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05 February 2012
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Margaret I. Carr

 

ePress!

is privileged to present:
Word Castles,
a collection of poetry by Tom Spencer.

Learn more about the poet in this month's Spotlight as he responds to our Interviewer's searching questions.

Word Castles is now available in pdf (Adobe's portable document format) from this page.

Direct Order page is here.

Note: Word Castles is at the bottom of the Order Form.

You can download the free Acrobat Reader from Adobe here.

Other digital formats and a print version will be available soon.

A word about Copy Protection

After investigating many different forms of copy protection we decided the best protection was the simplest. We will rely on the Honor System. This saves us time and money and saves the reader time and aggravation. Anyone who prefers 'cracking' a protection system to reading a good book may be a bit disappointed by this but we doubt that our readers feel that way.

We are not selling 'information'. We are selling the product of much work on the part of our authors and additional work by our editors, layout staff and others. That is why we pay royalties.

We hope you enjoy reading Tom's wonderful poetry.

Margaret I. Carr


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Catherine's Kitchen The Writers' Ezine - T-Zero Xpandizine

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Catherine's Kitchen

Catherine Manning

Way Back When

When my father left school, he went to work with the family firm in the city. I think he lasted a year, as he hated it and was not cut out to join the mercantile world that my great grandfather and then my grandfather had created, He was a square peg in a round hole. It became increasingly obvious that he was in the wrong job and as his social life became more, how to put it, "eventful." it was decided to banish him to the north of the island well away from town, to manage one of the many plantations then owned by my great grandfather, much to his delight as that was what he wanted anyhow. So at the age of 20 he went to Lambert's and began his life. It didn't stop him getting into town most nights, as despite the bad roads at that time and the distance, he was a rally club driver and had a V8 Chevrolet called "The Red Devil" so he got by quite well.

One of the first things he did at Lambert's was to demolish the massive old plantation house and build a much smaller one where three of us were born. I was quite shocked when Mummy let this slip out a few years ago after he had died, as we had never been told about that before. They were not married at that time. She said that she had only been in the original house a couple of times and that it was very big. He said that Lambert's was too small a plantation to maintain such a house as it had a lot of wood. He built the one that is there today himself for 800 pounds. I suppose he had permission! It's so solid that it will last forever.

He was a founder member of the Light Airplane Club and was quite an acrobat in the air, so when war began in 1939 he decided to sign up for the R.A.F. There are many stories about his exploits in the air, one of them being that a handkerchief would be placed on the runway, held down by stones and he would land on it. However, my grandfather had other ideas about him going to war. My uncle was already in England in the R.A.F. and Grandfather decreed that Dad would have to stay here and feed Barbados and so he did. But the only way he could be made to stay was having his application turned down, which it was, as my grandfather's cousin was the doctor who examined the applicants. My father was turned down on the basis of his eyesight; makes you wonder about that, if he could land on a hanky? He never wore glasses except for reading in later life! Probably just as well or we might not be here today, but he was not happy. However, he went a long way in the effort to grow food to feed Barbados and did a good job. Lambert's became one of the best plantations in the island.

When I was three, a tragic accident occurred for which my father took responsibility and consequently fell apart, so my grandfather decided we should move to Westmoreland. I don't think my father ever got over it and I remember hearing about it in later years, but he would never talk about it. But that's another story.

Among the older members of the family were two of my grandfather's cousins, Cousin Nell and Cousin Alice or "Ton," as she was called. Nell never married but Cousin Ton married and her husband was killed in the war, so the two sisters lived and travelled together for the rest of their lives. Cousin Nell died at 107 and Cousin Ton at 105, within a short time of each other.

I have two very worn handwritten cookbooks belonging to them. I've been meaning to get something done with them, but it hasn't happened yet. I'm sure the recipes work as these ladies were serious entertainers in society but I haven't tried them myself. Also, the books are falling apart and the handwriting, though good and educated, I sometimes have a problem deciphering. The ink is also fading as they date back to before 1895. The only reason I know that is because I came across a bill dated June 1895.

In account with
GAPPS STORES
(Gapps Limited)
THE BROADWAY, EALING, W (obviously London)

It was for breakfast, sugar, apricots, soap and other sundries. The cost was five shillings and one pence. There was a charge for every lump of sugar!

Here is a recipe for:

OYSTER SOUP

To 2-1/2 pints of good white stock thickened with 1 oz. of butter and 1 oz. of flour, add 1/2 pint of very thick cream. Let it get quite hot before it is added to the stock. Have ready 20 oysters scalded in their own liquor. Season with cayenne, salt and a very little pounded mace and 1-1/2 oz. of sweet almonds blanched and pounded. Put the oysters into a nice hot tureen, strain the liquors into the soup, pour this over the oysters and leave.

After this I suppose you eat it!

I have one here for CURDLE SAUCE, but am having a hard time working it out. It is supposed to curdle, not quite sure why, but apparently you can eat it so or add cream! Will try and work that one out at a later date.

