics and words to go at the ends of my lines. This morning I thought about it some more as I lay in bed. I came up with a first stanza, which I thought was a little too cute to really use. I couldn't imagine actually getting five more stanzas plus an envoi out of it. But since I hadn't come up with anything better, I started thinking a bit about where I could go with it, and came up with a couple ideas. By the time I got up, I had decided I might as well try it. I wrote down my cutesy first stanza, and fitted the ideas I had so far into my second one. Then, well, it just sort of got going. I was really surprised by the things that came out as I went on. I wrote the whole thing in about an hour.
So, here it is. I suppose if I was a professional poet I would want to do some revision before I considered this poem finished, but I think as it is it makes an interesting example of how ideas can grow organically. Consider it a specimen.
This is the house that someone built
Not on the rock, but on the sand,
Not out of brick, but out of straw.
This is the heart that always fed
Not upon trust, but upon hope,
Not upon truth, but upon dreams.
Some years don't offer much but dreams.
Some years tear down all that is built,
And leave behind only the hope
Of better days. Wait. While the sand
Runs from the glass, the goats are fed
Not upon hay, but upon straw.
At times she said, "It's the last straw.
I'll do no more." But night brought dreams,
And somehow she kept the children fed -
All but one lived. For him she built
A little cross and piled white sand
Over the grave. She tried to hope
He was in heaven. But it was hope
And not belief. She grasped the straw
And lost it thinking of the sand
Above his head. He lived in dreams,
And out of dreams his mother built
A world inside. Her spirit fed
Compulsively on lies. She fed
The growing children. They found hope
In newer lands. Far off they built
Houses of sod with floors of straw
And filled the fields with all their dreams,
Numberless as the grains of sand.
This is the mouth that tastes the sand
Of death even when it is fed
On sweets. These are the lonely dreams
Of an old woman. Still her hope
Is for the child with hair like straw
To come again. What has she built?
It shifts like sand. Her weary hope
Grows thin. She's fed up with the straw
Figures of dreams, torn down, rebuilt.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
A Canticle for Liebowitz vs. The Chrysalids
At this year's Pure Speculation convention, I attended a panel in which paticipants argued the relative merits of Dune, A Canticle for Liebowitz, and Spin. We were asked to vote for one of the books at the end. At first, the question posed was which book was most worth reading, but few people were prepared to make a judgement. It was then suggested that we vote for which book we most wanted to read after listening to the discussion. I had recently re-read Dune, which put it out of the running, and I decided to vote for Canticle. The idea of post-apocalyptic monks definitely had me intrigued.
I have read Canticle now, and I was not disappointed, though I don't think I would quite put it ahead of Dune on the list of must-read SF books. It happens that I read it right after reading The Chrysalids, which was an interesting contrast. The question of whether, if our civilization destroys itself, we can continue to see human life as worthwhile is at the heart of both books. Chrysalids takes a secular view in which Darwinian competition for survival is the ultimate morality, while Canticle presents the world from the point of view of fervently and uncompromisingly religious monks.
The villains of Chrysalids are bigoted fundamentalists, while those of Canticle are worldly men, bent on gratifying their own pride. It is quite easy to see in the telepathic utopia of Chrysalids exactly the sort of impatience with our own imperfections with which Canticle accuses secular culture. Likewise, the monks of the Order of Liebowitz can be compared to the religious community in Chrysalids: like them, they seek to preserve the past rather than improve on it, and submit unquestioningly to authority and tradition.
Both books ultimately declare humanity, at least in its current form, incapable of overcoming its destructive tendencies. However, they then proceed to opposite conclusions about the value of human life. In Chrysalids, the genocide of all humanity save the evolved few is seen as an act of mercy. Canticle takes the other extreme, arguing against euthanasia even in the case of someone who has nothing to look forward to but a painful death.
My own views fall somewhere between the two extremes, but if I was asked to vote between these two books, Canticle would win hands down. I found the characters and ideas in it human and engaging, though also challenging, whereas those in Chrysalids left me feeling sickened. I'm sure other readers will differ, though. If you have read this far, please post your opinions on the matter, and perhaps cast your own vote as to which of the two is the more worth reading. I think this could make an interesting discussion.
I have read Canticle now, and I was not disappointed, though I don't think I would quite put it ahead of Dune on the list of must-read SF books. It happens that I read it right after reading The Chrysalids, which was an interesting contrast. The question of whether, if our civilization destroys itself, we can continue to see human life as worthwhile is at the heart of both books. Chrysalids takes a secular view in which Darwinian competition for survival is the ultimate morality, while Canticle presents the world from the point of view of fervently and uncompromisingly religious monks.
