The second installment in my Pretentious Writing Tips series, in which I will probably repeat what I have forgotten I already said, suggest things which work for me but would capsize the work of another individual, and go on at length about the benefits of my sagacious advice. Rather than arraying summaries of my previous works ahead of the tips, I'll simply cut to the chase.
•Remember the reader has to use their imagination as well as understand yours†. Overdescription is a dam to imagination. One character can be wearing a long gown with a shawl and that is adequate description not to merit mention of the apparel's color. Let one's independent reader imagine as they will.
•"Crossed" can be conceived as amateurish. Quite tempting, I grant you, but difficult to imagine and after all, many people don't cut a directly diagonal path through a room do they?
•The regular writer must have seen this so many times it's a cliché, but it is advisable not to think about everything you write -- particularly when you're trying to write out a scene or character or occurrence as not to forget it. Drafts, young Padawan!
•Don't think about drafts, in my professional opinion.
•Adverbs are not the root of all evil, again I opine. "-One said excitedly", or "with an excited tinge to one's voice"? Excitedly is economic, quick, and in my humble opinion superior to the latter.
•For the love of heaven don't say "slightly." "Almost", yes. "Partially", indeed. "Halfway between X and X", sure. But "slightly" is. . . .at the extremity of inadvisable. "Slightly annoyed" "Slightly confused"--Piffle. Platitudes.
•Use your words. "Incidentally" outranks "by the way", even, it has its own meaning as well. . . A side effect; a occurrence of lesser magnitude.
•(Punctuation is also a necessary part of cohesive writing.)
Well, as far as my personal writing goes I am stuck somewhere in the middle of a seventy-page-long notebook, scripting away various scenes from various stories amidst Spotify and Pinterest.
I have begun a certain story set in the world of Breckinedge, a quaint locale in which every town and metropolis is named after an adjective or state--Reverie. Solitude. Tranquil. There are many curious and mysterious constituents which, naturally, have no relation or any manner with which to presently fit them together. Ah well, the lot of a writer.
My earliest conviction that I would be a writer was when I was six, and I decided that my ideas were too amazing not to share with the world. . . I just love myself.
Furthermore, if we writers are lucky, forty years in the future people will still be reading our works; and even if one is reading it a year after the publication date I will count myself an honored lady.
Sentimentally,
Anacostia Mirabow-Marignac.
†In all likelihood, the mind will always have difficulty being understood -- allow me to amend -- That ought to be written "Recognize what you're trying to say."
Sunday, August 31, 2014
Sunday, July 20, 2014
A diatribe, review, and philosophical digression: which is to say a review of Ruin & Rising (Previously "A Review... for which it is yet to be decided but in any case it will doubtlessly equate the most exemplary standards".)
Brief prelude. The review beneath was written directly after finishing the book which it addresses; at ten o' clock at night; so please pardon me for any corrigenda, discrepancies, or convolution. On second thought, the last one is par for the course so nevermind.
How could one dislike that ending, as many do? It was a fairy-tale ending, and they were fairy-tale-like books. It tells the story and concludes it: that of the Darkling, plus the boy and girl from Keramzin (needless to mention, the too-clever fox). They settle in an orphanage... one where they grew up. They have unhappiness but joy as well... Leigh Bardugo's writing, I will interject, is lovely in the prelude and conclusion. Quite eximious.
Half -- actually all but one, I believe, of my notes are quotations from the book with diatribes accusing Miss Bardugo of being favorable toward the monstrous villain known as the Darkling. Frankly, he was a villain--a monster--a demon, worse than those which he created. I refuse to see sympathy. Hm. I probably feel any sympathy now that the character has gone and joined the choir!
"'Aleksander,' I whispered. A boy's name, given up. Almost forgotten."
Piffle. For those who have not read it, that refers to the Darkling... the villain. In any case, he gave it up, he almost forgot it. For a moment of poignancy, however, Alina remembered it. He didn't redeem himself or repent either--Good gosh, I'm glad Leigh didn't try to write him doing that, recall the aforementioned irredemability--and neither did Alina forget what he did. Leigh Bardugo handles it excellently, in spite of my diatribes against her characterization in this final book.
Maybe it is a tribute to all the tragedy.
In one way, it reminds me of Les Misérables... Only for Harshaw dying rather spontaneously and without ado: a titch like Courfeyrac. (A "Friend of the ABC", meaning a rebel in the July Revolution of 1830. Also, Marius' friend.)
A few closing notes, before I shut the laptop lid! Alina laughs at a joke by Mal (Mal-her sweetheart, general object of whatever soap-opera happens to be occurring... responsible also for the fairy-tale ending. Aw.) near the end. The first time it appears she truly laughs! I find that, again, very poignant.
Keramzin is the nexus of drama in the Grisha Trilogy, it seems... As well as the emotional catalyst for many of the characters.
Unfortunately it was a conclusion which renders the prior books rather immediately-un-re-readable, in spite of the ending. My thoughts on the ending are rather apparent, it appears to me! Essentially: it was poignant, well-done, arguable, fairy-tale-ish--Perfectly brill.
On second thought, this entire review waxes philosophical. One may blame the ten-o'-clock hour which I wrote it.
Thanks for reading,
Anacostia Mirabow-Marignac.
How could one dislike that ending, as many do? It was a fairy-tale ending, and they were fairy-tale-like books. It tells the story and concludes it: that of the Darkling, plus the boy and girl from Keramzin (needless to mention, the too-clever fox). They settle in an orphanage... one where they grew up. They have unhappiness but joy as well... Leigh Bardugo's writing, I will interject, is lovely in the prelude and conclusion. Quite eximious.
Half -- actually all but one, I believe, of my notes are quotations from the book with diatribes accusing Miss Bardugo of being favorable toward the monstrous villain known as the Darkling. Frankly, he was a villain--a monster--a demon, worse than those which he created. I refuse to see sympathy. Hm. I probably feel any sympathy now that the character has gone and joined the choir!
"'Aleksander,' I whispered. A boy's name, given up. Almost forgotten."
Piffle. For those who have not read it, that refers to the Darkling... the villain. In any case, he gave it up, he almost forgot it. For a moment of poignancy, however, Alina remembered it. He didn't redeem himself or repent either--Good gosh, I'm glad Leigh didn't try to write him doing that, recall the aforementioned irredemability--and neither did Alina forget what he did. Leigh Bardugo handles it excellently, in spite of my diatribes against her characterization in this final book.
Maybe it is a tribute to all the tragedy.
