Writing, Editing - Bagman's Gazette

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Writing, Editing - Bagman's Gazette

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Giant Mythical Herring Discovered in Sweden

May 17th 2010 07:30

A wonderfully rare and ancient Herring, measuring close to 12 feet long, was found dead near a small fishing village on Sweden's west coast.

Also known as the 'giant oarfish', the King of Herrings is the world's longest bony fish, with specimens known to reach a whopping 12 metres in length.

A remarkably rare species, the oarfish is the first sighting of its kind in the last 130 years, according to a neighbouring maritime museum.

A resident at the tiny fishing village of Bovallstrand, Kurt Ove Eriksson, said he saw what he first thought was a giant piece of plastic floating in the water. As he came nearer, he saw a huge eye, discovering what he describes as an "extremely strange fish".

The House of the Sea Museum, in Lysekil, has said the rare King of Herrings is thought to live in depths up to 1000 metres, with many believing it linked with arcane deep sea monster myths.

The museum has released a statement of the find, saying the titan like animal was discovered with a deep cut through its body, as well as its typically resplendent back fin missing.

The fish is now frozen inside the museum, and is purportedly set to be used in an up and coming mythical sea monster exhibition.

Ninety six year old local, Signe Boomtang, talks of strange occurrences surrounding the giant herring, saying on any given day, an effluvious aroma can often be detected wafting behind the Bovallstrand mountains. She has also attested to numerous and much larger sightings of 'beastly', scaly carcases, which were found along the riverbank, similarly without their fins.

Ms Boomtang attributes the findings to activities of the clandestine Scandinavian Underwater Mythological Society (SUMS) who, she says, use the fins for ancient sea rituals, as well as rather pleasant hot tub experiences.

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Posted By: Andy Tope - Category: Writing, Editing

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Writing

April 26th 2008 12:52

Hi. I know I should post more often, and I hope those that come here find something of interest.

At the moment I have a job. I am writing the one hundred year history of Shepparton High School. I put in a tender for the job. At the interview I said that I would write the human history of the school. First draft by July this year.

A word of warning, if you should ever consider such a job, be sure it’s what you really want to do.

Consider the parameters of this job.

100 years of history starting in 1909.

Maximum of 250 pages.

Basically two and a bit pages per year. Several thousand people attended the school during the last hundred years. Almost everyone from the period from 1909 to 1940 has “passed away” as they say, or, tend to be a bit vague, confused, senile.

250 pages is not enough. What to include, leave out? I really have no idea. There is just so much to tell, so many people with stories, shit, the sports alone would take up a couple thousand pages.

Then there is the question of history itself. History is what really happened, what the people got up to. Should one only write what the powers that be want to hear, or, do you write the truth?

Little things that come out of interviews, like the story of the young female student that was making a start in free enterprise by introducing the male students to sex education on a pay per lesson approach in the packing boxes of the fruit cannery which backed onto the sports field. And this was the forties too.

Would the school council really want the truth in this case? Perhaps not.

The other side is gathering the information, I mean, in this case there is a guy who resembles Sanity Clause walking around the town, stopping people in the street and asking if they attended the high school. (And everybody knows there is no such thing as a sanity clause, thank you Chico Marx)

John Cleese may be the minister for funny walks, but, I’d have to be the minister for funny looks.

The other day I went to a reunion in Melbourne and interviewed some fifteen sweet old ladies who attended the school in the fifties. When I got back to Bendigo the car had a flat battery and when I finally got home I found that the microphone had suffered premature death and there was nothing on any of the recordings.

So, you want to be a writer?

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Posted By: Bullamakanka - Category: Writing, Editing

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The Purple Envelope

February 5th 2008 04:26

While we are on the subject of writing exercises Handed a piece of paper with the words "Purple Envelope" in the class for short stories. Again twenty minutes for a story.

Yeah, it sounds silly and the chances of a master piece are slim. But, as a workout for your imagination it does what it is meant to do.

