I had an epiphany the other day. It seems that every time I sit down to write something, I freeze in front of my computer, hands poised on the keys. I stare at the screen, searching for just the right words, just the right tone. Beginnings of sentences play though my head, and all those great language ideas I had while lying in bed or standing in the shower or driving to work seem to vanish. Vanish, actually, is the wrong word. They’re still there, but they hide like playful children. I can hear them giggling, and I know they’re there, but I cannot see them.

So the proverbial light bulb that came on over my head was that the words don’t have to be perfect when I first write them down. One of the beauties of writing is that unlike, say, brain surgery, you can go back over what you’ve done to get it right. In other words, your first swipe at it can be just a draft, a sketch with language. After getting the whole thought down, you then can start at the beginning, reshaping the words, filling the gaps.

Imagine if Leonardo da Vinci (also known in our house as Leonardo da Fishy thanks to The Muppet Show), working from the upper left hand corner, decided each brush stroke should be perfect and that he should not have to go back over any section he’s worked on. After a couple of hours, the Mona Lisa may have looked something like this:

In case you don’t recognize it, that’s the upper left corner of the Mona Lisa. Of course, he wouldn’t have painted the cracks and lines–those come with age. But you get the idea: the rest of the canvas would have been blank.

No, I’m guessing that da Vinci started by sketching a big oval for the face, then sketched in the eyes and lips, drew in the crossed hands, etc. In other words, rather than trying to create perfection from the very first brush stroke, he began with a draft and slowly refined it until it was perfect. As I hear tell, this da Vinci guy was pretty smart. Maybe he was on to something there.

Writing should be the same. Rather than attempting perfection from the first key stroke, writers (writers of any kind) should get the concepts down quickly and then go back over the words to refine the language. (In my case, this means stepping away from it for a while and returning later. Also, I tend to edit by reading out loud to see how the words sound.) When done this way, writing goes much faster.

I’m certain this is not news to some of you. I’m a perfectionist, however, and the concept of throwing words at the page and then going back to rearrange them simply had not dawned on me.

Shortly after I started this blog, I discovered BlogRush, a new product that purportedly helps send traffic to your blog. I must say, I have been very unimpressed so far. I am not issuing a verdict at this time, as they still may be able to pull it together, but so far … not so great.

The concept of BlogRush is that you create an account, select a category, and then put this Blogosphere widget on your site (look over on the right, below the Google ads). I selected Writing and Literature as my category, even though I easily could have selected any of several others. Your Blogosphere widget then will show links to five other blog entries from your category. The number of times you get to appear on other people’s Blogosphere widgets is based on a complex Syndication Credit formula, which itself appears to be based largely on your own site traffic. (How they make any money off all this is beyond me. I assume they’re hoping to corner a specific market so that Google will buy them.)

BlogRush, in theory, has this cool dashboard that shows you your information. So far, it’s never worked. Based on the emails I’ve received from founder John Reese, they encountered several problems after the launch, many caused by people trying to cheat the system. Imagine that–people trying to cheat the system. Who woulda thunk.

Mr. Reese has sent out a number of lengthy rambling emails discussing the issues they’ve had. Some of these emails have been rather … well, odd. The most recent one was a 2,484 word, 95 paragraph email that featured lots of emphatic asterisks, words and phrases in all-caps, and a nice peppering of exclamation points (or, as they say in England, exclamation marks). The email included passages like this:

So for all you cheaters that joined BlogRush and had your fun trying to siphon off some traffic, hopefully it was fun. And I’ll go ahead and make this statement right now… IF you were one of the people that has been cheating our network I’m going to give you ONE opportunity… quit now and we’ll pretend it never happened. I think that’s more than fair.

BUT… if you continue after this point, all bets are off. We WILL eventually discover what you’re doing, where you’re trying to send traffic, and we will prosecute you. I GUARANTEE IT. Sorry, but WE HAVE NO CHOICE NOW.

