Answers served with approximately fifty percent helpfulness and fifty percent sass
Kate Kearney searched: How do you know what matters in a story? Will there be a quiz at the end?
What matters in a story is the thing that turns Grandpa’s fish story into a story about the confluence of patience and chance and skill and luck, and the desire to force those powers into alignment again.
What matters in a story is that thing that makes the Iliad into a story about anger, the kind that you have the right to carry when the powers don’t give you your due, and what you don’t have the right to do when you’re angry.
What matters in a story is that thing that makes Romeo and Juliet the villains in their own tragedy.
What matters in a story is the thing that makes both Katniss and Cato victims of a world gone wrong, and might even make Cato the more pitiable of the two for all the life that was stolen from him.
And yes, there will probably be a quiz.
It might be administered by a professor, who wants you to know three themes the author discussed, the metaphors they used to reinforce them, and why they matter.
It might be given by your best friend, who wants to know if you noticed her favorite character and that one awesome line that ties the whole plot together for her.
It might just be given by yourself, as you flip through trying to remember where that one scene was with the dragon explanation for life on earth…
Flip the Otter searched: Who are the five best packing moving companions?
1) Your best friend(s) – They show up, when you ask them, where you ask them. They’re ninety percent less likely to break something than a regular moving crew, and if they do break something, it’s ninety percent less likely to be something that you actually care about, because Fate doesn’t like to play tricks with real friendship.
2) Your significant other – I have it on good authority, that you can get them to sign up for a full day of moving boxes, dismantling furniture, and driving long miles just to set it all back up again, for the low price of one pizza and a multitude of smiles.
3) Tony “the Mechanic ” Stark – If he can’t figure out how to take that enigmatic furniture apart into portable pieces and put it back together again at the end, no one can. If he can’t figure out the hitch for your freshly rented trailer, he’ll never live down the shame.
4) Clark Kent – He’s too nice to turn you down, and just might make that trailer unnecessary. And if Tony doesn’t decide to race him to see who can get your couches to your new house faster, I’ll be a gerbil’s aunt.
5) Sookie St. James – You’ll have to dedicate a guardian to her to make sure she doesn’t light something on fire, or knock your new house over, but she’ll bring more good food than you can eat, which is probably the most important piece of any good moving day. So long as your guardian does their job well. I suggest giving Clark Kent the job.
Ducky searched: What did people use for minor cuts before band-aids?
Tape and cotton.
The innovation of the band-aid was not the materials, but the ease of application. They were invented by Earle Dickson, specifically for his wife Josephine, who frequently cut and burned herself while cooking. The band-aid allowed her to care for her injuries without assistance.
Josephine and I have a lot in common. Thank you, Earle.
Kate Kearney searched: Why won’t my cat sit in that box?
Because you haven’t labeled it a throne, and lined up its subjects to bow as it takes its official seat.
Or because it’s not small enough to make it a real challenge to fit its fluffy bum in it.
Flip the Otter searched: Do I have to do my homework? Do I have to do my homework now?
Did you mean: I don’t want to do my homework, but I think I need to do my homework, but I can’t come up with a good reason on my own, so give me a good reason, but make it a really good reason otherwise I’ll glare at you for giving me insipid advice?
[backs one hundred miles and eight un-ford-able rivers away from that one can of worms]
[whispers] Do what you think is best. Which might be doing your homework. And maybe at least part of it right now.
(I think it’s a conspiracy. Just look at his face.)
Flip the Otter searched: “Creative Writing” AND “Fantasy Fiction” NOT “Science Fiction” (eh, I’ve used that search in every other search engine/database I could think off so why not Gwendoogle?)
Did you mean: The actual definition of a blurred line?
I’m not sure how to classify stories as science fiction or fantasy.
There are some things that seem clear, like wizards and dragons and magical rings, but… are we forgetting that Saruman the Wise created large amounts of chaos for our dear Walkers with a little handy genetic engineering that allowed the Uruk-hai to walk in the day?
And robots seem pretty set into science fiction, with all the wires and buttons and electricity, but… are we forgetting that Sonny spontaneously developed a soul, for no other reason than that his creator wanted him to have it?
Your search seems to have broken our algorithms.
DJ Matticus searched: Ah, dang. I would have liked to go to the hero barbecue! Are they still there hanging out? Do you need help convincing them it is time for them to get back to work?
They’re still here. You would think that that many men who spend ninety percent of their public life in spandex and tights would pay more attention to how many hamburgers they wolf down, but it doesn’t seem to be an issue for them. I’m proud of them.
I just also wish that they’d get back to work, because the supervillains of the world are paying more attention to my front yard than they ever have before (and that’s saying something…) and it’s starting to creep me out. I’m afraid someone is going to discover my underground bunker and the plans for the time machine in the back corner, and I’m not sure who I’m most afraid of.
Yes, I’d like some help. Come on over.
Have a question for Gwendoogle? Leave it in comments below and I’ll be back next week to answer it.
The question bucket currently has: 10 questions