Naming
A Treasure Trove
I've found a treasure trove accidentally. It started simply enough when I wanted to find a book of Chinese Paintings and then intended to stay in the 700 room and write. That's the room in the Concord library that stores the 700 books, several tables and computers. It's warm and quiet there --womb like.
Today all the tables were occupied in the 700 room. I found two books and headed to the second floor where fiction and non-fiction to 699 is stored. Again--”serious” students or cold residents occupied all the tables.
I went upstairs to the 800 and 900 stacks. A man, several books and the ubiquitous computer occupied one table and the other table was empty. I was both hungry and thirsty and intended to stay long enough to do some quick writing.
Another man has just entered. He's wearing a beret and carrying a briefcase--probably encasing a computer. He eyed my table because the only available spot was a much smaller table with a less comfortable chair and facing a blank wall.
The treasure trove is to my left. I am seated next to shelves containing books about writing. From here I note Francine Prose's book about reading as a writer, a favorite.
Cocking my head sideways allows me to read some of the catchy titles like The Sinless Writing or Will My Name Be Shouted Out?
Erroneous title--when I approached the shelf the Sinless Writing disappeared. Possibly the letters close up morphed into something else.
I did find Carol Bly's book on writing non-fiction. I'm noting some of her techniques: instead of saying," Ask yourself questions about your writing she's quite specific".
"What would be a specific example of the generic noun I just put down?" I call that naming.
Naming is powerful and it can be ruthless.
I've found a treasure trove accidentally. It started simply enough when I wanted to find a book of Chinese Paintings and then intended to stay in the 700 room and write. That's the room in the Concord library that stores the 700 books, several tables and computers. It's warm and quiet there --womb like.
Today all the tables were occupied in the 700 room. I found two books and headed to the second floor where fiction and non-fiction to 699 is stored. Again--”serious” students or cold residents occupied all the tables.
I went upstairs to the 800 and 900 stacks. A man, several books and the ubiquitous computer occupied one table and the other table was empty. I was both hungry and thirsty and intended to stay long enough to do some quick writing.
Another man has just entered. He's wearing a beret and carrying a briefcase--probably encasing a computer. He eyed my table because the only available spot was a much smaller table with a less comfortable chair and facing a blank wall.
The treasure trove is to my left. I am seated next to shelves containing books about writing. From here I note Francine Prose's book about reading as a writer, a favorite.
Cocking my head sideways allows me to read some of the catchy titles like The Sinless Writing or Will My Name Be Shouted Out?
Erroneous title--when I approached the shelf the Sinless Writing disappeared. Possibly the letters close up morphed into something else.
I did find Carol Bly's book on writing non-fiction. I'm noting some of her techniques: instead of saying," Ask yourself questions about your writing she's quite specific".
"What would be a specific example of the generic noun I just put down?" I call that naming.
Naming is powerful and it can be ruthless.
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