ORANGE CAKE

  • 1-1/2 cups sugar
  • 2 cups flour
  • 1/2 cup water
  • 1 orange
  • 5 eggs
  • 2 tsp. baking powder

Mix the sugar and yolks of eggs, well-beaten and add the cold water. Next add the well-beaten egg whites, grated orange rind and juice of orange, lastly sift in the flour and baking powder. Bake in three tins in a HOT oven.

ORANGE ICING

Beat stiff two whites of eggs, make stiff with icing sugar, add 1/3 cup juice and rind of orange. Have ready and put on cakes as they are taken from the oven.

I'm going to try this one and see what happens. Who else wants to try it? I would be careful of the three tins and the HOT oven, I would make it two tins and the oven at 350F. Don't forget to grease and flour the pans.

I'm going to end here with a recipe for:

AVOCADO SOUP

  • 1 medium avocado
  • 1 cup chicken stock
  • 2 cups milk
  • 1 onion, chopped
  • Sugar
  • Pepper sauce
  • Salt and a touch of lime to taste

Chop avocado and onion in blender. Add all ingredients and blend. Add more milk if too thick and season to taste. Serve chilled with slice of avocado.

Bon Appetit
Cath


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Drabble Corner The Writers' Ezine - T-Zero Xpandizine

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Drabble Corner

Michelle Swisz

Circumstances have stolen MicheleAnn from the column, and for me, it's a pleasure to now be editing Drabbles. My name is Michelle Swisz; another Michelle, just to confuse everyone. I've been working on the fiction panel recently, and am greatly looking forward to Drabbles. They're an opportunity to focus the meaning in thoughts, feelings, and questions into a succinct and particularly memorable form that happens to be fun, but deceptively hard to write. The Drabble Project, has collected and published three books' worth of them, by such authors as Isaac Asimov and Larry Niven. Thanks, Alison, for the link!

Here is April's Drabble, on the theme of War:

Splashed
by Jim Hatfield

The first sign they'd been hit was a thump behind the cockpit. The aircraft lurched as if it had been T-boned at a bad intersection. Acrid smoke swirled through the compartment. His earphones buzzed.

"We just bought it, Jacko. Eject, eject!"

Jack pulled the firing handles and the canopy whipped away like a candy wrapper in the wind. Then his seat seemed to explode, carrying him straight up into the sun.

Finally, his chute popped and he found himself drifting lazily toward the Gulf. His knee throbbed. His heart pounded.

"Jesus, I'm alive," he thought. Then he hit the water.

May's theme is "Exploration," due April 10, and June's is "It Came to Life," due May 10. See the guidelines for submission details. And please send me your comments, questions, suggestions, or ideas, whether they're about upcoming or desired themes, ideas brought up in Drabbles, or anything else related to the column.

A new tradition: When you have a one-line reply to the most recent Drabble (sort of a one-line Drabble in response) send it on in. Maybe we'll call them Dribbles, although I'm not sure about the imagery there. Any suggestions?

Happy writing!

Email me your drabbles and themes at drabble@wvu.org.


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Personal Essay The Writers' Ezine - T-Zero Xpandizine

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Personal Essay

Prosser

Prosser, a former educator who enjoys all things, including nature and the continual unfolding of its mysteries and aesthetics, now dabbles in writing, painting, and photography. Some of his photos are currently traveling in a Northwest Regional Salon, and his paintings have been displayed locally. Having been a member of WVU for over a year, he can most often be found these days working on a screenplay in the Marquee study group.

Impressionism and the Zen of Bluegill Fishing

My buddy and I left home a couple of hours ago on a bluegill fishing expedition. We unloaded the boat, paddled across the lake, and anchored beneath a large maple. The tree's shade creates perfect hiding places and hopefully we will find a convention of bluegill lurking in the darkened waters. Our poles and reels are readied: leaders, bobbers, and hooks attached, and the worm container opened.

Looking overhead, two hawks skillfully ride updrafts. Enthralled by their beauty I'm suddenly daydreaming and soaring with them. I see my buddy below and marvel that he'd rather fish than fly. My lungs fill with fresh air and my outstretched wings carry me atop warm air currents. Tucking my wings, I dive for a lazy bass lolling about on the surface. Then suddenly, like a dropped bag of potatoes, I'm back in the boat, rubbing a sore finger. The hook I'm holding, but not paying much attention to, pricked my finger and flight school is over.

My spirit, temporarily plucked away, awakens my sleepy senses and something other than fishing begins commanding my attention. The hypnotic blip-blap of small waves lapping against the boat soothe me. Velvety green trees blanket the mountain slopes surrounding the lake and reach to meet the deep blue sky. Faded reds from a barn on the far shore blend with the blues and greens reflecting off the surface. Lost in thought I am no longer connected to the original purpose of our trip; but I know Van Gogh and his other impressionist painter buddies would love this natural masterpiece unfolding before me.

