/ Courtney / Language

How You Spell Dis?!?

This is the moth I drew with my mouse. And he is pretty. Shut up.

Once upon a time, a young man of my acquaintance named Matt told me the following story:

In college, Matt roomed with a foreign exchange student. I don’t remember the other guy’s name or where he was from, so I’m just going to call him Riku and say he was from Japan. Riku was always trying to improve his English, and anytime he heard a word that was new to him, he would ask Matt, “How you spell dis?” And Matt would oblige, spelling the word and helping Riku use the new word in a sentence.

One day, Matt came back to the room he shared with Riku and found his roommate cowering in a corner, pointing at the light fixture and making sounds of a concerned and fearful nature.

Matt: What’s wrong?
Riku (still babbling incoherently, stabs finger in direction of light fixture)
Matt (looks closely): Oh! You mean the insect flying around?
Riku: Yes! Yes! What is dis?
Matt: It can’t hurt you. It’s just a moth.
Riku: Moth?!
Matt: Yes, just a moth.
Riku (still jabbing finger at moth in fearful manner): HOW YOU SPELL DIS?

Expanding the Universe

I’m not gonna go into a long diatribe about how proper spelling lets us communicate better. There are enough essays and blogposts and master’s theses out there that cover the subject ad infinitum ad nauseam.

However, I do love Riku’s story and recount it here because it shows so clearly how we use language to define and comprehend the world around us. Giving something a name allows us to categorize it. Understanding a thing’s name lets us have a little extra measure of control (however illusory) of our environment. It makes our universe just a little bit bigger. Knowing a thing’s name and communicating it to another lets us establish a closer connection with that other person.

And, sometimes, this naming and communicating lets us remove the element of fear, which enables all of us to become more fully the people we were created to be.

Indeed: How do you spell dis?

But none of that fantabulous stuff happens when we don’t spell things in a way that gets the right message across. When Riku asked “how you spell dis,” Matt would’ve done his roommate a great disservice by giving him the wrong information. Imagine the confusion that would’ve ensued had Riku gone on to tell his friends that he’d had a close encounter with a terrible, flying “math.”

Spelling’s important, y’all. And by that, I mean “you all,” not a small, two-masted boat (aka “yawl”).

So, keeping said importance in mind, I shall now share with you five misspellings I’ve noted recently. Some of them aren’t misspellings per se but grammatical errors. But this is all part and parcel of clear communication, kids. So Ima mush it all together here. Because I want to. And this is my blog, so I can. Nyah.

; )

How do you spell…?

 
1. DEFINITELY

INCORRECT: definately, definatly, defiantly, definitly.

Correct:
DEFINITELY

2. LOSE and LOOSE

INCORRECT: I am going to loose my mind if you keep spelling this wrong.

“Lose” means “not keep” or “not win.”

“Loose” means “not tight” or “release.”

Correct:
I am going to LOSE my mind.
Maybe even if you start spelling it right. Only time will tell.

3. DRINK, DRANK, DRUNK

INCORRECT: He had drank too much the night before.

Correct:
He had DRUNK too much the night before.
Which was why he was drunken, if you want to know.

I drink. I drank. I had drunk. And don’t read more into this example than you have to, dears.

4. SPRING, SPRANG, SPRUNG

INCORRECT: Mount Olympus buzzed with gossip for a week because Zeus’s daughter, Athena, had sprang fully grown from his head.

Correct:
Athena had SPRUNG from Zeus’s head.
Olympus only knows why.

I spring. I sprang. I had sprung. Or, rather, Athena had sprung. I was born through more conventional processes.

5. A LOT

INCORRECT: Alot of people are afraid of moths.

Correct:
A LOT of people are afraid of moths.
As in, a certain quantity of people.

I don’t think Lot in the Bible was afraid of moths. But if he was, I’m sure a bunch of them burned up in Sodom and Gomorrah, and I’m sure the moth-fearing Lot was happy about that.