* If you’re one of our valued, HONEST users, I’m very sorry you even have to read stuff like that. I know it’s a waste of your time. Unfortunately, there are unethical people in this world that attempt to abuse and take advantage of others.

Kind of weird, huh? This appeared near the bottom of Page 3 of 6 if you pasted the email into MS Word. The email ends with this:

I’ll be in touch when I have more “news” to share. Thanks for reading this long letter. I had a lot to tell you about. :-)

(There’s that sideways smiley face again.)

To be honest, the whole letter was a waste of my time, although it did introduce me to BlogRush “flavors,” which means I can have that widget on the right over there show up in a variety of bright, cheery colors. (There are thirteen “flavors,” including Licorice–which is what I’m using–grape, chocolate, watermelon, and the always tasty aqua.)

There are other oddities as well. Along the bottom of the BlogRush Web site are some handy links to FAQs, terms, privacy, contact, help, etc. Once you log in, however, you automatically are redirected to your under-construction dashboard. Even if you try to get back to the home page, you can’t while you’re logged in. And the dashboard does not include these links. There is a help tab that has some of the information (on a page that currently has several broken images), but not all. So, the only way to get to the privacy statement or terms or the video on the home page is to sign out. Also, the Blogosphere widget on my site occasionally links me to sites that don’t include the Blogosphere widget on theirs. Maybe those are some of those cheaters we were warned about.

Like I said, I’m not giving up on this product yet, but I’m very close.

A few days ago, I wrote about the pronunciation of ough. Since then, I’ve heard from a few experts on this issue. Sarah Ough from England said her family “pronounces Ough as just the letter O,” adding that “[o]ther families pronounce it other ways.”

Sarah is correct, as I found out from Tami Ough from Oregon, who said, “We pronounce our name ‘Ow….. like Ow that hurts!’” Tami said she hears “every mispronunciation of my name possible…….:).” (See my September 18 post on the use of sideways facial expressions.) This may be an Oregon thing, however, as Jeremy Ough–who I believe is from Oregon–said they also pronounce it “like an expression of pain.”

I also was reminded that, although we have turned plough into plow, you still can get a ploughman’s lunch in many fine restaurants. Further, it is fairly common during The Holidays to deck one’s halls with boughs of holly.

Finally–and we’ll leave it here–I came across this poem by Bennett Cerf, publisher and co-founder of Random House.

The wind was rough
And cold and blough;
She kept her hands inside her mough.

It chilled her through,
Her nose turned blough,
And still the squall the faster flough.

And yet although
There was no snough,
The weather was a cruel fough.

It made her cough,
(Please do not scough);
She coughed until her hat blew ough.

Recently I was coming back from a trip to the U.K. and had a little time to kill in Heathrow. So, naturally, I stopped by the World of Whiskey. It was about 10:00 in the morning and time for a little taste-testing.

For some years now, 16-year-old Lagavulin has been a steady friend. On cold, winter nights, there is nothing like its rich, smokey flavors to warm the insides. It’s the internal equivalent of lamb’s wool slippers or an old, worn, woollen blanket. There are other scotches, but this one has embracing familiarity.

So, at Heathrow I was eager to try the 1990 Distiller’s Edition. Once I did, I purchased a bottle immediately, price be damned. Now I wish I had purchased two.

This is a truly special single-malt scotch whiskey. Its color is a beautiful coppery bronze, and its round, full, smokey flavors are deeply satisfying. It’s a whiskey that makes you want to put your feet up.

At the time I made the purchase, the sales clerk said it could not be obtained in the United States. I am inclined to believe this is mostly true, although I did find it for sale on eBay for $149 per bottle–significantly more than I paid. I also understand the 1991 Distiller’s Edition now can be purchased from some high-end wine and liquor stores in the U.S.

Keep your eye out for this whiskey. If you see it, buy it. My birthday is in May.

I don’t know if you were paying attention, but my dream from September 21st turned out to be only a bad dream, as the Red Sox won the American League East last night.  This actually is really good news, as it suggests the other elements of my dream also are not likely to happen.  At least, that’s what I now have decided to believe. 