On the banks, bunches of bulrushes, cattails, and aquatic grasses provide shelter for turtles, fish, red-winged blackbirds, and clouds of swirling insects. Further along the shore, other monumental maples stretch their broad, flat-shaped leaves toward the blue sky, casting dark shadows on the water, creating more hiding places. Leaves flutter, and a small frog jumps from one lily pad to another. In a pasture behind a clump of cattails a cow bellows and a redwing belts out one of its finest arias.

The swish of the fisherman's cast and the whirs and clicks of his reel cut the air. The tackled worm's splashdown creates a sudden explosion of water and colors. Broken ripples and newly blended colors stream across the surface. He reels in slack and the bobber’s red and white colors add new hues to nature's painting.

My partner, the fisherman, focuses on the dancing bobber as though his sight is sunlight shooting through a magnifying glass. Watching him stare and patiently wait, I notice his silent entry onto the canvas.

The redwing offers up another aria. A soft breeze cools the air. The odors of earthy decay and fresh air mix and the mooing in the distance tell me no impressionist or photographer could fully re-create this scene.

The bobber jerks violently and disappears below the surface creating an implosion of water and colors filling the vacuum created by its vanishing. The fisherman sets the hook and reels in a ferociously belligerent, eight-inch bluegill. The fisherman's joy fills the boat as he lifts the fish into the boat and places it on a stringer.

I watch him re-bait his hook, set his pole, and cast again. Another explosion of colors and ripples occurs and soon the bobber again dances gently on the surface. The fisherman checks the captured prey on the stringer, then sharply refocuses his sight on the distant and floating bobber.

My pole lies quietly beside me, the line is dry and the worms in my cup are secure.

I'm simply too busy to fish.


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Fiction Corner The Writers' Ezine - T-Zero Xpandizine

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Fiction Corner

Alison Hawke

Danger: Novel In Progress

Firstly, I'd like to thank all the people who emailed me after March's column, you were a real encouragement to me. I have great respect for anyone who's completed a book, let alone published the thing! Yes, I'm working on it, I promise... I am! I've decided to stick a prologue in. There doesn't seem to be another way to start. This is what happens when your main character loses her memory in the first chapter.

Donna J Werstler sent this piece of advice which I have followed already in part:

I kept a log of all my characters: their traits, qualities, general description and personalities. I even found magazine "pictures" of each so I could look at them and get to especially "know" my hero and heroine.

If I'd written down who liked which foods, I doubt I would have referred to one person's meal as a salad in one paragraph and a bowl of stew in the next. I think I have some character traits to record. The main characters need to be distinct from each other and that may be hard. They all have the same education, went through university together and work for the same company, albeit in separate departments. There's a little of me in all of them.

Donna would love to hear from other writers. If you send me an email with "For Donna" in the subject line, I'll pass it on to her.

Barbara L. Workman had this encouragement:

I'd like to say that each novel gets easier to write, but I haven't found that to be true. Each one is just as hard as the one before.

This is just the way I work. I'm sure you'll hear from others who'll tell you they have to have an outline or they have to have the plot firmly in mind. Each writer has to use whatever works for him or her.

I have discovered I need an outline, partly because I think it's just too scary to dive into that much work all alone. Some people hate outlines, I think it's a personal taste issue. Mine is an evolving outline that's been through at least three major rewrites and a lot of red pen. I edit my writing a lot better if I have a printed copy of it, a nice mug of tea, a good supply of red pens and some decent music. So much for the "paperless office!"

There's a school of thought that says you shouldn't show an unfinished novel to anyone. I definitely wouldn't put my work in progress on the web for all to see, but an extra pair of eyes is very useful. An extra brain is extremely useful when it comes to generating ideas, especially if it's a brain that thinks around corners instead of straight lines.

I agree with John Dodd about outlines:

Writing a synopsis was odd, because I had only a loose idea of where the book was going (it's tightening up but I have no notion of how to end it or how to tie up the plot threads--yet). I found chatting with my wife and friends sparked ideas...they were all keen to know what I was writing and were good with suggestions on twists and turns that I hadn't thought of. One of these conversations prompted a major plot device which set me off at a run again. However, some authors are superstitious about discussing work in progress with friends, but I am not of that school.

I found that I started writing the plot outline as I went on. In other words, I just sat down and wrote, with some idea of what I was trying to achieve, then tweaked the ideas in the developing plotline. The plot outline is a good ready reference, too, because writing at this length you might forget character names or situations or key scenes which are pivotal.

My husband has been invaluable in forming the plot skeleton by peppering me with more ideas than I could possibly use. I cannot recall all the major edits my outline has been through. A lot of background information is stored there too.

One of my favourite pieces of novel writing advice is about character names. I can't remember which book I read this in unfortunately, it could have been The Weekend Novelist by Robert J. Ray. The advice was simple: make sure all your main characters have names starting with different letters of the alphabet. One book I read had three main characters called Carrie, Kusac and Kaid, it was confusing trying to remember which K sound referred to which person.

