I watch the ripples change their size
But never leave the stream
Of warm impermanence
And so the days float through my eyes
But still the days seem the same
And these children that you spit on
As they try to change their worlds
Are immune to your consultations
They're quite aware of what they're goin' through

Wednesday, October 4, 2006

Two of Us Writing Postcards

I should also make mention here about the book. It's progressing. Not much typing, but lots of organization and brainstorming. Here's where good, smart friends come into play in writing. If you read my post about editing below, I'm also applying that epiphany to this book. Every part of this book needs to be top notch.

Sound-boarding ideas off of smart friends is an excellent way to pound those pieces into shape. To mix metaphors, on Tobias' blog I was commented that rewriting is like forge work, lots of heat, tongs, pliers, hammers and anvils. Sound-boarding with friends is a hammer. In a few IMs with my friends the other day I took a good idea and pounded and tempered the heck out of it until it was a much better idea.

That idea (you may be asking yourself)? A little piece of detail. The Barry Mygnot Funeral Home. If you don't get it, say it out loud and the "g" is silent (or swallowed).

As an FYI, one friend said there is actually an Amigone Funeral Home in Buffalo. Go figure. But that's what you get with smart friends. They also walked me back from the Berry, Meignot & Lon Prairee Funeral Homes. "Too forced," was the comment.

The actual over all theme/joke of the book was done this way as well. Started as a lark, bounced it off some friends. Ideas flowed, pound, changed, tempered, added to, pound, and eventually became what it is. No I'm not posting any more of that idea than I have. Sorry.

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