Give it a try with the words "Purple Envelope" You have twenty minutes.

The Purple Envelope

As I stood there watching as Sara walked down the isle on the arm
of her father I knew I had made the best decision of my life. Her father gave
me her hand and stood to one side as we faced the preacher. I have been
assured that I made all the correct responses, even getting the ``I do'' out
on the first attempt. There was the reception, the telegrams and speeches and
all the rest. But for all the pomp and carry on, of that our wedding day, the
only clear memory I have is of my new brides face and the joy of life shining
in her eyes.

We spent the next two weeks at a ski lodge in Idaho doing what
newlyweds do. We even went out in the snow a couple of times.

The only down side was that when we got home it appeared that we
had had a break in. As far as we could tell nothing was taken but it was still
bad feeling to know that someone had been in our home.

In the next five years we had five children. At this time we
bought a larger house. As I was dismantling the bed for the move to our new
home I found a purple envelope stapled to the under side of it. I pulled the
staples out and opened the envelope. Inside was a silver disk about
seventy-five mm across. It was a master piece of the engravers art. In the
center was a hexagram of intricate design with superb detail. Around the
outside of the hexagram was engraved ``To my friend, may you prosper''.

Old man Bercht, one of the best engravers that ever lived, had died the year before. His daughter, Sara, had won gold
for the marathon at two consecutive Olympics. I carefully replaced the silver
disk in the purple envelope and put it in my pocket. In the end we bought a
new bed for the new house and while I was putting it together I stapled the
purple envelope to the underside. We had four more children. We prospered.

Was it cheating? I don't know.

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Posted By: Bullamakanka - Category: Writing, Editing

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Do I Know You

February 3rd 2008 11:44

When I finally decided that I should actually learn something about the craft of writing and signed up for the Professional Writing and Editing course, little did I know what insanity awaited me.

For one thing I thought we would be taught. Silly me. What I actually found was that I was expected to teach myself.

Does this sound anything like sane? Well, sane or not it was true. Writers can't teach you anything about writing.

The trick is, that they guide you down the paths of your mind, help you open doors to creativity you had no idea you had.

At times they shove you into the darkness where you find that you are the light.

One of the dirtiest tricks is they tell you to write a story about a subject. You get twenty minutes to write it.

So, subject; "What would you say to your self, if you, at eighty years of age, could travel back to today."

The trick to this situation is just to write, not think. Anyway, for what it's worth, this is what I wrote:

But, before you read what I wrote, do the exercise yourself. And it has to be a story and you have twenty minutes.

There I am. Sitting on that bench over there near the Turkish Takeaway. God did I ever look like that scruffy sod.

As I sit down next to myself I, well he really, looks up. A startled look flashes across his face. Then a look of relief settles there.

I can't help myself. `Seen a ghost kid?'

`Ah... No. Just thought I knew you. Do I know you?'

`Do you want to?'

`Huh?'

`I said do you want to? Know me that is.'

With a look bordering on panic he says. `I think I do already. I just can't remember where.'

`Yeah, well it will come to you.' The thought of "In about thirty years'' crosses my mind. I press on. `Doing your shopping?'

`No. Just had lunch. Got a class in half an hour.'

`Bit old to be a student aren't you? You would have to be at least fifty three.'

`What? Ah, yes... No. That is I'm not to old to be a student and how did you know I'm fifty three?'

`Just a guess. What are you doing in school?'

`Writing, creative writing really'

`Good for you. I'm a writer myself. Quite successful really.'

`Was it hard? I mean being successful.'

`Yes and no. It did take work but then I've never had so much fun either.'

He stands and looks at me as if he is hearing echoes and says.`I've got to go or I'll be late.' As he starts to walk away he turns and asks. `Is there a secret to success? Something I should know?'

`Enjoy what you're doing'

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Posted By: Bullamakanka - Category: Writing, Editing

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Back again

January 10th 2008 00:51

Back again.