So I'm off now to carry on scribbling out my novel. If you have any novel writing advice you'd like to share, please email me.


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Fiction Short Story

Nadene Mattson

Nadene R. Mattson is a native of Bear Lake County, Idaho. She took early retirement after working as editor/publisher of a monthly corporate magazine for several years, and later as a proposal writer for an architectural firm. Nadene recently completed her first novel and has the work making the rounds looking for an agent/publisher. She is presently caring for her mother and lives at Logan, Utah.

Twelve Months of Winter

I push the button that ejects the tape from the car cassette player and stare into the skeleton-like cottonwoods at the 'Y' in the road just past our house. Even though it's warm outside and should be stifling hot sitting here inside, I'm chilled to the bone and shaking violently. The same kind of cold one feels immediately after giving birth. With all my heart, I wish a nurse could come along and wrap me in one of those blankets fresh from the warmer oven and make all this go away, but deep inside I know even a warm blanket will not dispel this kind of cold.

In the house I struggle to make my mind function. Where did I put that ratty imitation fur coat that was my consolation prize when I'd discovered the last affair? The one before the cassette tape in the car. I dig through several closets and finally find it in the storage room downstairs, put it on and go back to sit in the car, with the windows rolled up.

My mind wanders. Anything not to think of the cold. Or that tape. The kids won't be home from school for at least three hours.

Would that be enough time to suffocate in a hot car?

I toy with the notion, then go back to dissecting small question fragments, all starting with "Why?" I feel myself slipping into that dark place that has taken so many years to climb out of, again feeling the panic of being too close to the edge, fingernails losing their grip.

Like a ticker tape, a phrase runs through my mind: "He who fails to learn from his mistakes is destined to live them again," and I wonder who said that. Probably a Hindu or Buddha thing. But they should have said, "She who fails..."

And fails. And fails.

But this is the end of fail and the end of hope. He'd begged me to take him back. This time would be different, he promised, and I had.

That time had been different for me too, because I'd had the wit to say, "This is the last time. There won't be a next time. You cheat again and I'll know before you know I know, and you will have your walking papers," which is why I talked to the P.I. about installing that voice activated recorder on the phone line. Because I knew.

The guy charged a huge amount and wouldn't install it himself. Watergate was in the news. He said wiretapping could get his license yanked, but he gave me the machine with instructions on how to install it.

I'd prayed to God I was wrong, but my instincts had become so finely honed over the past twenty-four plus years that it wasn't hard to spot when he was again "on the make." He was such a slave to habit that little changes in his behavior were instant warnings. And he said dumb things that were a dead giveaway, almost like he wanted to get caught. Maybe he did. Maybe this time he'd found someone he couldn't live without and would rather get caught than have to say the words that would end it all.

I stare again at the cottonwoods. They show flecks of green. A week of warm weather like today and the leaves will unfurl and winter will be past, for the trees. But I will miss the spring. And the summer. And the fall. This will be my twelve months of winter, a terrible time to live through. A worse time for my children.

But I could choose to sit in the too-warm car and never be cold again.

I hadn't known about any of it until we'd been married fourteen years, but he'd been through four women by then. I'd never even changed a tire, and our youngest of six children was not yet two weeks old. The admonition had rung in my ears that a Mormon wife is supposed to make it work. Somehow. So I did. We uprooted the kids and moved to give us a chance for a new start.

And three years ago when he strayed again, I still didn't know how to fix a tire. By that time two children were grown and had eagerly left the nest. But, like most Mormon wives, I had no skills that would earn enough to raise four children. That was back in the days when child support was not well enforced. I knew: I'd checked. But that time he'd promised it wouldn't happen again.

But it did. The proof there on that tape sticking out of the player. I still can't change a tire, and the kids will be home in barely more than two hours now.

I look at the clutch of cottonwoods again, my gaze drawn back to the 'Y' that flanks the trees on either side, and my mind plays with parallels. The cottonwood trees stand huge and tall in the middle of the road. To be safe, the driver must choose the road to the left or the right; to go straight puts one in peril of his life. Much like sitting in this car until the kids come home.

Realizing I am no longer cold pulls me back to present; in fact I'm sweating profusely. I bring the tape with me into the house and hide it in the bottom of the cedar chest. A quick shower clears my head. I pull on a sweatshirt, faded jeans, a pair of old sneakers, and an old denim jacket and get back in the car. Slowly, I angle onto the road, follow the right arm of that 'Y' into town, and stop at Garr's auto repair where we get the work done on our automobiles.

"Nice to see you," he says. "What can I do for you today?"

"Well, I need to learn to change a tire. I'll pay you for your time. And while you're at it, maybe you could teach me how to change the oil and check the battery too."

Mr. Garr studies me for what feels like a full minute, then goes to get his tools.


