Tag Archives: Tolkien

Of shoes and ships and sealing-wax

This is going to be a long post. This “artist’s statement” was supposed to be a lot shorter, but you know how that goes. I even tried to abridge it and then found too many gaps in the argument that … Continue reading

Posted in Fiction, Historical fiction, History, Non-fiction, Poetry, Writing | Tagged , , , | 2 Comments

In which I talk about art

Because I’m still not over that bad writing workshop. (Although a lot of this is prompted more by a continuing classmate than that professor.) I have been thinking for a long while, off and on, about deliberate ugliness in modern … Continue reading

Posted in Writing | Tagged , , , , | 2 Comments

Liberty and other useful fictions

Er, so much for consistency in blogging. I have been writing a lot lately (Camp NaNo stats are up to 16,000 words, and I don’t count blog posts). The biggest priority has been the paper on Hume and whether he … Continue reading

Posted in Of the North, work in progress, Writing | Tagged , | 2 Comments

Eucatastrophe

Last night Olivia and I went to Trauermusik: In Commemoration of Dr Julieta Alvarado-Rieppel, Dr Rieppel’s solo piano (and harpsichord!) recital. The place was packed. Mostly it was older people, and almost all the professors I know were there: McLean, Kolnick, … Continue reading

Posted in Ordinary life, Poetry | Tagged , , | 1 Comment

“Yes,” said Pooh. “One of those. In case it isn’t.”

Rabbit gave him a hard look. “I don’t think you’re helping,” he said. My first story for the advanced fiction workshop was due this week, but the story about the plague was nowhere near being done (it’s been growing in … Continue reading

Posted in Fiction, Rose-Tinted Arrows, Short story, Writing | Tagged , , , | 11 Comments

Just-beginning thoughts from a conversation

                   I have been wondering, because of a mix of modern light reading with Edward Gibbon from two hundred years ago: I wonder if the modern taste for patterns of varying grays, … Continue reading

Posted in Books, Writing | Tagged | 14 Comments

I am determined to prove a Grinch.

Ah, Christmas. The most cliched time of the year. Also the only time people sing to a tree and nobody thinks it’s weird. (Not, of course, that anyone does it sincerely enough to be actually worshipping the tree, because they’d … Continue reading

Posted in Fiction, History | Tagged , , | 9 Comments