Thankful for The A-Muse-ments

When I had a birthday not too long ago, my WWWPs (Wild Women Wielding Pens) had my back. Literally—they had made my backside in effigy. Except this one is considerably more skinny and uplifted than the real thing. Even the legs might be a tad less lumpy. I have it propped up near my desk where it alternately entertains, motivates, and startles me (due to its resemblance to a small torso).

It even has the cutest little accordion-bundle of words coming out. But flattering though it is, the A**-Muse—A-Muse for short—is a lie.

This whole thing came from a few times when I went to the critique group with something I’d pulled out of a file of old stuff, and Sioux mistakenly thought I’d just written it that day. Sad to say I’m really a slow and plodding writer, who stashes everything having to do with my love of words into computer files. The Computer Guy tactfully refers to it as my “uh…files, and…stuff” because it’s the virtual equivalent of a Hoarders episode.

What I really do is dump large, steaming piles of stinky stuff into that compost heap of files and then give it a stir from time to time with the fervent hope that, given long enough, something will someday actually grow from it.

So one of things I am really thankful for this year is the WWWPs, who are the ones who ironically have wit and wisdom and heart and soul and humor and beauty spewing out of them in abundance. Beth sits down and daintily deposits nearly flawless final drafts on her lunch hour. Linda drops heaping loads of warm, clever published work everywhere. Lynn squirts out almost finished NaNo novels that have us all spellbound (then acts like it’s no big deal). And Sioux releases the written equivalent of a soul-purging frolic on a page…and even shares pictures of (oh la la!) hunky Frenchmen aussi.

Ladies, your tales are the inspirational ones.

Happy Thanksgiving to all.

Thankfulness does wonders for the soul. ~Hal Urban

Improper Poll: Travels with Guillaume

In all fairness, I was still a child when it first came out. I thought “getting it on” was like getting on with it—running along, moving on. So when that T. Rex song came out, I thought the refrain was, “Get it on, vagabond Guillaume.”

I had no idea who this Guillaume was, but I always wanted to picture hippies wandering around France. Even then I knew Guillaume was a boy’s name, but everyone knew those hippies were weird and gave their children monikers such as “Rainbow Fescue” and “Sunshine Albatross Beef Jerky.”

Lately there’s been a television commercial that uses a few lines from that song, which causes it to get stuck in my head, forcing me to dance around a bit and—horrors—sing. This is bad enough when I actually know the words, but this time I got to wondering if it really was Guillaume getting on with things.

So although my computer is still ailing, I managed to squeeze in some valuable research to find out what the heck those words really are. It was like that time I realized Madonna was singing, “Last night I dreamt of San Pedro,” and not “Last night I dreamt of some bagels.” I’m glad no one ever plays 80s music, because I bet that one would still make me hungry.

So here we are: the real lyrics.

I might just keep singing about Guillaume the vagabond. And P.S.: Have you ever been a wee bit confused about song lyrics?

Well you're dirty and sweet, clad in black don't look back and I love you
You're dirty and sweet, oh yeah
Well you're slim and you're weak, you've got the teeth of the hydra upon you
You're dirty sweet and you're my girl
Get it on, bang a gong, get it on
Get it on, bang a gong, get it on

Well you're built like a car, you've got a hub cap diamond star halo
You're built like a car, oh yeah
Well you're an untamed youth, that's the truth with your cloak full of eagles
You're dirty sweet and you're my girl
Get it on, bang a gong, get it on
Get it on, bang a gong, get it on

Well you're windy and wild, you've got the blues in your shoes and your stockings
You're windy and wild, oh yeah
Well you're built like a car, you've got a hub cap diamond star halo
You're dirty sweet and you're my girl
Get it on, bang a gong, get it on
Get it on, bang a gong, get it on

Well you're dirty and sweet, clad in black, don't look back and I love you
You're dirty and sweet, oh yeah
Well you dance when you walk, so let's dance, take a chance, understand me
You're dirty sweet and you're my girl
Get it on, bang a gong, get it on
Get it on, bang a gong, get it on

Get it on, bang a gong, get it on get it on....

Improper Poll: 10 New NaNoWriMo Terms

I’ve never participated before in National Novel Writers’ Month, or NaNoWriMo. This year I had better intentions—I really did—but it’s already clear I’m not going to make it. This is a shame, because the WWWPs had a logo and everything (see above).

Still, NaNo is such a wonderful exercise for writers, I’d like to try to do something. So while sitting around with writer’s block, I came up with:

10 New NaNoWriMo Terms and Their Definitions: 

1. Not getting your novel started, after all: Na NoGo 
2. Participating in NaNo in a very small way: Nano NaNo 
3. NaNo rule-breaking: NaNo No-no 
4. A NaNo novel about Mork from Ork: Nanoo Nanoo NaNo 
5. Having your word count come up short at the end of the month: NaNoWriTooSlo 
6. Going over your word count at the end of the month: NaNoWriWayMo 
7. Grown woman who sits around writing silly NaNo words instead of writing novels: NaNoDohdoh
8. Snack for late-night novel writing: NaNoHoHo 
9. Failure to make that daily word limit no matter what you do: NaNoWriNoMo 
10. A NaNo book designed to be a guide for prostitutes: NaNoWriMoFoHos 

How about you? Are you a NaNo…or a NaYes? And if you’ve done it in the past, do you have any tips for the rest of us?