_________________
I had a close encounter with a terrible, flying math in high school. They spelled dis C-A-L-C-U-L-U-S. Riku’s fortitude was not mine. I lasted three weeks, then ran shrieking and never looked back.

/ Courtney / Creativity

10 Things I’d Rather Do Than Fight a Zombie Elf

10 Things I'd Rather Do Than Fight a Zombie Elf, in random order...

 

  

 This post is brought to you by the letter “Z” and was inspired by Consortium Books‘ upcoming short story e-zine, Consortium of Worlds, Vol. 1 (in which you can read my zombie elf short story “Dead Reconning”). 

  
 

10 Things I’d Rather Do Than Fight a Zombie Elf

In random order:

  1. Fight a living elf

  2. Make out with a non-sparkling vampire
    We all know how that would end, and it doesn’t involve vampiric vegetarianism.

  3. Take afternoon tea with Gothmog (“Elephant Man” orc in LoTR film The Return of the King)
    Talk about one lump or two. Have you seen that guy’s face?!

  4. Engage in a Worst Poetry Contest with a Vogon
    Internal hemorrhaging, anyone?

  5. Listen to Rebecca Black’s “Friday” until my ears bleed

  6. Work out to Richard Simmons’s Disco Sweat

  7. Play hide-and-seek with Darth Vader
    “The stupidity is strong with this one.”

  8. Clean the cats’ litterboxes

  9. Catch a dragon by the toe
    If he hollers, you’re dead. Because he breathes fire and all.

  10. Try to write a novel without any coffee

_________________

What about you? What would you rather do than fight an undead zombie elf?

Zombie Courtney created with “George A. Romero’s App of the Dead” app for iPhone.

/ Courtney

Be Honest — Was I Snoring?

 

Sweet inklings, I’ve found another bloggèd gem: Jennifer Brown’s post about owning our time and taking back the power we’ve given away. Jennifer talks about how we so often settle for “backseat driving” through life, instead of getting behind the wheel ourselves.

Instead of following our dreams, we content ourselves (however resentfully) with sitting back and watching others follow theirs.

We might tell the “dreamer,” “Hey! You’re not doing it right. You should be doing it this way.”

But actually do something about our own dreams?

Nah. Driving that car would be way too risky.

Jennifer’s post sparked the following comment from me:

Jennifer, I LOVE this metaphor! “Backseat dreaming” — I’d never thought of it that way, but it makes so much sense as a description of the mindset that keeps us from going after what we sincerely wish for!

I’m not sure I’ve been a backseat dreamer…but I have been a notorious passenger seat driver. Watching how the driver shifts gears, noting how early/late they brake, critiquing the use of turn signals.

Have I been a passenger seat dreamer?

I think so.

Not as much in recent years — but I know I’ve been guilty of watching others drive toward their dreams and, instead of driving toward my own, criticizing how others are doing it. I’m in the passenger seat: close enough to the action to seem like I’m a part of it, but not doing anything that would expose me to criticism.

No more! I’m getting vulnerable now, taking responsibility for my passions and following them.

It’s terrifying!

And liberating!

I wouldn’t have it any other way.

 

I Hope I Didn’t Snore

Finally, I am awake. I am following my dreams, pursuing my passions, and doing other hunter-stalker-like things in regard to what I’ve felt called to do my entire life.

Will I screw up? Sure. I’m likely to drive off the road a few times, because I am easily distractable, and I turn the steering wheel in whatever direction my eyes happen to go. (Yes, I’m one of those.)

But at least I have my hands on the wheel. I’m doing what I was created to do.

And I love this ride.
_____________________

So, dear reader.

Are you a backseat dreamer?

Are you more concerned with how others are pursuing their dreams than with pursuing your own?

Are you a passenger seat dreamer — close enough to seem like you’re in on the wild ride, but not actually making any choices that relate to your own passions?

What do you have to do to get in the driver’s seat?

/ Courtney / Creativity

Poetry Sucks, Beats, and Twists

As I’ve mentioned before, the time when I wasn’t noveling was one of the most depressing, despairing times I’ve ever gone through.