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Healthy Horizons

Laurie Lupold

This month marks the anniversary of the Columbine tragedy. None of us can forget that terrifying day that changed the voice of the nation forever. It was an act that reached from the shadows like a thief in the night and suddenly raged like the rapid toll of destruction brought on by wars of past years. But it wasn't a war and there was no army. It was the act of two young individuals acting out their vengeance on unsuspecting members of their school.

Though it's understandable for the nation to carry its feelings of anger and resentment toward the two, a part of us must feel a sense of sadness that they became so out of control in their lives that they would act out with such desperation. I can relate to their tragic end. I have walked that road myself before. Suicide is a screaming out of pain and a desire to end it. Yet taking another's life is displaying rage. What would cause such young minds to do this?

This question resulted in a lot of finger-pointing and caused more bitterness throughout. Many were blamed. The parents, gun control, schools, and government to name a few. I am not a huge fan of weapons but I also feel it is not fair to take rights away from people who obtain and manage firearms properly.

As far as the accountability of the parents, that's a hard one to judge and I really can't speak without knowing them directly. What I can say is this: we do have some amount of accountability over our children but I do think there is a point where you draw the line and the children have to be accountable for themselves. At the same time we have a responsibility to have substantial involvement in our children's lives. Let them know it's safe for them to come and talk to us or there are other resources available for them. Observe their behavior and pay attention to any changes. Show interest in their friends and activities. Praise them. Keep them involved in faith and the belief in God. Most importantly, be a good model.

Since the tragedy at Columbine occurred other such events have taken place at various schools throughout the nation, none as severe but all tragic. It's happening far too often and we need to find a solution before it becomes an epidemic. It's not just the responsibility of one individual, one system or one government. It is the responsibility of all of us.

Columbine

It awoke, John Denver sang of the place he loved, peaceful, loving, innocent is what his words described. A normal day when factories ran, the grocers registered, the stations pumped, secretaries typed and children learned. Unread was the frustration of what existed within, unheard was the anger of children who kept obvious pain.

Swallowed into the darkness, the pits of hell, of destruction; scheming, plotting efforts of their fear, their obvious rejection. Normal patterns faded, anguish was heard, desperate affliction. Cries of lives destroyed, too young, too innocent to die. Screaming swallows of panic hushed by threats of being heard, bodies lying lifeless, enforcement surrounding, too late. Solemn faces waited for the answer to their fateful question, some cried with relief and others with their hearts destroyed.

Their loss brought tears to a nation who could not understand. Sadness prevailed as we laid our heroes to rest in peace, sang out our hearts with sorrow to bring strength to Columbine. Let this now lead us to the mysteries of a truth, one we must face.

We pray that an answer can be found, that peace can be restored. Let not our pain in Columbine go without a sense of redemption. Search for the answers, acknowledge the problem, offer solutions. Open your heart to that angry child. Why is his anger unnoticed? How was he able to build to such sadistic measures? Why this day? We must not quit 'til we know the reasons, we must forever try. Punish the unthinkable but also the one who dismissed it. Reach out, offer hope, give your heart, to sweet Columbine.

Revision from 1999


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Nonfiction Nature Writing

Dee Walmsley

Earthquakes, Hurricanes, Fires And Floods

Are you prepared for an environmental emergency? Got your kit all packed and stashed in a safe place? Are you in the habit of changing the water in your kit's bottles and replacing those dead batteries? Well, good for you, but what arrangements have you made for your pets? Do you have a fresh stock of food, dishes and water for your animals in those emergency supplies? What about a can opener? Don’t watch your traumatized animal on the six o'clock news desperately seeking food and shelter. Act now. Be prepared.

You need to know:

  • if pets will be allowed to accompany you into emergency shelters
  • if veterinarian clinics will become human facilities
  • if your municipality or city has an emergency animal relocation plan or shelter
  • if your animal is on medication, is it stated somewhere on the animal? Can the medication be replaced?

Some preventative measures you can take:

  • make sure your pet has identification
  • find an alternative source of shelter, i.e. out-of-town relative
  • keep a stockpile of food available
  • start a community resource to address these problems
  • when disaster strikes, be prepared to release any chained or locked-up animals
  • make up a disaster plan and rehearse it with family and friends

Don’t leave the welfare of your pets or livestock to government authorities. Take matters into your own hands and do it now! Be a responsible pet owner. Remember: you are their only lifeline.


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Poetics

Tom Spencer

The English Sonnet

Although there are a few types of sonnets, I have chosen to discuss the structure of the English sonnet. I will reveal its structure as I know and understand it. If I were to choose the perfect form of poetic expression it would be the English sonnet.

The English sonnet has been around since the sixteenth century. Many poets have written sonnets through the years. My favorite is a gentleman by the name of Sir Phillip Sidney. He wrote a few sonnets, quite a few. They are worth reading if you have the wherewithal to struggle through the Elizabethan English and its lexicon of the sixteenth century. I imagine they have been translated to a more modern English; however I feel a revised version of anyone’s work loses the full intent of the original author.

