I try to keep the above advice in mind when I write, and very often it's exercising that first-line muscle that generates a story for me.
So, let's practice.
Here's one: Though Harold was tan and lean, he had the eyes of a fat man.
Hmmm. Okay, let's try another: Basic laws of physics predicted Jimmy's imminent demise, but Jimmy had never studied law.
Ugh. Cliché. Sounds like Roadrunner and the Coyote.
One more: The calculator tape was too short to fall backwards under it's own weight and curled directly in front of the display. I hated that.
Ummm, okay. The adventures of your local neighborhood CPA, I guess.
So, no Hugo Award winners tonight. Maybe tomorrow.

They all have one thing in common. They claim that the runes carry intrinsic magic; that they are in and of themselves magical things. I find this thinking ridiculous. Runes are representations of vocalized sound, nothing more. They are no more special than any other alphabet, including our own.
Consider the archeological evidence of "rune magic", consisting primarily of brief phrases etched into physical objects, intended to endow these objects with kick-ass power. Most of them say something like "Frank made this sword therefore it will rip you a new one". Now, I do happen to believe that stating something as an absolute truth can help to make it true, as all good propagandists know.
The magic is not in the letters - it's in the claim. Runes have captured the imagination of the world, jump-started primarily by Tolkein. I understand the need of the Norse heathen to feel special, but what they really need to concentrate on is the idea (built directly into the faith via the Havamal) that no religion is more special than any other.
Now get off my lawn.
No comments:
Post a Comment