The villains of Chrysalids are bigoted fundamentalists, while those of Canticle are worldly men, bent on gratifying their own pride. It is quite easy to see in the telepathic utopia of Chrysalids exactly the sort of impatience with our own imperfections with which Canticle accuses secular culture. Likewise, the monks of the Order of Liebowitz can be compared to the religious community in Chrysalids: like them, they seek to preserve the past rather than improve on it, and submit unquestioningly to authority and tradition.
Both books ultimately declare humanity, at least in its current form, incapable of overcoming its destructive tendencies. However, they then proceed to opposite conclusions about the value of human life. In Chrysalids, the genocide of all humanity save the evolved few is seen as an act of mercy. Canticle takes the other extreme, arguing against euthanasia even in the case of someone who has nothing to look forward to but a painful death.
My own views fall somewhere between the two extremes, but if I was asked to vote between these two books, Canticle would win hands down. I found the characters and ideas in it human and engaging, though also challenging, whereas those in Chrysalids left me feeling sickened. I'm sure other readers will differ, though. If you have read this far, please post your opinions on the matter, and perhaps cast your own vote as to which of the two is the more worth reading. I think this could make an interesting discussion.
Friday, December 5, 2008
Where to buy Dominion and other links
http://www.dragonmoonpress.com/ has been offline for a while now, so just in case anyone comes by this blog wondering where they can get a copy of my book (one can hope) or wanting to find out more about it, I thought I would post a few links.
Firstly, you can order the book through EDGE publishing: http://www.edgewebsite.com/books/dominion/do-catalog.html
It is available in various ebook formats:
http://ebooks.ebookmall.com/author/jyt-kennedy-ebooks.htm
http://www.fictionwise.com/eBooks/JYTKennedyeBooks.htm
http://www.amazon.com/Dominion/dp/B000OI0DQY
You can find out more about DragonMoon Press on their blog:
http://www.dragonmoonpress.blogspot.com/
And finally, here is a review of Dominion by Donna McMahon:
http://www.sfsite.com/11a/do211.htm
While gathering these links, I discovered that there is another J.Y.T. Kennedy who has written a book called 'Happy Aging with Costa-Rican Women.' So much for my theory that using all those initials would prevent me being confused with the gazillion other Kennedys out there. . .
Firstly, you can order the book through EDGE publishing: http://www.edgewebsite.com/books/dominion/do-catalog.html
It is available in various ebook formats:
http://ebooks.ebookmall.com/author/jyt-kennedy-ebooks.htm
http://www.fictionwise.com/eBooks/JYTKennedyeBooks.htm
http://www.amazon.com/Dominion/dp/B000OI0DQY
You can find out more about DragonMoon Press on their blog:
http://www.dragonmoonpress.blogspot.com/
And finally, here is a review of Dominion by Donna McMahon:
http://www.sfsite.com/11a/do211.htm
While gathering these links, I discovered that there is another J.Y.T. Kennedy who has written a book called 'Happy Aging with Costa-Rican Women.' So much for my theory that using all those initials would prevent me being confused with the gazillion other Kennedys out there. . .
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Words in the Park: November 1st
I am going to be participating in a Literary Fair at the Strathcona County Library on November 1st. The Library is on the east side of the Sherwood Park Mall. The event is free, and runs from 1 to 4pm. I will have a table there, and be available to chat with anyone who would like to come by. I will have copies of Dominion and In the Dark for sale, and will also be helping to promote our local storytelling chapter. There will be other authors from a variety of genres present, all with some connection to the County. I have not seen a list of who will attend, but I understand that Joan Galat, the author of Dot to Dot in the Sky and other books of sky and star-lore, will be there. You can check out some information about her here:
http://www.telusplanet.net/public/dot2dot/free_new.htm
And here is the library website:
http://www.sclibrary.ab.ca/
http://www.telusplanet.net/public/dot2dot/free_new.htm
And here is the library website:
http://www.sclibrary.ab.ca/
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Campfire Ghost Stories
I'm doing some last minute preparation for this year's Spooktacular, and just wanted to post about a great book which I found at the library. It is Campfire Ghost Stories by Jo-Anne Christensen. This is a really good collection of scary stories to tell, including versions of many old classics as well as some I haven't encountered before. (After ten years of storytelling, that is getting rarer than you might think!) Not all, or even most, of these are strictly speaking ghost stories, but the book is part of Lone Pine's Ghost Stories series, which I assume is the reason for the title. The book includes some tips on how to tell scary stories for newer tellers.
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