In one way, it reminds me of Les Misérables... Only for Harshaw dying rather spontaneously and without ado: a titch like Courfeyrac. (A "Friend of the ABC", meaning a rebel in the July Revolution of 1830. Also, Marius' friend.)
A few closing notes, before I shut the laptop lid! Alina laughs at a joke by Mal (Mal-her sweetheart, general object of whatever soap-opera happens to be occurring... responsible also for the fairy-tale ending. Aw.) near the end. The first time it appears she truly laughs! I find that, again, very poignant.
Keramzin is the nexus of drama in the Grisha Trilogy, it seems... As well as the emotional catalyst for many of the characters.
Unfortunately it was a conclusion which renders the prior books rather immediately-un-re-readable, in spite of the ending. My thoughts on the ending are rather apparent, it appears to me! Essentially: it was poignant, well-done, arguable, fairy-tale-ish--Perfectly brill.
On second thought, this entire review waxes philosophical. One may blame the ten-o'-clock hour which I wrote it.
Thanks for reading,
Anacostia Mirabow-Marignac.
Monday, June 23, 2014
Depths of ire! Uncontrollable debating! Troublesome Pettifogging! This Pestilential Scourge, Media, gains its own article.
Journalism and media are two very different things. You think? When it comes between an instance like celebrity culture and journalists on the Tibetan-Chinese border it is undoubted. The line can be bothersomely blurred... This writer thinks perchance the journalists discover the information, and the media belches it out.
The Reader may note that was a fairly extraordinary sentence, and definitely exhibits the tone of the forthcoming piece. In other words, this'll be a fairly vituperative article. Bear with me, my figurative blogger's pen is rusty from disuse. Enjoy.
Shakespeare is theater. Previously lowbrow, crude, and informal theater to be sure, but now it has morphed into an art form: which at least is better than Ms. Jennifer Aniston, and the full cadre of celebrities. Media, while it endeavors to imitate such, is not an art.
Take for example the recent happenings in Eurasia. It has been transgr essing for upwards of a month-and-two-weeks, with every small happenstance magnified and declaimed throughout. A lowly and uninformed personage I may be, but however nefarious President Putin is or is not (come on, he at least is a level II megalomaniac) a crisis need not crucially be averted when a news article on the aforementioned is side-by-side with one on Taylor Swift's attire. I entirely agree that it is somewhat discordant, yet honestly, I see little importance in superficial publicizing.
...
Quite honestly, originality is sorely lacking. Maybe discuss the situation of the fight against malaria in third-world countries? Poor pay in Chinese factories? Political suppression in Myanmar?
Just...frigging...shut up...about...Taylor Swift's clothes.
Please.
I come to the meat of the matter, and to my opinionated approximation of things media sorely exaggerates in its pertinent stages, one article deriving from another, expounding on falliance and thriving on drama; a crisis following another in quick and short-lived succession.
Not to say journalism in and of itself is a vice. In fact it's a virtue. Now if only the popular distribution of disclosures were less aggrandized... At least we have right to report on most, I admit.
But perhaps we exaggerate an increment too much. I'll silence on the news commentary, thanks.
Appreciation for reading my digression on media,
-Anacostia.
The Reader may note that was a fairly extraordinary sentence, and definitely exhibits the tone of the forthcoming piece. In other words, this'll be a fairly vituperative article. Bear with me, my figurative blogger's pen is rusty from disuse. Enjoy.
Shakespeare is theater. Previously lowbrow, crude, and informal theater to be sure, but now it has morphed into an art form: which at least is better than Ms. Jennifer Aniston, and the full cadre of celebrities. Media, while it endeavors to imitate such, is not an art.
Take for example the recent happenings in Eurasia. It has been transgr essing for upwards of a month-and-two-weeks, with every small happenstance magnified and declaimed throughout. A lowly and uninformed personage I may be, but however nefarious President Putin is or is not (come on, he at least is a level II megalomaniac) a crisis need not crucially be averted when a news article on the aforementioned is side-by-side with one on Taylor Swift's attire. I entirely agree that it is somewhat discordant, yet honestly, I see little importance in superficial publicizing.
...
Quite honestly, originality is sorely lacking. Maybe discuss the situation of the fight against malaria in third-world countries? Poor pay in Chinese factories? Political suppression in Myanmar?
Just...frigging...shut up...about...Taylor Swift's clothes.
Please.
I come to the meat of the matter, and to my opinionated approximation of things media sorely exaggerates in its pertinent stages, one article deriving from another, expounding on falliance and thriving on drama; a crisis following another in quick and short-lived succession.
Not to say journalism in and of itself is a vice. In fact it's a virtue. Now if only the popular distribution of disclosures were less aggrandized... At least we have right to report on most, I admit.
But perhaps we exaggerate an increment too much. I'll silence on the news commentary, thanks.
Appreciation for reading my digression on media,
-Anacostia.
Desisting from consistent opinionation, I offer you a review: SHADOWFELL by Juliet Marillier.
To postpone the aforewritten article in this "blog" was no easy task, but in order to illuminate my thoughts on the exemplary work, of whose name carries both delineation of a sunless area and protuberances of earth particularly found in mid-England, Missouri, central China, Mongolia, and elsewise...Oh, come on, codswallop! I'll drop the turgidity, if only to respect my feelings on this book yesterday.
Feelings on book while reading: Asdfghjkl, this book is amazeballs to the sky, but oh my gersh Neryn, you are so naïve!
Feelings on book while a little more than half-way through: Aii! *kindly picture your potential mental image of me, quite honored to have a potential mental image incidentally, holding the book an arm's-length away with a stricken expression*
Feelings on book in the eponymous Shadowfell: *curled up with eyes moving like lightning*.
Feelings on book... At the denouément (Or whatever counts for it in this book): *hugs book to chest*.
Juliet Marillier is an author who wrote many books, among them which I have read Wildwood Dancing, and its premier companion Cybele's Secret. Thence I have gleaned her writing style to be heavy on character development, possibly more emotionally raw than other authors (many of whom I might name but I did say: "Rants of Opinionation" not "Calumny and vituperation"*), great at scenic detail, and fantastical situations abounding.
Three guesses.
1. All appear.
2. All appear with striking brilliance.
3. All appear with brilliance that yesterday demonstrated my ability to fangirl at length, and become overly wrapped up in a work of fiction†.
Ahem. All of the above. Rather then embark on a lengthy panegyric, why don't I explain what makes this book so utterly admirable?