The Chicago Cubs also won their division last night, returning to the post-season for the first time since 2003.  We should have had a Red Sox - Cubs World Series back in 2003, but both teams collapsed in a heap just when the pennant for their respective leagues was all but theirs.   Could this be the year?  I wonder if Steve Bartman will be attending any of the Cubs’ playoff games this time around.

Droplets splashing, faces
        laughing.
Merriment. Merriment.
        Joy.
Times were good. Times were
        oh so good.
Exulting present pleasures.
Yesteryear remembered.

– Tim Brooks

One of the things I like about the French language is that, if you know the basic rules of pronunciation, you can read aloud anything, even if you don’t have the slightest clue what you’re saying. (I did this in Quebec once, when I was pulled from the audience to participate in an outdoor play by reading a town crier announcement at the top of my lungs. The mostly French-speaking audience knew exactly what I was saying, even though I had no idea.) You see a word like fromage or chapeau or regarder, and you know precisely how it should be pronounced. I took this language from the United Nations Web site:

Pour engager le XXIe siècle sous de bons auspices, les États Membres des Nations Unies sont convenus de huit objectifs essentiels à atteindre d’ici à 2015.

Even if you cannot translate it, anyone who has taken enough French to know how each of these letters is supposed to sound and what the accents mean can read this out loud.

Now let’s look at our own language. Four of my favorite words to compare are:

• tough (ˈtəf)
• though (ˈthō)
• through (’thrü)
• thought (ˈthȯt)

You add or change one letter each time, and the ough dramatically changes the way it is pronounced. Very simply, there’s no logic to it whatsoever–that’s just the way it is.

How are young spellers supposed to learn that although tough and rough rhyme, cough and dough look like they should but are not even close? And if the ough in tough, rough, and cough is pronounced with an -f sound at the end (never mind that the ou sounds entirely different in cough), why is it that we doff our caps instead of doughing them?

Fortunately, in the United States we have turned plough into plow. And we’ve pretty much abandoned hiccough, in which the gh, as one logically would expect, makes a -p sound.

Earlier today, I came across the Family Genealogy Forum for the Ough family, who undoubtedly are experts on this issue. Perhaps someone from the Ough family could shed some light on the true pronunciation of ough.

But enough.

First of all, Alison King did a fantastic job in last night’s debate of Democratic presidential hopefuls. Very nice work, Alison. You can ask my question next time.

That said, I learned quite a bit about these eight candidates.

• Clinton is playing it safe and protecting her lead—her response about the Yankees-Cubs World Series said it all. Still, she came across as highly confident and knowledgeable, and I liked her response when Russert suggested Bill Clinton would have answered a question differently. “Well he’s not the one standing up here, is he.”
• Obama sounded naive on foreign policy. I know he is trying to say his lack of experience is an asset, but I just don’t see that as being the case. At this point in his career, he probably would make an excellent Vice President.
• Edwards said “I was the first [blah] [blah] [blah]” about 600 times and came across salesy—me, me, me. In response to each question, he spoke not about policies but about himself.
• Dodd impressed me—I had not expected that. I’d like to hear more from him.
• Gravel is a huge distraction and needs to get out of the race, like, now.
• Kucinich, as much as I like some of what he says, also should bow out—he’s adding nothing and last night came across as self-aggrandizing.
• Biden I once liked; now he just seems bitter and brusque.
• Richardson I once thought I liked.  He has vast experience in the foreign policy arena, but he was able to demonstrate none of that experience last night.  He, too, should bow out.

Perhaps early primaries are not such a bad thing, as they could weed out some of the excess. Fewer people up there would make for a better debate, as we could get longer answers and challenge people to be more specific.

I was very disappointed that none of the eight candidates challenged the appropriateness of Russet’s question about the Bible. (”What is your favorite passage from the Bible?”) Maybe all of them are church-goers, I don’t know, but the question brought Christianity (and only Christianity) into a debate where it did not belong. Moreover, the question and its answers were meaningless. It’s possible that Russert was looking for a challenge and did not get it. I would have been impressed if one of them had said, “Tim, it is inappropriate to bring religion and religious texts into this forum. If you would like to ask me about my favorite clause in the United States Constitution, I would be happy to answer it.”

