A life of humour

Like I mentioned in my previous post, I've decided to participate in National Novel Writing Month (nanowrimo) for November. The thing about nanowrimo is that it demands an alarming alacrity of thoughts, and some hasty typing that gets my fingers in a tizzy. Needless to say, I'm already considerably behind schedule. Per my own calculations, I should have been about 10,000 words done today, in order to complete the requisite 50,000 words by the end of the month. But if truth be told, I'm on an embarrassing 5,700. I feel pressured, and pushed, and facing a tremendous writers block. Stuck at 5,700, what kind of novel is this going to be. Bah humbug.
"What are you writing about?" Delta asked me the other day.
"Oh, just about myself. I figured I'd start with the time that I moved to NewYork, and just see where it takes me."
"You're writing about yourself? So, erm, I hate to ask this but, how's that different from your blog?"
Touche.
I'll tell you how it's (marginally, microscopically) different. My blog is semi fictional. I mean, all the stuff that I said happens does actually happen, but I use some literary license to dramatize the mishaps of Ficali - you know? Just like a director might do when they make a film like "Into the Wild" (except with a lot less fame, no money at all, and considerably less glamour). So there's a bit of dramatic license, for humour's sake.

But with this mini-novel, I was determined to stick to the truth as much as possible. I started documenting my life with an exacting amount of accuracy, and a surprising amount of memory for detail. I started relating incidents as they actually happened.

But you know what? The stories were still funny. Without any exaggeration at all, the stories that encountered in my life just had a penchant for the ludicrous, somewhat like a Chevy Chase movie.

That's the story of my life. Just one funny thing after another, and me at the butt of it all. Rather an element of pathos to it all, but who am I to complain. I mean, I'm getting a blog and a mini-novel out of it, after all.

Literary Panic

Somehow, in conversation with a colleague at work, I talked myself into signing up for National Novel Writing Month. Which means, over the month of November, I have to write a short novel of 50,000 words (~175 pages of type). Which comes down to typing about 2,000 words a day. Arduous, but achievable. I mean, there's people who climb Mt. Everest, for gawd's sake. Surely this was doable.

Of course it sounded to me like a lofty goal - but still, an exciting challenge. Until I suddenly realised that November starts tomorrow. Which means, if we do some nifty calculations and work back from t here, that I now have less than twenty four hours to come up with some semblance of plot, theme and characters.

I wonder if there's a Booker Prize for incoherent literature.

Spelling games

I called Amex Customer Services to inform them of my marital name change.

"Hi there, I just got married and I need to update my name with you please. My new name is McDelta."
"Excuse me? McDelta?"
"As in M for Malta, C for Cap, D for Doodles, E for Egypt, L for Lichtenstein, T for Turkey, A for Apple."
I hate spelling things out like that, I can never think of common words starting with the letters I need. Hence the desperately chosen 'Doodles' and 'Lichtenstein'.

"Thank you, ma'am. Let me repeat it to you. That's M for Mike, C for Canada, D for Donkey, E for Elephant, L for Lemon, T for Tom, and A for Alpha?"

I was suddenly intrigued by this new word game I had found.

I responded, "Yes, that's M for Money, C for Caterpillar, D for Doodles, E for Empathy, L for Lily, T for Temple and A for Annabel. Or Alphabet."

There was a long pause. Then an exasperated sigh. I was hoping she'd start the spelling bee again, but she didn't bite the bait.
"Okay I have it now, thank you ma'am," she said, and ended our conversation.

The scrabble linguistic standard

It put me in rather a huff, when Delta read on the cover of the Scrabble box, that "good players will achieve between 300-400 points in a game."

I'll have you know, Mr. Scrabble guy, it's impossible to get 300-400 points when you're playing against Delta, and he doesn't let words like yeti in (especially when it sits on a triple-word-score square). I mean, yeti, for crying out loud. Everyone knows that even if it's not in the dictionary, it's a real word. Right?

Just like bigfoot and sasquatch (although those are immeasurably harder to assemble in scrabble).

Eeks. 300-400 points to be considered a good player?!

Sign me up in remedial courses for the linguistincally inadequate.