Fifteen years before the book is set, a tyrant named Keldec takes power and bans all magic: both expunging particular talent in arts and crafts for fear of it being "canny" (for that is magic's name in this), and regularly destroying villages and settlements presumably to put the fear of the king in the citizens.N.B. A girl born in the year of King Keldec's coup, and running from the wrath of his "Enforcers" is a girl named Neryn (surname unspoken-of). Fleeing a village shortly before it is burned (See, she has all the bad luck. Her grandmother's mind was destroyed by Keldec's "mind-menders", her brother was killed in the destruction of their village, her mother died when she was four, and her father dies in the village's immolation.) with the help of an individual called Flint (Don't blame me, I didn't name those characters.) Naturally, she does not trust aforementioned individual and sets out solo to find Shadowfell, the legendary abode of those resistant to the king's rule.
If you're any connoisseur of the Y/A genre it should be a bit predictable as to the events of the book. If you're not, you aren't missing much, but the fun of guessing.
To be frank, I originally thought very little of this series. In the wake of our family watching Peter Jackson's The Lord of the Rings cinematic adaptations I thought this filled with terrible plagiarisms, and set it down after reading... five pages. Since then I have repeatedly critiqued it (with, mind you, little idea of its actual quality) but when I sighted it at the library, with the sequel I had to check it out again.
And, I loved it. Due to a variety of rare factors in Young Adult fiction known as good writing, fine characterization (and character-development, furthermore. This doesn't just go into flawed characters... flawed characters complete with backstory to demonstrate both their flaws and their merits still without weighing down the storyline, current actions demonstrating said flaws, and merits, as well as plenty of conflict just so those poor characters don't get a break. Maybe in the sequel☺?As a nice contrast I suspect these parenthetical statements are indubitably weighing down the review.)
Ah yes: Fine characterization, scenes to variously chill, hearten, or thrill the reader without burdening them with overly turgid phrasing, a - granted it is a cliché - rather, hm, trite storyline, and even at the end of it you want more to the story. Lucky Raven Flight is the present book of honor on my shelf, mm?
Sincerely,
Anacostia Mirabow-Marignac.
*As many of them I probably unfairly dislike. Probably. Moreover, calumny is a fantastic word (meaning unfair or unjust criticism), which is potentially the root of my use.
†Hitherto unseen since my reading of Emily Brontë's Wuthering Heights. The review is far too embarrassing to post on this blog, but I shall disclose my reading of it involved shrieking about the annoying characters, then bawling five minutes later. Uncontrollably. With great emotion.
♪If you're wondering about aforesaid event, you might search in the vicinity of the synopsis. I know. It's dreadfully helpful.
N.B. Of course, he could not have considered making people hate the magic rather than him. To cite Machiavelli, a monarch should be loved in peacetime, and feared in strife, but never, never to the point of hatred... Unlike Keldec. Oh, very much unlike Keldec.
Feelings on book while reading: Asdfghjkl, this book is amazeballs to the sky, but oh my gersh Neryn, you are so naïve!
Feelings on book while a little more than half-way through: Aii! *kindly picture your potential mental image of me, quite honored to have a potential mental image incidentally, holding the book an arm's-length away with a stricken expression*
Feelings on book in the eponymous Shadowfell: *curled up with eyes moving like lightning*.
Feelings on book... At the denouément (Or whatever counts for it in this book): *hugs book to chest*.
Juliet Marillier is an author who wrote many books, among them which I have read Wildwood Dancing, and its premier companion Cybele's Secret. Thence I have gleaned her writing style to be heavy on character development, possibly more emotionally raw than other authors (many of whom I might name but I did say: "Rants of Opinionation" not "Calumny and vituperation"*), great at scenic detail, and fantastical situations abounding.
Three guesses.
1. All appear.
2. All appear with striking brilliance.
3. All appear with brilliance that yesterday demonstrated my ability to fangirl at length, and become overly wrapped up in a work of fiction†.
Ahem. All of the above. Rather then embark on a lengthy panegyric, why don't I explain what makes this book so utterly admirable?
Fifteen years before the book is set, a tyrant named Keldec takes power and bans all magic: both expunging particular talent in arts and crafts for fear of it being "canny" (for that is magic's name in this), and regularly destroying villages and settlements presumably to put the fear of the king in the citizens.N.B. A girl born in the year of King Keldec's coup, and running from the wrath of his "Enforcers" is a girl named Neryn (surname unspoken-of). Fleeing a village shortly before it is burned (See, she has all the bad luck. Her grandmother's mind was destroyed by Keldec's "mind-menders", her brother was killed in the destruction of their village, her mother died when she was four, and her father dies in the village's immolation.) with the help of an individual called Flint (Don't blame me, I didn't name those characters.) Naturally, she does not trust aforementioned individual and sets out solo to find Shadowfell, the legendary abode of those resistant to the king's rule.
If you're any connoisseur of the Y/A genre it should be a bit predictable as to the events of the book. If you're not, you aren't missing much, but the fun of guessing.
To be frank, I originally thought very little of this series. In the wake of our family watching Peter Jackson's The Lord of the Rings cinematic adaptations I thought this filled with terrible plagiarisms, and set it down after reading... five pages. Since then I have repeatedly critiqued it (with, mind you, little idea of its actual quality) but when I sighted it at the library, with the sequel I had to check it out again.
And, I loved it. Due to a variety of rare factors in Young Adult fiction known as good writing, fine characterization (and character-development, furthermore. This doesn't just go into flawed characters... flawed characters complete with backstory to demonstrate both their flaws and their merits still without weighing down the storyline, current actions demonstrating said flaws, and merits, as well as plenty of conflict just so those poor characters don't get a break. Maybe in the sequel☺?As a nice contrast I suspect these parenthetical statements are indubitably weighing down the review.)
Ah yes: Fine characterization, scenes to variously chill, hearten, or thrill the reader without burdening them with overly turgid phrasing, a - granted it is a cliché - rather, hm, trite storyline, and even at the end of it you want more to the story. Lucky Raven Flight is the present book of honor on my shelf, mm?
Then again, I had my prejudices against the characters, particularly Neryn. Concurred that she was a careful, defensive, weary, individual. Nevertheless, her trust of Flint grew rather too quickly. *nods*. Very quickly. And of course as anyone who has read to the middle of the novel understands, that trust is shattered like..... like.....a thousand tiny similes dashed upon a mirror, creating both a heck of a mess, a terrible comparison, and the cleaner wondering how a literary device can break a mirror♪.
Really, if they're all as terrible as that one I cannot admit to surprise.
Let's face it: It's an astounding book and you had better go out to your nearest bookstore to buy it. Or, rather not. In fact it is entirely your own choice to read it-let alone like it! Although I would recommend Cybele's Secret, and Wildwood Dancing, her two other Y/As. In very fact, my thanks for reading this review.