The good news is that the experience led to one of the most uplifting, life-changing conclusions I’ve ever reached:

If I want to feel content, if I want to be able to function like a human being, then I have to be writing stories.

I have to be writing novels.

It’s what I was created to do — and if I’m not doing it, I start falling apart.

But.

Poetry Is Like a Vacuum Cleaner

There is another side to this story. Over the last year, I’ve realized that the more I immerse myself in my novels, the more my poetry sucks.

When I was 12, I pulled a book off my mom’s shelf: How Does A Poem Mean? by John Ciardi. In his book, he talks some of the hows of turning emotion and experience into words. I didn’t understand all of it, but what I did understand made me sit down and start poetizing. I haven’t stopped since.

Poetry Is Like a Heartbeat

In an address at Brigham Young University in 1963, Ciardi also spoke these lines of pure beauty:

Poetry is not inherently moral or immoral. It is like a heartbeat. There is no moral or immoral heartbeat.

 

Poetry Is Like a Car Engine

My very best poetry has come out of my darkest days. When I’m at my most miserable, my poetry is at its most touching and most resonant.

So, in a way, it’s a trade-off: When I’m noveling, I feel good. When I feel good, I can’t write a lot of poetry. The stories and the poems come from two different places. Or maybe it’s the same place, but the Muse chooses different tools to hand me.

I tinker. I twist. I turn and twirl with my tools, and sometimes I even tintinnabulate. Sometimes, after my twistinnabulation (howzat for poetic?), things start running smoothly. By which I mean they’re gritty and fundamental and from-the-heart bloody.

That’s when my poetry is beautiful.
____________________________

Do you write poetry?

Do you want to write poetry, but you think you can’t?

Oh honey, please tell me you didn’t listen to someone who told you that you can’t. If that’s the case, we need to talk.

Writers of various genri*: Do you novel better than you poetize? Poetize better than you journal? Journal better than you prosate?

What makes the difference? Interest level? Emotional state? Mental condition?

The comments are yours, sweetlings. Let’s conversate. ; )
____________________________

*One genre, two genri, I always say.

/ Courtney / Inspiration

I Wrote This Because You Are Beautiful

I want to tell you that you're amazing. You have a tremendous amount of courage. You also have a raw passion hidden somewhere deep inside you...

Beauty and Wonder
I want to tell you something important.

Finding the right words won’t be easy. I always have trouble communicating what’s most important to me. But I’ll do my best.

I want to tell you that you’re amazing.

You’ve been through a lot. You’ve come through what the world would define as hell. And yet, you’re still here.

Not only are you still here, but you’ve gone beyond simple existence, and you’re living. You’re interweaving your life with others’. Do you realize how much courage that takes? It’s simple enough to do — but it would’ve been far simpler to retreat into mere existence and shun every opportunity of connection.

You have a tremendous amount of courage.

You also have a raw passion hidden somewhere deep inside you. Why have you hidden it? I can’t answer that. But the moment I asked the “why,” you felt at least the hint of an answer resonating in your spirit. I can’t answer your “why” — but you can.

You have this fiery energy built up inside of you, just waiting for you to release it. The prospect frightens you, because you already suspect just how much passionate energy is actually there. And you don’t know what it would do if you let it out.

But you, love, were created for passion. You were created with talent, imbued with skill, and gifted with every resource you need to channel and use that passionate energy. You were created to be something that no other person in this world is, has been, or ever will be.

You are talented. You are skilled. You are gifted.

You are beautiful.

You are valuable. You are worth every bit of talent, skill, and beauty that has been poured into you. You are worth taking risks for. You are worth sacrificing for.

You deserve not to stand in your own way.

You are worthy of eliminating the habits that are holding you back. I don’t know what those habits are — but when you read the phrase “habits that are holding you back,” something resonated in your spirit again. You know which of your habits are dampening your passion.