The English sonnet is fourteen lines of verse containing ten syllables per verse. This gives the poet (composer) 180 syllables to tell a story. The most common arrangement of the verse is in groups of four, forming three stanzas (known as quatrains) leaving two verse to form a couplet.

One of the endearing qualities of the sonnet (derived from Italian, meaning "a song") is its end rhyme. The rhyme scheme is varied in the many sonnets I have read. Usually the first and third verse rhyme, and the second and fourth verse rhyme. There is a repeat of the rhyme scheme in the next quatrain and the last quatrain. The couplet, in the English sonnet, always has the last word of each verse rhyme. Variation of the rhyme scheme could be: first-second rhyme, third-fourth rhyme, each quatrain ending with the couplet rhyme. I have seen the odd-number verse of the first twelve verses rhyme and the even-number verse rhyme, with the couplet having a different rhyme. The rhyme scheme is important; however it can vary in its structure. I derive this from the many sonnets I have read. If anyone knows a valid, verifiable rule that applies to the rhyme scheme of the English sonnet, please let me know the source.

The English sonnet is usually written in pentameter. For clarification’s sake, five metric feet. That means ten syllables per verse or ten beats, as in a metronome’s swing, composing a grand total of 180 beats to the complete sonnet. The meter does not give the complete rhythm to the sonnet. It has partial responsibility only. The meter provides the structure for the rhythm. Though some may disagree with me, my observation has lead me to call the meter the external structure of the rhythm, therefore leaving an internal structure to define.

Now to discuss the iamb. Most people link the two as if they were a single device of the sonnet. The iambic foot is separate from the pentameter, although five iambic feet compose one line of pentameter. The iambic foot is a means of describing the internal rhythm of the verse; the iamb is two beats (two syllables) or one foot (one iamb). Therefore in one verse of ten syllables you have five iambic feet. The Iambic foot is composed as two beats: a heel toe sound, the heel being a soft (syllable) sound and the toe being a hard (syllable) sound. This could also be described as a tic-tock sound, the tic being soft and the tock being a harsh or hard sound. There are other feet that can be used, giving a different internal rhythm. A metrical foot called the spondee could be placed in the pentameter line. The spondee has two hard sounds to its syllable foot, however for simplicity’s sake, I will not go into the different metric feet in this article.

Now that we know the mechanical structure of the English sonnet let us investigate the literary structure.

Most surface students will tell you an English sonnet has a love theme. Whether it has been the evolutionary result of poetic license or not, I have found this idea of a sonnet being a love theme not always to be true.

I believe that a sonnet tells a story. My thoughts on the English sonnet are: the first quatrain introduces the protagonist or subject, the second quatrain establishes a setting or stage, the third quatrain presents a result of protagonist and scene working together. The couplet makes an observation of something that was learned from the exposition or an observation expressed in a conceit (exaggerated metaphor).

Due to the limited words and syllables that can be used, quite often one part of the three-part exposition takes more verses to reveal its message. I have seen all verses run together without stanza breaks, thus allowing verse content manipulating for balancing internal themes. You may manipulate the syntax, the rhyme scheme, the stanza construction and the theme of an English Sonnet; however it must be fourteen-verse, end rhyme, and in pentameter.

As civilization has evolved, so has the sonnet. Many forms of the sonnet can be found today; however there is a beauty to the rigid form of the English Sonnet when written well. The discipline developed to write the English Sonnet is a sound base for learning the art of composing most all forms of poetry.

Lost Love

Most often in the fading light of day
When becalmed the lake, like glass it be
Your image deep within my soul will stay
A ghostly moon creates a dream of thee
My mind will reel in distant reveries
Of life and youth of love, indecision
Aspirations then, now but memories
Of foolish youth and grandiose visions
While in this depth of idle thought, I stand
Clear the winter’s air, sharp the bite of frost
Alone upon this fallow barren land
I think of you, reviewing what is lost
Love of you, so very deep entrenched
From life, from me, tragic death, has wrenched.

I welcome your comments.
Tom Spencer


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Poetics Presents The Writers' Ezine - T-Zero Xpandizine

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Poetics Presents

Heather Schaefer

Heather Schaefer grew up in central New Jersey and continues to live in the suburban Garden State. Her interest in writing began as early as first grade when she was fascinated by an assigned book report about astronaut, John Glenn. 25 years later, she is looking forward to more learning, and is enjoying her new home, with boyfriend John (no, not John Glenn...), and furry cat Sonny.

Writers' Village members look forward to reading more of Heather's work.

March comes in like...

Even if it snows seventy feet two weeks from now
I don’t care.
You can’t tell me that I didn’t live
Sunday:
Clearing dead leaves away
from crocus shoots,
daffodil friends,
and hyacinth color markers.
Almost too warm
in brand new garden gloves,
and a flannel good enough to ruin.
Introducing my eyes to the sun,
and letting the birds keep time for me...