Anacostia Mirabow-Marignac.
*As many of them I probably unfairly dislike. Probably. Moreover, calumny is a fantastic word (meaning unfair or unjust criticism), which is potentially the root of my use.
†Hitherto unseen since my reading of Emily Brontë's Wuthering Heights. The review is far too embarrassing to post on this blog, but I shall disclose my reading of it involved shrieking about the annoying characters, then bawling five minutes later. Uncontrollably. With great emotion.
♪If you're wondering about aforesaid event, you might search in the vicinity of the synopsis. I know. It's dreadfully helpful.
N.B. Of course, he could not have considered making people hate the magic rather than him. To cite Machiavelli, a monarch should be loved in peacetime, and feared in strife, but never, never to the point of hatred... Unlike Keldec. Oh, very much unlike Keldec.
Several witticisms, one antique scribbler, an eternally superannuated vocabulary, and the complete works, of Anacostia Mirabow-Marignac's writing advice.
Doubtlessly my trademark lyricism and unending insight must cast it into question whether, indeed, the author of this so-called "blog" happens to be an author. I am. Being magnanimous as all-get-out, you may expect me to share sagacious pearls of wisdom, and perhaps a little less hyperbole than has hitherto been exhibited. How little you know me, Dear Reader, if you expect the latter to occur.
Fortunately, my munificence has no bounds. Or rather, I might counter the stemming tide of tips which I strongly disagree with, rather than simply whinging ineffectually.
(This is what is termed: "Stream of consciousness" or in other words endless blather. The egomania is merely a side-effect of typing quite rapidly.)
Before I embark on my as-promised tips for writing, I've decided to list a sample of my writing projects as follows. Some have been swirling in the stormy depths of my head for some time (think seven years), some are nascent arrivals to my portfolio of stories.
•The Queen of Tyreusa. The eldest of my projects, it dates from seven years ago when, admittedly, I imagined scenes from it while trying to go to sleep. I neglected to think up any motivation, character building, description, or successive plots... In this installment the Queen of Tyreusa, Corinna, is the sovereign of the nation Tyreusa, having been in that capacity for eight years, and much has been placed on her adolescent shoulders. Including, but not limited to, raiders in the north, declarations of war from neighboring states, and nefarious advisers. When a plan from one state goes awry, and peace talks are called before it is too late, she recognizes one in the cadre of politicians sent. Who happens to be the king of that country, Hytermaire. Also, her former, vanished friend.
•Wutherwell story. Set in, fine, I confess, what used to be my concept of A Tale of Two Cities (a parallel world with carriage overpasses, and flying somethings. No stonings! One city could be located in the parallel world, the other could be on Earth. Perfectly logical. Needless to say, I dissuaded myself of that notion) this stars a girl named Rhaedlwyn Dartmoor: nineteen years old, cloistered and introverted in a cathedral town called...yes...yes...Wutherwell! Thereafter, her best friend deserts from the air force (named the Air Legions) and with a fair dose of emotional altercation, she ends up in the Air Legions herself. Sequel is set on the Orient Express, several months afterward. Originally a National Novel Writing Month (i.e. NaNoWriMo) story.
•Robin Hood re-telling. A few scattered portions and an unclear plot are all there is of this story characterized by elements perhaps borrowed from "Robin of Sherwood" and cringe-inducingly similar to the BBC Robin Hood of 2010. Sans all magic and magical elements, mind. Note for the latter, that was entirely incidental, as my knowledge of that originates in pop culture references from the Internet and BBC previews.
•Cyberpunk. Inspired when I was perusing a tome of theoretical physics (I believe it was Physics of the Impossible, by Michio Kaku if you must know) and noted they explained if light was refracted via solar panels consistently over the Martian atmosphere, it would warm, melt the polar caps, and thus make it habitable in a while. Well, this is set after that while, in the dusty plains of Mars in a town called New Locktown. Trust me, all I'm missing is a plot for little miss Leigh Aubrey.
Synopsis, The Queen of Tyreusa, and names; everything relating to stories named is copyright of Anacostia Mirabow-Marignac. For reproduction or copy rights, contact her on Google+. I might not bite your head off.
Ah, yes. Notes, tips, and advice:
►Do nothing to your primary or auxiliary characters without the audience liking them first. And you, too, you're the book's primary audience.
►Do not enact what the audience wants, or what would perfect the character's lives, do instead what adds drama. Drama--DRAMA‼
►Basically that means write for yourself, not for an audience. Do add what makes drama, though.
►Don't be afraid of saccharine writing. If it is too emesis-inductive then you can change it, but often the best drama results from grandness, elegance, or sweetness.
►Stress not about characters. Write them, and characterization will come at last.
►Use touching moments with care.
►If writing a romantic or sentimental scene or work, make sure the characters involved are not defined solely by the romance. They shouldn't be handsome, kind, gallant, lovable, and complex just in time for the protagonist to meet them...they shouldn't be declaring their love and undying affection every three pages...they shouldn't always interact romantically, it needs to be subtle too, they need to be characters as well as love-interests.
►"Suddenly" is a delicate term. Abrupt may fit into some instances..."as abruptly they hit someone" but the "suddenly" adverb others, "suddenly their feet flew out from under them." Consider whether the abruptness or suddenness is apparent from the phrasing. The reader is viewing it as a sudden action, not always does it need to be named.
►You've gotta love writing to write. That is all.
Hopefully, Reader, the gems of wisdom gained are sufficient and prove emolument for the perusing of this article. Really, thanks for reading; thanks for writing. I hope that helps, and remember, the manner which you write and standard by which you write are your decisions‼
Yes, all writers do hope the elves will come in the night and finish their stories, all do just write, and they all paint their voices. Neil Gaiman, and Voltaire for ze quotes. The pen is also mightier than the sword; always, and you must write the story that wants to be written (Madeleine L'Engle). Castles in the air never exist in real life, but once you pick up the quill, the pen, the pencil...daydreamings are the limit.
-Anacostia.
Fortunately, my munificence has no bounds. Or rather, I might counter the stemming tide of tips which I strongly disagree with, rather than simply whinging ineffectually.
(This is what is termed: "Stream of consciousness" or in other words endless blather. The egomania is merely a side-effect of typing quite rapidly.)
Before I embark on my as-promised tips for writing, I've decided to list a sample of my writing projects as follows. Some have been swirling in the stormy depths of my head for some time (think seven years), some are nascent arrivals to my portfolio of stories.
