CLOSED Giveaway

LLB Giveaway

February is Women in Horror Month (WiHM), and to celebrate I’ll be giving away a copy of Love Lies Bleeding. 

To enter:

  1. Share this post on social media. Each different place you share gets you one entry.
  2. Comment on this post letting me know where you’ve shared (links appreciated). Please also leave a way for me to get in touch with you should you win.

Simple, right? You have until the end of February, so get sharing! Check the Fine Print (below) for contest rules and regulations. Good luck!

Women in Horror Months is an inclusive event that aims to showcase the underrepresented work of women throughout the horror industry. This is the perfect time to seek out writing, art, and film you may have overlooked in the past. If you’d like to find out more about WiHM, click here.

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The Fine Print:  Continue reading “CLOSED Giveaway”

All Memories Are Everything

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I just read an interesting article in the Atlantic about why we can’t remember most of what we read (or watch), something that, according to the article, has irritated people at least since Plato. I thought it was just me that had an issue with recollection. I still can’t accurately quote passages (or even lines) from books I’ve read half a dozen times. Sometimes I have trouble remembering a specific fact (like a name or date) right after I finish reading about it. The article explains that this happens because we’ve traded “recall” memory for “recognition” memory; in other words, we don’t remember details because we know we can look them up in an external memory bank (a book, DVD, or website, for example).

While it can be frustrating not to be able to recall something you just read, I can see a few advantages to favouring recognition memory (with external memory banks) over recall. A non-writing culture where stories are memorized and passed down verbally would be continuously at risk of losing those stories. All you need is a little chaos in the system to take the priority off memorizing or passing down information. Nobody is going to be thinking about passing on verbal traditions in the midst of a plague, war, or famine. Without a written record to preserve information, it can easily be lost forever.

When stories are passed down verbally, there’s also the ongoing risk of “broken telephone.” Over time and re-telling, parts will be changed or forgotten, in some cases, perhaps, deliberately, to suit the teller’s preferences. That can, of course, happen with books, as well. But with a book, there’s usually an early version to be found and consulted. You can’t ask someone long dead to recite you their version of a story.

On a personal level, it can actually be a good thing to forget a book you read and enjoyed. It gives you the opportunity to go back later and read it again “for the first time.” Maybe you’ll find the memories flooding back, making the re-reading experience something like a happy reunion. Or maybe you’ll really have forgotten, giving you the rare chance to enjoy it all over again, as if you’d never read the story before.

One line at the end of the Atlantic’s article leaves me feeling that the way our minds work is something quite lovely.  While maybe it would be more convenient or impressive if memories were clean facts that could be extracted at will, the article states that instead, “all memories are everything.” Humans aren’t data banks. We aren’t discrete segments of information and experiences that can be added or deleted. We are made up of bits and pieces that merge together and form a whole. Everything we’ve read and seen and done is part of us, even if we can’t always dip into our memories and pull a piece out. That is wonderful and terrifying and so completely perfect. I don’t know about anyone else, but I wouldn’t trade that for perfect recall.

What do you think?

 

Wordy

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As someone whose entire life revolves around books and words, it struck me that I haven’t given much thought to words about books. It’s time to remedy that particular oversight.

00 bibliobib

The term was coined in 1957 by H. L. Mencken:

“There are people who read too much: bibliobibuli. I know some who are constantly drunk on books, as other men are drunk on whiskey or religion. They wander through this most diverting and stimulating of worlds in a haze, seeing nothing and hearing nothing.”

00 bibliophagist

If you can get drunk on books, why shouldn’t you devour them as well?

“Once you had got through Pooh and Dr. Dolittle, Alice and the Water Babies, you were a bibliophagist on the loose.”  —Nadine Gordimer,  Telling Times: Writing and Living, 1954–2008.

00 clerisy

Although “clerisy” seems to have an elitist connotation to it, I like Robertson Davies’s explanation of its meaning:

“The clerisy are those who seek, and find, delight and enlargement of life in books. The clerisy are those for whom reading is a personal art.” –A Voice from the Attic, 1960

00 tsundoku

I think every reader can relate to this.

“The word dates back to the very beginning of modern Japan, the Meiji era (1868-1912) and has its origins in a pun. Tsundoku, which literally means reading pile, is written in Japanese as 積ん読. Tsunde oku means to let something pile up and is written 積んでおく. Some wag around the turn of the century swapped out that oku (おく) in tsunde oku for doku (読) – meaning to read. Then since tsunde doku is hard to say, the word got mushed together to form tsundoku.” -From Open Culture

00 librocubi

Another one I can relate to. And if you’re wondering how to pronounce it:

The first use of it probably dates to 1921, in Christopher Morley’s Haunted Bookshop:

“‘All right,’ said the bookseller amiably. ‘Miss Chapman, you take the book up with you and read it in bed if you want to. Are you a librocubicularist?'”

00 omnilegent

“No historians have been more omnilegent, more careful of the document…” —George Saintsbury, A History of Nineteenth Century Literature.

#Goals

There are so many more words about books out there, so consider this post Part 1. In the meantime, what’s your favourite book-related word?

Reasons to Keep a Writer in Your Home

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I retweeted this on Twitter and I thought I’d share it here, too along with a few additions.

Original Tweet (via @PaperFury):

REASONS TO KEEP A WRITER IN YOUR HOME

• they know weird facts

• they’re low maintenance because all they do is eat and write

• great for midnight chats because they don’t sleep

• if they have to edit they’ll procrastinate by cleaning your whole house

I’ll also add:

  • They almost always come with cats (if you don’t like cats, then you should probably avoid writers in general)
  • Amazing book collection/personal library, which they’ll (most likely) share
  • Will never say no to a cozy night in
  • Lifetime (and then some) supply of pens, paper, and blank notebooks.
  • Always have coffee and/or tea on hand.

If you’ve got more to add, share in the comments…