Monday, 29 April 2002
Since Clarion I've gotten email from several people wanting to ask questions about Clarion. I'm always pleased to help when it's something I know about. (I don't know much about the selection process, so I'm of little help for people who just want to know about getting in.)
People writing to ask questions always praise my journal, which is nice. A note I got today praised a bit of description in my journal entry from the first day after Clarion was over. I remember writing that bit--it was try at using "telling" detail in a description, the way Kelly Link taught us. A trifle show-offy, but I felt justified. I was feeling very pleased with myself. I'd gotten enough sleep, which always helps. Mainly, though, I'd just finished something that was difficult but worthwhile. Nothing'll make you feel smug and self-satisfied more than that. At least, nothing makes me feel smug and self-satisfied more than that.
It occurs to me, though, that I ought to put more descriptions in my journal entries. A daily journal is a great place to capture bits of telling detail that can be used in stories later. And, knowing that I'm going to describe something makes me pay more attention.
In yesterday's entry, for example, I mention Rapunzel squeezing into the back of Jackie's loom, just as soon as we got it onto the table. A cute bit, but really just the one detail (the snug fit). I ought to write bits like that in a way that exercises both my observation skills and my writing skills. I'll work on it.
Jackie and I watched two DVDs over the weekend. We watched Asoka, an Indian movie about the (first part) of the life of the emperor who unified most of India. The DVD box played up how he had conquered India, then converted to Budhism and spread that faith throughout India. The movie, though, ends when he's finished the conquering. There's just a short text crawl at the end about the Budhism stuff. Other than that it was good. The other movie was Haiku Tunnel which is an odd, hilarious story about an office temp worker who can't quite bring himself to finish his most urgent task. It's delightful.