Copyright © 2001 Heather Schaefer


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Recognitions The Writers' Ezine - T-Zero Xpandizine

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Recognitions

Judy Hunt

T-zero Xpandizine is proud to announce these WVU members who have gained recognition in their writing achievements.

Betty Kimbrough's first published story, "Whippoorwills' Song," is in the April issue of Futures. Betty is a Lifetime WVU member and has been involved in the Time Trading Nortonians Rule and Consistents study groups.

Brandon Kamins won third prize in the recent GroundZero literary project competition sponsored by Copywrite, Ink. Read his winning short story, "The News," now in the Spring 2001 edition of GroundZero. Brandon joined WVU in February and is active in the Synergy study group.

Maryann Hazen-Stearns' first full-length collection of poetry, "Under The Limbo Stick", has been published by Straw House Press. Read more about Maryann and her works at her website. Maryann has taken several WVU poetry classes and also developed a "mini-course" within one of the courses to assist other poets with tips on publishing their poetry. She has been a WVU member since August 2000.

Betty Kreier-Lubinski's "The Scam Artist" is published in the April issue of Futures. Betty, a Lifetime WVU member, is active in the Consistents study group.

Maryellen Brady-Kropp's short story, "Romancing the Trees," was published in the March issue of EThis!. This began as a writing exercise in WVU and is gradually expanding into a full-length story. Maryellen is a Lifetime WVU member who participates in the Romantics study group.

Wynelda-Ann Shelton created a short story during a writing exercise in her WVU study group, Time Trading Nortonians Rule. Each sentence of the story starts with consecutive letters of the alphabet. The finished product is in the creative exercises section of the April issue of Verge Magazine. Wynelda-Ann has been a WVU member since February 2000.

Cynthia Pucci, a WVU member since October 2000, is published in the current issue of Career-Intelligence.com. Read her article entitled, "Tips for New Supervisors". Cynthia is involved in the Insanity Clause study group.

Charity Tahmaseb won second place in the Future's second annual 'Fire To Fly' Karen Besecker Mystery Writer Memorial Awards with her novel, "False Impressions." Futures won't award prizes if the entries don't meet their standards of excellence. That says a lot about the rigors Charity's novel went through to win second place. Charity hangs her hat in the Consistents study group and is a Lifetime WVU member. Read more about Charity at her web site.

Kudos to Betty Kimbrough, Brandon Kamins, Maryann Hazen-Stearns, Betty Kreier-Lubinski, Maryellen Brady-Kropp, Wynelda-Ann Shelton, Cynthia Pucci and Charity Tahmaseb for their inspiring writing accomplishments. Best wishes for many more successes in the weeks, months and years ahead!


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Spotlight The Writers' Ezine - T-Zero Xpandizine

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Spotlight

Priscilla Fagan

Spotlight this month is with Tom Spencer, poet and all-around remarkable individual. I had the pleasure of meeting Tom and his wife three years ago at WVU's first ever get-together in Norfolk, Virginia. Whatever we talked about, Tom would always say, "there's a story there someplace." I knew this would be a superb interview and when Tom is involved, there is always a story to tell. I hope you enjoy visiting with Tom as much as I have.

Priscilla

T-Zero: We know you're a native of Indiana, discovered your love for poetry at a young age, served in the military, owned your own sewing machine retail store and received a Bachelor of Science Degree in 1995 from Purdue. When did you find time to continue with your poetry?

TS: I have always found time to both write poetry and read poetry. For many years there was more of an emphasis on the reading of poetry than the writing. The reading was to access the world of emotions and foibles with the authors. The writing was a form of therapy to cope with a sometimes-unkind world.

T-Zero: You've been a member of WVU for a number of years. Can you tell us how the Internet and WVU have helped you with your writing or has it? Have you found other avenues the Internet has opened up for you?

TS: The Internet has helped me in my writing by allowing me access to the Writers' Village. The Writers' Village is a print-friendly venue, a basic down-to-business, let's-learn type of forum exposing the aspiring writer to peer editing and unlimited growth potential. Most sites on the Internet are so involved with the chrome and sparkle of graphics and legerdemain visuals and fonts that they overshadow the value they set out to promote. I belong to only two sites. Both sites are learning-orientated as opposed to show-off sites that I have tried to access and understand without success.

T-Zero: You facilitate a couple of courses at WVU also, which shows your love and knowledge of literature and the Masters. How did this come about?

TS: In the late sixties and early seventies I lost the ability to read standard print. This was a devastating experience to someone that loved to read. I eventually found out about the talking book program in place via the grace of the Library of Congress. Reading was my way out of a deep multi-year depression, a depression over not being able to read the books I loved to read. With the new-found freedom of the Talking Book I was able to read once again. By the late eighties the local library didn’t even request a book list. They sent the next book on the shelf. I was overcompensating for the years of reading I missed by reading sixteen to eighteen books a month on whatever subject matter the library sent.