•The Queen of Tyreusa. The eldest of my projects, it dates from seven years ago when, admittedly, I imagined scenes from it while trying to go to sleep. I neglected to think up any motivation, character building, description, or successive plots... In this installment the Queen of Tyreusa, Corinna, is the sovereign of the nation Tyreusa, having been in that capacity for eight years, and much has been placed on her adolescent shoulders. Including, but not limited to, raiders in the north, declarations of war from neighboring states, and nefarious advisers. When a plan from one state goes awry, and peace talks are called before it is too late, she recognizes one in the cadre of politicians sent. Who happens to be the king of that country, Hytermaire. Also, her former, vanished friend.
•Wutherwell story. Set in, fine, I confess, what used to be my concept of A Tale of Two Cities (a parallel world with carriage overpasses, and flying somethings. No stonings! One city could be located in the parallel world, the other could be on Earth. Perfectly logical. Needless to say, I dissuaded myself of that notion) this stars a girl named Rhaedlwyn Dartmoor: nineteen years old, cloistered and introverted in a cathedral town called...yes...yes...Wutherwell! Thereafter, her best friend deserts from the air force (named the Air Legions) and with a fair dose of emotional altercation, she ends up in the Air Legions herself. Sequel is set on the Orient Express, several months afterward. Originally a National Novel Writing Month (i.e. NaNoWriMo) story.
•Robin Hood re-telling. A few scattered portions and an unclear plot are all there is of this story characterized by elements perhaps borrowed from "Robin of Sherwood" and cringe-inducingly similar to the BBC Robin Hood of 2010. Sans all magic and magical elements, mind. Note for the latter, that was entirely incidental, as my knowledge of that originates in pop culture references from the Internet and BBC previews.
•Cyberpunk. Inspired when I was perusing a tome of theoretical physics (I believe it was Physics of the Impossible, by Michio Kaku if you must know) and noted they explained if light was refracted via solar panels consistently over the Martian atmosphere, it would warm, melt the polar caps, and thus make it habitable in a while. Well, this is set after that while, in the dusty plains of Mars in a town called New Locktown. Trust me, all I'm missing is a plot for little miss Leigh Aubrey.
Synopsis, The Queen of Tyreusa, and names; everything relating to stories named is copyright of Anacostia Mirabow-Marignac. For reproduction or copy rights, contact her on Google+. I might not bite your head off.
Ah, yes. Notes, tips, and advice:
►Do nothing to your primary or auxiliary characters without the audience liking them first. And you, too, you're the book's primary audience.
►Do not enact what the audience wants, or what would perfect the character's lives, do instead what adds drama. Drama--DRAMA‼
►Basically that means write for yourself, not for an audience. Do add what makes drama, though.
►Don't be afraid of saccharine writing. If it is too emesis-inductive then you can change it, but often the best drama results from grandness, elegance, or sweetness.
►Stress not about characters. Write them, and characterization will come at last.
►Use touching moments with care.
►If writing a romantic or sentimental scene or work, make sure the characters involved are not defined solely by the romance. They shouldn't be handsome, kind, gallant, lovable, and complex just in time for the protagonist to meet them...they shouldn't be declaring their love and undying affection every three pages...they shouldn't always interact romantically, it needs to be subtle too, they need to be characters as well as love-interests.
►"Suddenly" is a delicate term. Abrupt may fit into some instances..."as abruptly they hit someone" but the "suddenly" adverb others, "suddenly their feet flew out from under them." Consider whether the abruptness or suddenness is apparent from the phrasing. The reader is viewing it as a sudden action, not always does it need to be named.
►You've gotta love writing to write. That is all.
Hopefully, Reader, the gems of wisdom gained are sufficient and prove emolument for the perusing of this article. Really, thanks for reading; thanks for writing. I hope that helps, and remember, the manner which you write and standard by which you write are your decisions‼
 |
The Essence of Writing.
|
Yes, all writers do hope the elves will come in the night and finish their stories, all do just write, and they all paint their voices. Neil Gaiman, and Voltaire for ze quotes. The pen is also mightier than the sword; always, and you must write the story that wants to be written (Madeleine L'Engle). Castles in the air never exist in real life, but once you pick up the quill, the pen, the pencil...daydreamings are the limit.
-Anacostia.
Sunday, May 18, 2014
You heard me say (or rather didn't) there were to be reviews? Official, Stately, and Grandly Designated Review of Victor Hugo's Epic "Les Misérables"
A short PREFACE:
It was not arduous. Trekking through twelve-hundred some pages is hardly a carefree task, and indeed I became burnt-out on it about one-quarter of the way through. Oh, yes. It was "Cosette" so precisely so.
This is my original, unchanged, and slightly refurbished review... It contains my notes, ruminations, and many, many spoilers. When you concentrate on the large capital letters, skip under the next capital letters, gentle Reader...Otherwise I am not liable for any spoilers sustained, my deep apologies.
It is divided into parts...i.e., "THE EDITION" "TEH WRITING". It is five pages, took one week. The beginning lines of it are my notes, from, well, page 729 onwards. Good luck.
*alarum* *glorious banners* *palanquin bearing scroll enters*
THE NOT-SO-OFFICIAL REVIEW OF HUGO'S "LES MISÉRABLES." (Also known as: Victor Hugo's "Read It And Weep."
I wonder if this portion was written before or after V. H.'s opinion of Napolean III declined.
The afternoon in Mont-Sur-Maire (M____ sur ____) I will always remember. It was "high fantastical". Deus Ex Machina....It was heartrending, one of the heartrending moments of the story. It honestly reveals the depth and goodness of Valjean's character, and the contrast to Javert's.
It was not arduous. Trekking through twelve-hundred some pages is hardly a carefree task, and indeed I became burnt-out on it about one-quarter of the way through. Oh, yes. It was "Cosette" so precisely so.
This is my original, unchanged, and slightly refurbished review... It contains my notes, ruminations, and many, many spoilers. When you concentrate on the large capital letters, skip under the next capital letters, gentle Reader...Otherwise I am not liable for any spoilers sustained, my deep apologies.
It is divided into parts...i.e., "THE EDITION" "TEH WRITING". It is five pages, took one week. The beginning lines of it are my notes, from, well, page 729 onwards. Good luck.
*alarum* *glorious banners* *palanquin bearing scroll enters*
THE NOT-SO-OFFICIAL REVIEW OF HUGO'S "LES MISÉRABLES." (Also known as: Victor Hugo's "Read It And Weep."
Chapter IV| Epic of Saint Denis.