First I would say a bit about Orble. I received an email from Orble asking if I required help with anything as I had not posted for awhile.

Some would say that they only are worried about their bandwidth use and dead bloggs taking up space.

Myself, I think that they truly care about the Orble community and the individuals that comprise the community.

I know that I am not the worlds greatest blogger, being a slack arsed bastard and all, but, I do enjoy the Orble community and the people I have met here.

Right now I need some help. I have been awarded the job of writing the one hundred year history for the Shepparton High School.

If you attended Shepparton High School, or know some one who is or has attended Shepparton High School, I want to talk to you.

When I pitched my vision of the history to the school I said that ai would write the human history. With out the staff and students stories the history of the school is just a bunch of dry facts, rather like a black and white picture.

The people on the other hand are the colour, the life and soul of the school.

My request is that you ask everybody you know whether they went to Shepparton High School. And then pester them to get in touch with me if they did. I am after stories and pictures.

Many thanks and hoping you all had a great holiday.

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Posted By: Bullamakanka - Category: Writing, Editing

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What’s all this about Magic

October 31st 2007 04:56

Well, magic is what makes the difference between a business report and a great novel.

Both are probably fiction, but, when you read a business report the reaction is often, “You’ve got to be joking.” While a great novel caresses your belief, molding it around the words, gently folding it to encompass a total world beyond reality. Origami of the soul. Where a single strip of wrinkled brown paper can contain the essence of a beautiful young lady.
Can you drive through a rainbow? Yes, I have done it. I have yet to find the words to do the experience the justice it deserves

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Posted By: Bullamakanka - Category: Writing, Editing

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Magic III

October 30th 2007 23:05

The full moon has been a time of great magic for thousands of years of mankind’s existence. Every month it is born, grows, fades and dies. It marks time, seasons, tides, fertility.

The moon symbolises the life cycle of man. The Celtic calendars were originally lunar

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Posted By: Bullamakanka - Category: Tales, Writing, Editing

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Magic II

October 28th 2007 02:39

Love is a form of magic. The first meeting, the first fleeting touch, the first kiss. These all are magical moments. But being in love can lead to other magic in the natural world.

There was a girl. I met her at the beach. Love is such an easy thing to fall into at seventeen. It’s the magic, you see. We had good times together

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Posted By: Bullamakanka - Category: Tales, Writing, Editing, Poetry

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Magic

October 26th 2007 15:10

Magic is not real. Science says so, this is of course incorrect.

In an infinite universe anything is possible. But you don’t have to go as far as that to find magic

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Posted By: Bullamakanka - Category: Tales, Writing, Editing

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Tales from the Pub, The right word

October 20th 2007 13:02

MATURE CONTENT

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Posted By: Bullamakanka - Category: Writing, Editing

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The Tortured Writer Syndrome

May 25th 2007 13:43

Alas, poor Horrocks, I knew him well.

Sorry about that, but if I’m going to be a tortured writer then the readers shall also be tortured. You have been warned

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Posted By: Bullamakanka - Category: Writing, Editing

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Just do it

February 6th 2007 02:25

Just do it!

That’s what I tell myself. Just do it. I know I should, but there are always reasons I can’t. So I sit here and tell myself to just do it

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Posted By: Bullamakanka - Category: Writing, Editing

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Symbolism

January 20th 2007 13:17

Symbolism has been a part of story telling for as long as man has been telling stories. This being the case why should writers worry about symbolism now. Surely, by now, it must be second nature .

Well, it is most certainly second nature to man. We can’t escape it. Often we don’t even see it on a conscious level. We can sit down with a well written book and experience an emotional roller coaster ride as we identify with the characters. Their problems, emotions and memories all echo within our own being. At the end of this reading experience we might say that the author writes well. The punctuation is in all the right places. The spelling is correct. Even the font is easy to read. But then these things hold true for many business reports and scientific papers, yet the thrill is not there

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Posted By: Bullamakanka - Category: Writing, Editing

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