lördag 29 december 2012
fredag 28 december 2012
torsdag 27 december 2012
onsdag 26 december 2012
söndag 23 december 2012
lördag 22 december 2012
torsdag 20 december 2012
tisdag 11 december 2012
måndag 10 december 2012
söndag 9 december 2012
The lamp is burnin' low upon my table top
The snow is softly falling
The air is still in the silence of my room
I hear your voice softly calling
If I could only have you near
To breathe a sigh or two
I would be happy just to hold the hands I love
On this winter night with you
The smoke is rising in the shadows overhead
My glass is almost empty
I read again between the lines upon each page
The words of love you sent me
If I could know within my heart
That you were lonely too
I would be happy just to hold the hands I love
On this winter night with you
The fire is dying now, my lamp is growing dim
The shades of night are lifting
The morning light steals across my window pane
Where webs of snow are drifting
If I could only have you near
To breathe a sigh or two
I would be happy just to hold the hands I love
On this winter night with you
And to be once again with you
Just like birds of a feather
We too have followed the golden sun
It feels so good,
Knowin' the watchman's gone
If I give you a rose, buddy
Would you please bury it in the fields?
I seen a rose
Watchin' it all fold out
There's a train down at the station
It's come to carry my bones away
Two engines on
Twenty-one coaches long
End to end
Twenty-one coaches bend
The watchman's out
Kickin' the bums about
If I wait for the right moment
You can bet I'll climb aboard unseen
I've done it before
I know I can do it in my sleep
The watchman's out
Kickin'the bums about
The watchman's out
Kickin' your dreams about
As I leave you in the sunset
Got one more nothin' I'd like to say
"You don't know me
A son of the sea am I"
As I say to you, my brother
If you live to follow the golden sun
You better beware
Knowin' the watchman's always there
If you find me feedin' daisies
Please turn my face up to the sky
And leave me be
Watchin' the moon roll by
Whatever I was
You know it was all because
I've been on the town
Washin' the bullshit down
The watchman's out
Kickin' your dreams about
It feels so good
Knowin' the watchman's gone
It's like a song
Knowin' the watchman's gone.
lördag 8 december 2012
fredag 7 december 2012
I would be much pleased to see some heroic, shrewd, fully-informed, healthy-bodied, middle-aged, beard-facedAmerican blacksmith or boatman come down from the West across the Alleghanies, and walk into the Presidency, dressed in a clean suit of working attire, and with the tan all over his face, breast, and arms; I would certainly vote for that sort of man, possessing the due requirements, before any other candidate.
torsdag 6 december 2012
måndag 3 december 2012
söndag 2 december 2012
Citat
The Art and Craft of Story Architecture
Story structure is the sequence of your scenes that result in a story well told.
Story architecture is the empowerment of those scenes through compelling characterizations, powerful thematic intentions, a fresh and intriguing conceptual engine and a writing voice brings it all to life with personality and energy.
Structure is craft. It can be studied, learned, practiced and implemented. It is not talent-dependent (talent being a relative and elusive term), it is effort-dependent andknowledge-dependent.
Architecture is art. It, too, can be studied, learned, emulated and implemented. It istalent-dependent, with the acknowledgement that talent itself can be cultivated and evolved through learning and practice.
Not every writer is born to be John Updike. But every writer can bring architecture to their story, provided they open themselves to it. Provided they don’t ascribe to thethere-are-no-rules school of writing and immerse themselves in the proven truths that successful writers validate on every shelf in every bookstore you’ve ever been in.
Story architecture, in this sense, is what separates a story from the crowd. It is the differentiator between non-published and published writing.
Gravity sucks. Always has, always will. And that’s not a bad thing.
Especially when you think of it this way: gravity is what empowers us to dance.
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