Showing posts with label Jane Austen. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jane Austen. Show all posts

Friday, December 14, 2007

The Garden Implement

Hah hah, fooled you, I am too writing. This week I've been guest blogging for the Rake Magazine. So far I've only produced two entries, The Leo Chronicles, Part I and The Leo Chronicles, Part II, but I plan on at least two more posts before the week is over. Hell, with my busy schedule of coming up with excuses why I haven't gotten things done it's a wonder I was able to find the time to post those two.

The "garden implement" in the title refers to the Rake, of course. I shamelessy thought maybe I could snag a garden(-variety) blog googler by using it. Heh heh.

In other news, Sunday the 16th is Jane Austen's birthday. I love Jane Austen, or to be more precise, I love Jane Austen's novels. Mansfield Park is my favorite, probably because Vladimir Nabokov included an essay on it in his Lectures on Literature that I read along with the novel itself the first time. Good Lord, I sound quasi-literate. Don't let that fool you though, I ain't. But I do like Jane Austen. I'd totally do her.


Anyway, you'll see more here once I meet my guest blogging commitment for the Garden Implement. And apropos of that, the voluptuous yet matronly editor of the Rake Online confided to me that she wants to create a column entitled "The Hoe." You can contact her yourself and tell her what a good idea that is no matter who writes it. Some nascent ideas just intrinsically cry out to be born and that's one of them, just for the title alone.

And finally, speaking of 'nascent,' I looked up the word just now to make sure it meant precisely what I wanted it to mean and found it defined as "emerging." So an idea that's still in the womb waiting to be born may or may not be "nascent," depending on if you believe that ideas exist per se prior to their actual birth. I'm pro-nascent, myself, but I respect other people's opinions, especially if they have big tits.

I'm also prognathic. My gnathic index is 104. If I was a nice guy, I'd include a link on that, but we all know I'm not a nice guy. Just ask the garden blog googlers.

Whew. This writing stuff is hard work.

- Hulles