T-Zero: I know you write many different types of poetry and use your experiences in many of the themes. Do you prefer any particular form of poetry to another?

TS: If you are referring to reading experience that I use in writing poetry then you are correct in my use of my experience. I write poetry and prose by "placement" as I have dubbed it. Placement is where I put myself (from within my mind) in the position of the protagonist. That is, if I were to desire to write a poem about a mountain lion, I try to become the mountain lion and picture the world from the eyes and the inner being of the lion.

I prefer the sonnet structure as my foundation for all poetry. The sonnet structure is rigid, yet an outline to work with. Most all of my poetry starts off in sonnet structure. The first quatrain will introduce the protagonist. The second quatrain will introduce the scene and the antagonist. The third quatrain will expose the results of the interaction of the first two quatrains. The couplet will introduce the thought or "gem of knowledge" gained from the interaction of all the quatrains. If the piece does not conform to sonnet standards, I then expand on it transforming it into another form of structured poetry. You might say that it is a formula like the successful novel. You can use the same outline and derive many stories by changes in characters and place.

T-Zero: Favorite poets. Do you have one and if so how has that poet influenced you?

TS: If I choose a favored poet it would have to depend on the time of the season, the time of the year, and the time on the clock. I see something in every poet’s work that I enjoy. I would say my favorite poet is the world I live in. There is poetry everywhere.

T-Zero: If you could give advice to poets or writers just starting out, what would it be?

TS: Read Sappho to Dickinson, Homer to Ogden Nash, Kafka to Marquez. When you are finished, go back and read them again. Relate their world to your world. Write about what you observe, not what you personally feel.

T-Zero: Word Castles is your first book of poetry. What was the most difficult part in its production and do you have a favorite piece in the book?

TS: The most difficult part was to overcome my fear of punctuation mistakes. I wore out a Strunk and White, pressing it flat to read on the reading machine. My heart still jumps when I receive a note from my editor. I expect her to say, "Sorry there are too many punctuation errors; the publisher will not accept your book." I hope the reader reads the poetry and not the punctuation. The writing was easy; the editing was quite difficult for me.

I can’t really say I have a favored work in Word Castles. Each poem is a part of my being a part of the world I live in. The most touching to me is "Lost Love," a sonnet form poem about someone near to me that lost his wife. I wrote it from what I thought would be his point of view. The most fun one to write was "The Judge." It was a poem that seemed to write itself at a garden club meeting I was privileged to attend with a judge as their speaker.

T-Zero: Do you have any plans to do another book of poetry?

TS: I feel that my first work is the surface of my work in poetry. I write poetry everyday, I read poetry everyday. I would like to do a collection of sonnets; although I have been told that they would not sell to the general public, I think it would be an achievement well worth the effort. I am currently working on lyric poetry with a modicum of success. Yes I will publish my work as long as I have a publisher that wants to publish it.

T-Zero: As always I like to finish on the light side with the help of James Lipton. So here are your nine questions. Thanks so much for taking the time to talk with us.

T-Zero: What is your favorite word?
TS:
"Surd," is my favorite word for the moment. It is silent; in poetry silence says the most.

T-Zero: What is your least favorite word?
TS:
Rule, it is a challenge to defy and yet it has use.

T-Zero: What turns you on?
TS:
A passionate reader.

T-Zero: What turns you off?
TS:
Self pity.

T-Zero: What sound or noise do you love?
TS:
The distant sound of a train on a cold snowless winter night.

T-Zero: What sound or noise do you hate?
TS:
The ripping of metal as two automobiles try to occupy the same space.

T-Zero: What profession would you be in if not this?
TS:
A professor of literature so I could justify reading at all times.

T-Zero: What profession would you hate to be in?
TS:
Politician.

T-Zero: If heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive?
TS:
"I tried to tell you, but you wouldn’t listen."


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Submissions Guidelines The Writers' Ezine - T-Zero Xpandizine

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Submissions Guidelines (Updated)

Until further notice, only plain text submissions in the body of the email will be considered.
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If considered for publication, you will be asked to return an email agreement including your name and address.

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Poetry: Due to the large number of recent poetry submissions, a temporary hold on further poetry submissions is in place until early 2008.

Please do not email us to ask what we pay for in other categories. When we can add to our list, we will include it in these guidelines.

What We Publish

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Fiction and Craft features published in T-Zero: The Writer's Ezine include brief third person biographical notes on the writers. For all submissions, please compose your own bio and include it to save our editors and yourself time later if/when your piece is accepted for publication. We suggest sharing a little about your background, occupation, geographical location and what inspired your story.

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Fiction should be sent to fiction@thewritersezine.com.

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Poetry: Due to the large number of recent poetry submissions, a temporary hold on further poetry submissions is in place until early 2008.

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Good luck!


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© Copyright 1998 - 2007, Writopia Inc. All rights reserved