You deserve to ignore the people in your life who belittle you. You deserve to ignore the people in your life who refuse to encourage you. You deserve to ignore the people in your life who tell you — through their words, attitudes, or actions — that you can’t possibly achieve anything beyond the average. Or even the mediocre.

You deserve to treat yourself better than those people treat you. You deserve to treat yourself better than those people treat themselves.

You deserve to surround yourself with people who will not only support you, but also lift you up.

You deserve not to be subject to fear. And the wonderful news is that you aren’t subject to fear.

You do not have to let fear rule over you. You do not have to let fear rule you.

You don’t have to be afraid of what might happen if you released your pent-up passionate energy. You don’t have to be afraid of following the path upon which your natural talents lead you.

You don’t have to be afraid of saying no to the people who try to tear you down. You don’t have to be afraid of saying yes to the people who want to build you up.

You don’t have to be afraid.

Don’t be afraid.

You are beautiful, and you are possessed of tremendous courage.

You are beautiful, and you are possessed of tremendous courage.

You are beautiful, and you are possessed of tremendous courage.

You are worthy of honoring your gifts.

You are worthy of finding your purpose and following it with that pent-up, consuming passion.

You were created to pursue that passionate purpose with all the talents, gifts, and resources at your disposal.

You are meant for wonder.

Go out and do what only you were made to do.

Court Who?

Hidey-ho, readerinos. My name is Courtney Cantrell, and I make things.

BOOKS! STORIES! ART!

BANGERANG.

I even made a human. That’s pretty cool.

I’m into epic fantasy, paranormal, sci-fi, horror.
I do oils, acrylics, pencil, pen, multimedia. Still life, portraits, abstract.
I dance in the pouring rain whenever possible.
This is its own genre. ; )

And I hope I leave my corner of the world
a little brighter than I found it.

Here’s what else you can peruse at Courtcan.com:

  • creative writing and all its pitfalls and possibilities
  • updates on my works-in-progress
  • real-life anecdotes and illuminating a-ha!s
  • The iotization of the Greek diphthong.
  • Just kidding.
  • Maybe.
  • If you’re lucky.
  • 42

A few “stats”:

  • My pronouns are she/her.
  • I am the wife of Ed, often referred to as “the husband.”
  • I am the mama of a beautiful little girl known here as “CM,” “the/my kid,” or “[age]yo” (year-old).
  • I am the cat-mommy of Laddi (Galadriel) and Elli (Elanor).
  • By passport, I am an American; but I grew up in Germany, so culturally I’m a mutt (aka Third Culture Kid).
  • I don’t belong to a religion. I’m not sure I even belong to a belief system. I have beliefs? I have musings. I have wonderings and peculiarities of a variety people might call “spiritual.” As of this writing (02/2023), it’s all in  a state of uncomfortable transmogrification, and I am strangely comfortable with that.
  • I firmly believe that love is love is love, and I think it’s wonderful when one ghost-driven meat machine finds an/other ghost-driven meat machine(s) to be wildly passionate about and vulnerable with.
  • I believe every human has the right to food, shelter, bodily autonomy, and freedom of thought/religion/self-expression. I also believe no human has the right *not* to experience the natural consequences of their choices.
  • I believe that all human lives have equal worth, but that we have created a global society in which some have more worth than others. I believe that this is a species-wide error and that we will someday have to account for it. I hope we can transform out of it before it’s too late.
  • I believe that war is a symptom of desperate immaturity, the childish inability to sit with healthy conflict.
  • I believe that most of our global problems as a species stem from our inability to accept, dwell with, and embrace the mysterious unknown in the Other, as well as the unknown in ourselves.
  • I believe that knowledge is power; power corrupts; cheese corrupts; therefore, knowledge is cheese.
  • All of these statements are subject to rephrasing at my whim and without notice.

Let’s talk.

So. Enjoy your courtcan-ish reading (or viewing)! And please, do drop me a line to introduce yourself and let me know what you think of my ponderings:

In other news, here’s an old picture of me:

The Groovy 8-Year-Old Writer