I have an affection for made-up words. One of the best examples I’ve read is from a James Thurber story called, “The Black Magic of Barney Haller.” Just to give you a taste, here is a quote.
“Did you know that even when it isn’t brilig I can produce slithy troves? Did you happen to know that the mome rath never lived that could outgrabe me? ”
Your challenge, should you choose to grangrept, is to write a short paragraph or zemp where you include words no one has ever blarbed before. Rezcoriate us. Crundle our peefalls. Set the bar at furksmits. Yamdunk away.
I am pleased to announce that my novel, The Glory Rites, is now available in paperback on Amazon. You can access the site by clicking on the cover and blurb to the right of this posting.
The prequel to The Glory Rites is being formatted for paperback right now. It is called The Old Powers. Coming soon!
Are these fantasy novels? Yes, but…. I’m not much for dragons, magical creatures, and evil wizards. I’m more interested in psychological development, and these books follow the personal growth of several characters. I’ve used plots that pit the existence of otherworldly powers against the spiritual issues of religion and humanism.
Do check out the Amazon site and consider ordering a book today. I’d really like to receive your review on the Amazon site as well. It’s your turn to give me feedback!
Alicia stood at the bus stop, counting the change in her pocket to make sure she had exact. It was either take the bus and skip lunch; or walk to work, be late, but be able to afford a cheap burger at noon. Her run-away-from-college-to San-Francisco adventure was going downhill. The ill-paying job as an elf in the Santa Claus section of the Emporium department store had been forcing certain of life’s unpleasant realities on her. She realized she didn’t know how to cook (and only owned two pans), had no friends to speak of, was scared to drive the Honda 150 cc motorcycle she’d spent her thin savings on (hoping to turn her life into a cool adventure), and didn’t know what to do with herself on the weekends when she could barely afford to eat. Her two room apartment was empty except for one folding chair, a sleeping bag, and a table made out of a cardboard shipping box. How was this all going to turn out?
The one tiny window was glued shut with many gummy layers of paint. It had never been opened as far as Ramon knew. Problem was, it was the only way out of the silo workshop now that the ladders to the loft space had been sabotaged. He was getting hungry. And thirsty. Twelve year old single malt scotch was not going to be good for dehydration.
well, I revised my site, and that’s new. But more importantly, my daffodils are new, my latest trip over a throw rug is new (lovely new knee bruise), the smell in my compost collection can is new, and the appearance of the sandhill cranes is new. What’s new with you?
She peers out from inside the mountain. The mountain is new, created by volcanoes and the hot lava of a newly forming planet, but our Undergod doesn’t care. She and the mountain are one, and if part of her has joined the hot, then cooling lava, silt, and gravel on its way to the ocean, it’s a journey that intrigues her. It’s a kind of travel after all. She is spreading. She is considering becoming the ocean floor when her mountain is finally worn completely away. Wider, looser, a bit more ebbing and flowing as she feels the weight of all that water overhead, and above the water–sky. And something else, someone else, up there in the sky? A companion perhaps? She feels a heat return.
Is this creation or just fantasy? Surely you have your own creation myth. This is why we write, after all.
Just trying to get your attention. This challenge is one more galumphing bonanza. Try it!