Much Writing and Tolkien Philology

Back at university for term 2. Only a Philosophy and Religious Studies paper this time round. No more English untill the research paper over summer term.

I've been getting up early for the last week and am happy to say that I've written 6 000 words in the last 7 days. Whoohoo!

I've a small pet side-research-thingy.

For those who have read Lord of The Rings, I'm researching the possible origins of Tolkien's word 'Riddermark'. If you happen to be a philologist, hey-ho! Though Tolkien was born in Bloemfontein in South Africa (my birthplace, woot for the Rainbow Nation!), I'm not sure if he himself spoke Afrikaans, although I'm pretty sure he would have heard the language since the Free State Province (then the Orange Free State), certainly at the time, would have been an Afrikaans stronghold.

The word "ridder" in Afrikaans means "knight", or more generally, a horse rider. This would fit very well with 'Riddermark', as it is the area of Middle Earth populated by the Rohirrim, famed for their love of horses. The word "ridder" can more generally be applied to Germanic languages, such as Dutch and German. But I have recently become interested in the potential influence that the South African/African landscape could have had on Tolkien's mythologies.

The Highlights and Pitfalls of Anthology Editing

I recently blogged on Ripping Ozzie Reads about the highs and lows of putting together a short story anthology, and the first part is now up on their blog HERE.

You can also download a free copy of my short story "Outside The Box" (short listed this year for the Sir Julius Vogel Award) on ROR's Visiting Author's page HERE

Dreams. Dreams? Dreams!

Yes, I'm one of those annoying people who believe we dream what we dream for specific reasons. Why? I have no idea. An interesting article at Scientific American addresses some of the more popular theories. I'm a great admirer of Jung, and most of my own theories tend to relate to his archetypes. I'd be very keen to hear some of your own ideas about dreaming, no matter how far-out they may seem...In fact, the weirder, the more likely that they're true.

RIP Michael Jackson

What I've noticed most online today is the split between comments of shock and grief against those of derision and making jokes about someone who has just died. The former consists mostly of the generation that grew up with Jackson's music as part of the cultural landscape, while the latter consists primarily of a younger generation. It's a complicated issue, and I won't get into it because there is no way you can discuss a complicated issue like this online. But really, isn't it better to feel compassion than to judge?

I will say that I'm quite flabbergasted at the lack of compassion, regardless of personal opinion. In hindsight, I shouldn't be surprised. Besides, It's easy to make shitty and hurtful anonymous comments online.

That Michael Jackson was a creative genius who forever changed the landscape of popular music remains undisputed. For those who spent their formative years listening to his music, the earthquake that was Thriller at the time of its release, this is a loss that cuts deep. The associations of childhood are powerful. They shape us in ways we are not even aware of and become the mythical landscapes of the personal. I understand where the shock comes from.

Michael Joseph Jackson (August 29, 1958 – June 25, 2009)

Yes Please!

I don't know about you but I certainly can do with a few cocaine drops before and after visiting the dentist.

<<--- Or even better

So Fey: Queer Fairy Fiction Re-Released!

So Fey: Queer Fairy Fiction (originally published by Haworth Positronic Press) has just been re-released by Lethe Press.

The anthology features my short story "How Laura Left a Rotten Apple and Came Not to Regret the Cold of the Yukon", as well as contributions by Holly Black, Delia Sherman, Christopher Barzak, Melissa Scott, Laurie J. Marks and Eugie Foster.

Buy it from:

Lethe Press

Barnes and Noble

Giovanni's Room

Kindle Edition

Bilbo, Cram and Me

I recently started taking new medication and on the first day it made me feel quite spacey, thus I made the informed decision to not operate heavy machinery and instead retired to bed with The Hobbit, which I just finished re-reading.

Half an hour later, I'm reading about Bilbo and the dwarves starving of hunger (again), and they retire by the side of the mountain to eat something. All of a sudden the meds take a turn for the unexpected and I find myself starving, too. So I run to the cupboard, which is filled with all kinds of sugary and salty goodness, but my eyes see only one thing: a half eaten box of old cracked pepper wheat crackers.

It's all I want.

I grab a few and get back in bed, pick up my book and start reading while I nibble on an old-ish cracker. I'm telling you: I felt like I was there, on the mountain, like I could feel the wind blowing off the Lonely Mountain and feel the presence of Smaug, and that my cracker really was the same thing as the cram Bilbo and Co. were crunching on. I felt, for a moment, like was in Middle Earth. That, kids, is what the real world can never do for you.