I wonder if this portion was written before or after V. H.'s opinion of Napolean III declined.
p. 729. A hammer nailing a metaphorical coffin of Poland is
arguably ill-omened no matter what, eh?
p. 730. ...And here there will presumably be a coffeehouse
proprieted by one Monsieur Defarge and his wife. Darn, wrong revolution.
p.736. N.B. Research "Ca ira".
Book II of Epic of Saint Denis. "Éponine."|
p. 746. Marius and Marianne Dashwood should form a club. Would
like to elaborate, due to long-windedness, but I figure it's pithy enough left
standing and not drenched in loquacity... back to Les Miz.
p. 746. Marius really shouldn't be knocked off.
p. 747. You need a telephone book, Marius.
p. 748. Law affiliates in books about the French Revolution duel: Sydney Carton vs. Marius. Funny how "lawyer" was a lowly profession then, unlike now!
p. 744. If a love triangle happens to present itself!!!!
p. 755. Inter-classic shipping: Marius Pontmorency and Marianne Dashwood.
p. 757. Please tell me Éponine doesn't die ☺.
p. 780. Cosette: "Father, why do you eat miserable bread like that?"
Jean Valjean: "Because Reasons, my daughter."
Cosette: "...Well if you eat it, I shall eat it."
Blackmail! Da dum daa!
p. 795. Wouldn't it be nice if you could distinguish between Gavroche, Enjolras, and other-Enjolras? For the first and last it's easy, I concede the point.
p. 746. Marius really shouldn't be knocked off.
p. 747. You need a telephone book, Marius.
p. 748. Law affiliates in books about the French Revolution duel: Sydney Carton vs. Marius. Funny how "lawyer" was a lowly profession then, unlike now!
p. 744. If a love triangle happens to present itself!!!!
p. 755. Inter-classic shipping: Marius Pontmorency and Marianne Dashwood.
p. 757. Please tell me Éponine doesn't die ☺.
p. 780. Cosette: "Father, why do you eat miserable bread like that?"
Jean Valjean: "Because Reasons, my daughter."
Cosette: "...Well if you eat it, I shall eat it."
Blackmail! Da dum daa!
p. 795. Wouldn't it be nice if you could distinguish between Gavroche, Enjolras, and other-Enjolras? For the first and last it's easy, I concede the point.
p.796. Correct me if I'm wrong, but Victor Hugo, did you just say
all black-skinned people are slaves?
p. 800. So, basically, Marius follows the tenet of: "I don't
want to cheer up, it's nicer to be miserable?"
p.806. Narm... "Thou art" really Marius?
p. 808. If Cosette still doesn't realize this is
Marius writing that epistle...!!!!!
p. 809. I think you should play video games, Marius, it's a little
more productive than spooning.
p. 810. ...
p. 810. ...
p. 813. Cosette that was the most sensible reaction.
p. 814. *angels sing on high*
p. 822. Now finally I can figure out who Gavroche is!
Review to come.
Out of many one of the most striking things about this work
of literature is the grasp of atrocious wars. It doubtlessly magnifies the
greatness of human nature, but it makes it a jolly good read in the process.
Summaries and millions of them have hitherto been written so it's
redundant to write another, beside the fact they normally are used to fill up
space...Yes, you know I'm right.
The writing is immediately tiresome to any reader, its level of
irksomeness depending on the translation. It might take a while to begin
properly; but once it does I promise it will not be regretted to read it.
Despite their limited appearances; I don't think Monsieur Mabeuf and Javert
(The latter is definitely far more prominent in the movie though. I know that
with absolute certainty without having watched it.) can be denominated as plot
devices. Almost with Javert... but not quite.
How can I begin to explain the ineffable quality of this book?
Adjectives may not describe it all. Striking, frightening, amazing, incredible,
unbelievable, realistic, romantical, saccharine, poignant, charismatic. And
that is just the beginning. Although as aforementioned it is aggrandized human
nature is so heartrendingly rendered: Jean Valjean, Marius, Enjolras, Éponine I
can only minimally complain.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Well I daresay it sounds I am more enamored with this review than
the book it is reviewing! So I shall amend that. (Or attempt to, I think the
review's pretty great).
I will make one thing abundantly clear: Cosette was a love-hate
character. At first she's selfless and cheerful than she's spoilt and frivolous
and back again.
Cosette: "Father, why do you eat miserable bread like
that?"
Jean
Valjean: "Because, my daughter."
Cosette:
"...Well if you eat it, I shall eat it."
To effectively SPOILER: SPOILER: SPOILER being responsible to the
broken hearts of four different people. Admitted that is not her fault.
SPOILER-END: SPOILER-END: SPOILER:END. One thing must be made abundantly clear
and that yes, I am not a proponent of everyone being sad in the entire book...
But her silliness and saccharinity was nearly about to drive me berserk.
For our erstwhile hero, Jean Valjean I shall dedicate the next few
paragraphs.
*clears throat*
Right. One: He steals two loaves of bread. Not one. Tho' "a
loaf of bread" sounds better. Two: He also steals forty sous which is
approximately three pennies in modern American currency. Three: You see, Javert
is rather indifferent to chasing after him for three-quarters of the book.
Four: He was in jail for nineteen years for trying to escape four times.
Now that we've eradicated odious misconceptions about this. Ahem.
Well, he needed better self-esteem that's for sure. At first that
was what comes to mind.
He is an immensely heroic character, who has touching
and heartrending moments. The scene in the village he becomes mayor where the
carriage is submersed in mud was astonishing; for a good deal of the plot it
was my favorite! How touching it was. The quality of his character, if I may be
so bold, is wordless.
Now... For Marius Pontmercy and Éponine the Great. Marius was a
dear, that is the only description one may use, though he was a genuine prat to
Éponine. He was sweet, aside from that: My beliefs on the infamous
"Cosette and Marius spoon" scene varied between laughing, rollings of
eyes, making "piffle" "pbbbt" sounds and smiling insipidly.
To depart from the romantic aspect of his character (What am I saying? That is
about most of it!) he was not quite the most rational,
realistic, personage in the eternity of writing. But he was kind,
good, devoted, lovable, and determined. Ah, skip the determined. And
replace it with the adjective "dreamy." As real life dictates...
dreaming isn't always the best, but with him, sometimes, it's fine.
Éponine - She well deserved the title of "Great" for she
was. I expected the preeminent love triangle... but of course a love triangle...
yet somehow it failed to enduringly annoy. She changed from a piteous, nearly
mad girl in poor surroundings to a lovely, heroic and courageous girl still in
poor surroundings... but yet noble. SPOILER:SPOILER:SPOILER And her last words?