A good friend of mine by the name of Alison King has been given the honor of co-hosting the Democratic presidential debate this evening along with Tim Russert. Alison is the political correspondent for NECN, and those of us who graduated from Colgate University with her and consider her a close friend are continuously thrilled (although not surprised, of course) by her success in journalism.

While preparing for the debate, Alison recently asked a group of us for question ideas. As I said to Alison, last year I was listening to a call-in debate between two Maine Republican gubernatorial candidates. A caller said, “I am looking for a very conservative governor. Could each of you please tell me why you are more likely than your opponent to appeal to my conservative values?” After they had answered the question—each trying to outdo the other on how right wing he was and, essentially, boxing himself into a very tight conservative corner—a second caller said, “I’m a Democrat looking for an alternative to the incumbent Democratic governor. Now that you’ve both gone to the effort of explaining how terribly conservative you are, can you give me a reason why a moderate voter—Democrat or Republican—would vote for you?”

I thought it was brilliant. How do you answer this absolutely crucial question without alienating the previous caller and similarly conservative voters? Here in Maine a Republican candidate must appeal to a large number of Democratic voters to stand any chance of winning. Neither did a good job with the question, however, both essentially saying that their positions should appeal to everyone.

Candidates frequently are preaching to the proverbial choir, usually because it’s that choir–and only that choir–that is listening. Democratic candidates are saying what they think Democrats want to hear. Republicans are saying what they believe Republicans want to hear. However, to win the general election, a candidate from either party must be able to attract votes from the other party.

What I proposed to Alison, therefore, was something along these lines:

There is an enormous number of moderate to conservative Republicans in this country who are deeply dissatisfied with the current administration’s social and economic policies. These people are seeking an alternative to the Bush administration’s agenda, but they are not interested in what they perceive to be liberal social and economic policies. Still, to get elected, you will need many Americans to cross party lines. If you were the Democratic presidential nominee, therefore, how would you win the support of these voters?

In other words, the Democrats are likely to be up there trying to outdo each other on how “Democrat” they are. But winning the general election will require votes from people who voted for George Bush in both of the last two presidential elections. I’d like to hear how they’re going to attract those voters. Because if they can’t, they can’t win.

I hope Alison asks my question.

Columbia University invited Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad to speak on its campus yesterday. Lee Bollinger, the President of Columbia, took severe criticism for extending the invitation. Personally, although I support President Bollinger’s decision, I was disappointed to hear him introduce Ahmadinejad with direct, personal attacks.

President Bollinger said in his introduction:

Mr. President, you exhibit all the signs of a petty and cruel dictator. You are either brazenly provocative or astonishingly uneducated.

These lines were not necessary during the introduction, even if true. Challenge Ahmadinejad, point out his country’s record on sponsoring terrorism, accuse Iran of being a root cause of the continued chaos in Iraq, say what you want about the country’s treatment of homosexuals, demand clarification on their position toward Israel (i.e., whether they want to “wipe them off the map”), but the personal attacks–even if deserved–were a step too far during an introduction.

It is possible that President Bollinger was attempting to respond to the criticism that inviting Ahmadinejad to speak at Columbia–a highly prestigious university–somehow legitimized the man. Perhaps, but if that is your concern, don’t invite him at all.

Do not get me wrong: Ahmadinejad does indeed show all the signs of a petty and cruel dictator who, in all likelihood, is both brazenly provocative and astonishingly uneducated. Many of his comments during his speech (that, for example, Jews live peacefully in Iran and that the country has no homosexuals) were flat out lies. Still, as much as I protest the man and his country, I do not protest Columbia’s invitation to Ahmadinejad to speak. I only wish President Bollinger had shown the unearned respect and courtesy not to cast personal insults during the introduction.