Answers served with some longer answers than usual
Kate Kearney searched: How many thesauri does it take to vanquish a prose block?
Short detour in the form of a story, which will absolutely lead to an answer:
In college, I accidentally became a Classical Studies major. When I say accidentally, I mean it invoke the image of a small child in a yellow rain slicker happily smashing through puddles who suddenly finds that her next puddle is five feet deep and she’s looking up at the glimmer of yellow sunlight through the blue sparkle of clear water. I had no idea what I was getting into, but it was beautiful.
After about two months of studying Ancient Greek, single words in regular conversations suddenly began to distract me and send me on long mental quests to find their ancient roots. One day, sitting at lunch, someone mentioned a thesaurus. I spent a few blinking minutes pulling it apart into the Greek layers of theos and sauros. Then I blinked some more at why someone would call a collection of synonyms the God Lizard.
As is my way, I said it out loud and loudly. Everyone blinked, burst out laughing, repeated it incredulously, and trusted my skills as a linguist only until Google finished loading. Thesaurus actually came from the Latin word for collection or treasury. But it was too late to keep from calling it the God Lizard.
So, your answer my friend, is that you only need one. It’s a god. Why would anyone ever need more than one reptilian, patron of the arts deity?
Kate Kearney searched: Will you write a Halloween short story?
Oh, probably. I have a hard time not doing what I’m asked when I realize that I’ve never done it before. It’s a condition I have.
Although, you could save the world from my attempt at a scary story by telling me that I have to do it. Like, my life won’t be complete until I write a Halloween story. Because I have a very easy time being contrary to demands. It’s another condition.
Flip the Otter searched: Have you ever gotten a manicure or a pedicure?
Yes. During college, one of my apartment mates invited our entire apartment home to get haircuts and pedicures and a much-needed break from classes. We had a long day out that included losing heavy inches off our hair, eating fabulous Mexican food, blue and purple and red pedicures, and a walk down the beach to tangle our new haircuts in sweet salt.
It was a near perfect day in my opinion, but anyone who gets regular pedicures likes to inform me that the sand was the worst thing I could have done to the fresh polish. I had no idea, and honestly, I think I’d always choose a walk in the sand over color on my toes anyway.
Kate Kearney searched: Is this spooky enough for you?
I’ve never found beaches particularly spooky. In the sun, I think it’s nearly impossible, between the quick heat, the soothing water, and the wind that wraps you up and makes you feel cozy and alone with the way it steals faraway sounds off to somewhere you’ve never been. In the dark, when fires hide things in the shadows, and the moon turns the world black and white, it might happen, but I’ve always felt beaches were fairly defensible. Things become visible a long way off in the sand, and I know how to defend myself from any of the dangerous things that might crawl their way up from the water.
So, yes, it’s absolutely spooky enough for me, since I don’t like spooky things.
Kate Kearney searched: What would make it spookier?
Floating jellyfish who know my name.
Yep, that would definitely do it. Imagine how much time you’d spend trying to convince yourself that they were only ghosts.
Kate Kearney searched: How can I get my ghost to be quiet?
Atta, girl. That’s the way to live in denial.
First, pretend that that’s not your name. It could be that your
jellyfish ghost only knows your name through hearsay and doesn’t actually know what you look like. If you stay quiet, it may decide it has the wrong beach-goer and float off to search for you elsewhere.
If that doesn’t buy you any peace, ask it what it wants. Whatever it says, convince it that that is exactly the prize for winning The Quiet Game.
If your ghost is too smart for that, go on an epic quest to either find the world’s best hiding place or whatever it was that your ghost asked for. Whichever would be more fun.
Flip the Otter searched: Pretty men snarking or brilliant women sassing?
The answer has to be BOTH, because I should never be asked to chose between my snark and my sass. And the answer has to be both and their opposites, because sassy men and snarky women also make my world go round.
But all that being said, the answer I’m giving is brilliant women sassing for one simple reason: I can list a thousand snarky men off the top of my head – Captain Jack Sparrow, Porthos, Locke Lamora, Kvothe, Eli Monpress, Augustus Waters, Finnick Odair, Nealan of Queenscove, Perry Miller, Clint Barton, Dean Winchester, Sherlock Holmes – but I struggle to think of one woman who has struck me as hard with the same quick, heady, brilliant reposte. So, for its rareness, I demand more brilliant women sassing.
Do you have any for me?
Kate Kearney searched: Any NaNoWriMo preparation tips?
Sleep now. It is always better to begin without any sleep debt.
Invent things to be very excited about. This works best if they are things in your novel, and if they are spaced through your plot that you’ll hit one every couple of days. Having that neat thing on the horizon will keep you going better than any combination of caffeine, sugar, and hysteria.
Relax, gorge yourself on prose that you love, make lists of all the reasons that you like to write, and all the reasons words are the best magic on earth.
Tattoo the words “Have fun” onto the backs of your hands, to remind you what your aim is while you type madly.
Have a quesstion for Gwendoogle? Leave it in comments below and I’ll be back next week to answer more questions.
The question bucket currently has: 38 questions