"I think, Monsieur Marius," the girl said. "I was a
little bit in love with you."
And in the movie she SINGS A DUET with him, but, nevertheless.....
But nevertheless I take umbrage at that flagrant disregard for any common
emotion.
SPOILER-END:SPOILER-END:SPOILER-END. Did I just say Marius was
lovable? Be that as it may, he is.
(N.B. I could have shouted at the page for him to forget about
Cosette for four seconds enough to notice the poor, dis-affianced (Postscript: change that to in-affluent, I was unaware the definition of affianced was "engaged"), miserable,
golden-hearted girl by his side of course.)
Hm. Inspector Javert. He had a variety of Crowning Moments of
Awesome, and also Crowning Moments of, well, Crud. It was fairly a
dead-giveaway with Victor Hugo's lovely comparison to the one wolf of the
litter that the dam must kill for the others to make it out...
See, that character has many, many vulpine and lupine metaphors to his name. It is not very subtle but it's striking.
He was a bit Deus Ex Machina at times, that is to say quite often, but had his merits. As a character... Not really as a person. Regardless, who doesn't cheer (Soon to be ruthlessly and unspeakably cut short) when he lets Valjean go free?
See, that character has many, many vulpine and lupine metaphors to his name. It is not very subtle but it's striking.
He was a bit Deus Ex Machina at times, that is to say quite often, but had his merits. As a character... Not really as a person. Regardless, who doesn't cheer (Soon to be ruthlessly and unspeakably cut short) when he lets Valjean go free?
THE EDITION.
I have recently gained the knowledge (From reading the cover
inset, THAT WHICH I DO NOT RECOMMEND IF YOU HAVEN'T READ THE BOOK) that this
translation, Charles Wilbour's, was made by a friend of Hugo's (Yes, yes, I do
mean Charles Wilbour) and indeed the original English translation.
Applause. Privately when the editions of Julie Rose's and Charles
Wilbour's are set up beside eachother, I prefer Rose's. However, each of them
DEFINITELY requires a lot of getting used to. Very much so, and that is the one
of the great stumbling-blocks of this book.
TEH WRITING.
Deus Ex Machina parades on nearly every book, mind you (It's made
of Parts e.g. "Cosette", Books e.g. "Waterloo" and Chapters
e.g. "I") and occasionally that can become annoying but overall the
best writing in it disguises its stilted moments. Occasionally there is
ridiculously antiquated writing, but I note we don't complain as much about the
modernisms in Julie Rose's translation. Telling. Numerous lovely, saccharine,
heartrending, and beautiful moments were spread about SPOILER: SPOILER:SPOILER
Just for Éponine's fall, not only do you want to use the word "fall"
in lieu of "death" but it will stick with you, and everywhere you
read it will be incorporated to a milieu of memory.
SPOILER-END:SPOILER-END:SPOILER-END. It was beautiful. Cosette and Marius'
meeting was enough to bring, consecutively, eye-rolls, "HAH"s, head-tosses,
relieved sighs, smiles, and laughs. Good old couple, they shouldn't singly be
remembered for the end.
The afternoon in Mont-Sur-Maire (M____ sur ____) I will always remember. It was "high fantastical". Deus Ex Machina....It was heartrending, one of the heartrending moments of the story. It honestly reveals the depth and goodness of Valjean's character, and the contrast to Javert's.
And the much controversial: Waterloo. Plainly I can't see why
everyone complains... It spends sixty pages discussing something unrelated to
the plot, but intricately interwoven with the setting of France and though not
really underscoring the July Revolution, made recompense in the excitement. I
consider myself a fairly prolific reader of history yet I could not find a more
zestful one. Yes, sixty some pages digressing from the plot, Marius, the ABC
and all is zestful. It hardly detracts from the quality, in fact adds, and an
abridged edition cannot in my estimation past muster.
Mm. Yes. The Friends of the ABC got better. Please, please,
please, take my word for it and STUDY THEM WHEN THEY FIRST APPEAR. I tell you,
you will by no means regret it. Of course it will hurt even more that way.
Brutality of war, mind you Reader.
Doubtlessly more elaboration will present itself, but I will
simply close this review with the acknowledgement this is an unforgettable
AMAZING book.
Mmm. Thanks for reading!
Erstwhile "Blogger", Eternal Bibliophile, Inestimably Long-Winded (Though, I am lachrymose to admit, little of that aforementioned loquacity was immediately evident.),
-Anacostia Mirabow-Marignac!
Saturday, May 10, 2014
A lexicon of which Austen and Dickens would be proud. Obfuscating, incognito, premeditated, and other adjectives, Or: Remember, you got it all here. A discourse upon language.
Today's post (or in any case this one) will be about the illustrious and highly multifarious topic of...
The English Language! Renowned for it's obfuscation to anyone not a native speaker, and no wonder for it's tremendous confusion, you see, with all the repetitions of words with differentiations of meaning, elitist and perfectionist linguists, who, as a whole, do not include me as a member in ANY DEGREE, and the wondrous, wonderful, and neat words. I'll open with a list of my favorite syllabics of English (as is evident, I happen to like quite a many):
•Incognito. It possesses the i-t without a disgusting sound, in fact seeming vaguely of Romance language.
•Obfuscating. You've guessed this, haven't you? Too little of folk use it nowadays... A pity.
•Dickensian. Hearkens of everything Oliver Twist and David Copperfield; including the moving passages, stunning characters, and wonderful names, even not the extremely obfuscating phraseology (Which is a word your opinionated Author believes professors of English primarily use).
•Cherish. Raindrops on roses & whiskers on kittens are brought to mind, candy hearts, and golden roses, et all...!
•Rhodomontade. Unless you REALLY paid attention reading Northanger Abbey, this will not occur much in your day-to-day discourse. In case Good Reader is wondering, it means hubris or arrogance; bluster, or, Merriam-Webster informs me (for even I need the dictionary, in fact without it...) a rant.
•Incidentally. It's "by the way" in one word, four syllables, and intelligence. Not to say only people with an extensive vocabulary are intelligent, mind you.
To differentiate this from the stock pedagogical pamphlet of pandering professors of prose and picky declamations of precision, there might be a bit of ranting. And naturally my rhodomontadenous (That is not "rhododendron." It is the adjectival form of rhodomontade) voice.
Firstly, I would explain my method of talking: This will overlap with the second mark. Tell you what, while it is highly convoluted, almost fatuous, sanctimonious, supercilious and tiring, I would MUCH rather sound like, say, Elizabeth Bennet with my "Good graciouses" and "My heavens" than a common dis-user of language and profanity (Yes, okay, it is nice to swear oaths when your dog happens to be particularly annoying... or a un-premeditated faceplant, but I prefer a modicum!). It may sound like Robert Bulwar-Lytton's infamous opening sentence ("It was a dark, and stormy night" Which personally I adore) Nonetheless, Reader, it is far superior to "Yo, #YOLOswag,". Savvy?
Secondly, there is a great many words in our language, common and uncommon, contemporary and antique. While I cannot encroach on anyone else's method of reading or writing, or talking or speech, I CAN include a bit about the origins and words in English. Especially those that I use!
Between the fog and heath of Scotland, the cold of Scandinavia, and the guttural pre-German a language evolved in England: Old English. This was not even the English of "When that Aprile with his shoures soote... When Zephyrus eek his sweet breath" and its Canterbury Tales, this was a different entity hundreds of years before at the time of Rome's fall: the fifth century. Even, in England, there were dialects in Northumberland, Wales, the center of England, London...making many people's language mutually indecipherable. This went on until the eleven-hundreds, at the advent of Middle-English. That is fairly obfuscating to a contemporary reader also. Think Shakespeare's Folios... With "e"'s, "y"'s "u"'s, and elsewise confusing additions and deductions.
Geoffrey Chaucer was heavily responsible for the beginning of Middle-English, also (Chaucer's "eek", in case you're wondering) with the amount of authors evolving their tongue, it was impossible for change.
By the time of Queen Elizabeth it all was fairly straightforward. Shakespeare did his thing, the common rabble ate it up, the gentry raised their eyebrows and stifled smiles, Elizabeth ruled, London was a veritable hive of villainy, et all. (Incidentally Shakespeare's writ was more complex than the common language of that time).
Ahem. Merriam-Webster is a sapient thing indeed.
BUT, I digress. While we have the means and references to speak our language why don't we? The adjective "brainy" is not in personal use, for the preferred medium of conveying that thought? Under erudite's jurisdiction. Prats, jesters, celebrities, jackanapes, mendicants, eleemosynary personages, lovely ones, foolish ones, cheery ones, phlegmatic ones all go around... Well, you can't cover all of them with a few words and an adjective. Language, language, language, ladies and gentlemen and let us all persist verbose.
Thanks for reading, er, Reader,
-Anacostia Mirabow-Marignac.
The English Language! Renowned for it's obfuscation to anyone not a native speaker, and no wonder for it's tremendous confusion, you see, with all the repetitions of words with differentiations of meaning, elitist and perfectionist linguists, who, as a whole, do not include me as a member in ANY DEGREE, and the wondrous, wonderful, and neat words. I'll open with a list of my favorite syllabics of English (as is evident, I happen to like quite a many):
•Incognito. It possesses the i-t without a disgusting sound, in fact seeming vaguely of Romance language.
•Obfuscating. You've guessed this, haven't you? Too little of folk use it nowadays... A pity.
•Dickensian. Hearkens of everything Oliver Twist and David Copperfield; including the moving passages, stunning characters, and wonderful names, even not the extremely obfuscating phraseology (Which is a word your opinionated Author believes professors of English primarily use).
•Cherish. Raindrops on roses & whiskers on kittens are brought to mind, candy hearts, and golden roses, et all...!
•Rhodomontade. Unless you REALLY paid attention reading Northanger Abbey, this will not occur much in your day-to-day discourse. In case Good Reader is wondering, it means hubris or arrogance; bluster, or, Merriam-Webster informs me (for even I need the dictionary, in fact without it...) a rant.
•Incidentally. It's "by the way" in one word, four syllables, and intelligence. Not to say only people with an extensive vocabulary are intelligent, mind you.
To differentiate this from the stock pedagogical pamphlet of pandering professors of prose and picky declamations of precision, there might be a bit of ranting. And naturally my rhodomontadenous (That is not "rhododendron." It is the adjectival form of rhodomontade) voice.
Firstly, I would explain my method of talking: This will overlap with the second mark. Tell you what, while it is highly convoluted, almost fatuous, sanctimonious, supercilious and tiring, I would MUCH rather sound like, say, Elizabeth Bennet with my "Good graciouses" and "My heavens" than a common dis-user of language and profanity (Yes, okay, it is nice to swear oaths when your dog happens to be particularly annoying... or a un-premeditated faceplant, but I prefer a modicum!). It may sound like Robert Bulwar-Lytton's infamous opening sentence ("It was a dark, and stormy night" Which personally I adore) Nonetheless, Reader, it is far superior to "Yo, #YOLOswag,". Savvy?
Secondly, there is a great many words in our language, common and uncommon, contemporary and antique. While I cannot encroach on anyone else's method of reading or writing, or talking or speech, I CAN include a bit about the origins and words in English. Especially those that I use!
Between the fog and heath of Scotland, the cold of Scandinavia, and the guttural pre-German a language evolved in England: Old English. This was not even the English of "When that Aprile with his shoures soote... When Zephyrus eek his sweet breath" and its Canterbury Tales, this was a different entity hundreds of years before at the time of Rome's fall: the fifth century. Even, in England, there were dialects in Northumberland, Wales, the center of England, London...making many people's language mutually indecipherable. This went on until the eleven-hundreds, at the advent of Middle-English. That is fairly obfuscating to a contemporary reader also. Think Shakespeare's Folios... With "e"'s, "y"'s "u"'s, and elsewise confusing additions and deductions.
Geoffrey Chaucer was heavily responsible for the beginning of Middle-English, also (Chaucer's "eek", in case you're wondering) with the amount of authors evolving their tongue, it was impossible for change.
By the time of Queen Elizabeth it all was fairly straightforward. Shakespeare did his thing, the common rabble ate it up, the gentry raised their eyebrows and stifled smiles, Elizabeth ruled, London was a veritable hive of villainy, et all. (Incidentally Shakespeare's writ was more complex than the common language of that time).
Ahem. Merriam-Webster is a sapient thing indeed.
BUT, I digress. While we have the means and references to speak our language why don't we? The adjective "brainy" is not in personal use, for the preferred medium of conveying that thought? Under erudite's jurisdiction. Prats, jesters, celebrities, jackanapes, mendicants, eleemosynary personages, lovely ones, foolish ones, cheery ones, phlegmatic ones all go around... Well, you can't cover all of them with a few words and an adjective. Language, language, language, ladies and gentlemen and let us all persist verbose.
Thanks for reading, er, Reader,
-Anacostia Mirabow-Marignac.
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