I took my medical boards on Monday. I spent six hours in a cubicle staring at a computer screen, reading vignettes about patients and then choosing the right (I hope) answer.
In the eyes of the American Board of Internal Medicine, nothing was open to interpretation. It all boiled down to 180 multiple choice questions determining my worth as a physician.
When all else failed, I picked “C”.
Some claim writing is just like that multiple choice test. They say for all things literary, there's one--and only one--correct answer. These writing pedagogues say there’s one way to do a plot arc. One type of successful protagonist. One acceptable villain. One appropriate setting. Every story has been told before, so just play it safe and escape the big red check mark. Your worth as a writer depends on picking the right answer and following the right formula.
But what happens when both “A” and “C” make sense?
The formula may provide the story a backbone, but the author’s interpretation is what makes it run, jump, and fly. It's the unique twist that makes an old plot into a new story.
Formulas are for textbooks. Writing is for those who approach life without all the right answers.
Here are just a few questions that are open for interpretation:
1. Your protagonist is stranded on a deserted island with two attractive colleagues, Vlad and Joe. Upon learning that Vlad is a vampire, does she:
A. Fall for Joe, who has a solid job, IRA, and is emotionally mature
B. Fall for Vlad, who is dead, hogs the sunscreen, and has a thing for 17-year old girls
C. Cut herself on a palm frond, causing Vlad to go chupacabra on her jugular
D. Make a coconut neck guard using a tampon and a bobby pin
E. Call the elite Navy Seal team she secretly works for to pick them up in the invisible jet
2. Your main character has just walked in on her husband and her best friend in flagrante delicto. Does she:
A. Throw a vase at her husband, pull off her wedding ring, and cry
B. Say something disparaging about fake breasts, then set fire to the house
C. Shift into a were-tiger, and eat them both
D. Become a vigilante private investigator with a penchant for donuts
E. Join in
3. You are 168 pages into your epic fantasy novel. Your villain has finally captured the protagonist at a moment of weakness. Does he:
A. Kill him
B. Pontificate on the reasons he is evil, and then go get a latte, giving the protagonist time to escape
C. Give the job of killing the protagonist to his two inept sidekicks because LOTR is coming on cable later
D. Challenge him to a winner-take-all game of Boggle
E. Remind the protagonist of his special secret warrior escape power that only works if he truly believes in magic and unicorns
4. Your main character, a cynical detective with a chip on his shoulder, is driving to work. He is:
A. Drunk on tequila at 9 a.m.
B. Thinking about a prostitute he used to know
C. Contemplating his volatile relationship with his father while arching one brow and listening to Phil Collins
D. Petting a three legged dog named Mutt found down at the docks
E. About to stumble across a murder scene involving a dwarf and a former Dominatrix
Happy Wednesday!! And if you're in the mood for an excellent example of the power of interpretation, check out what these guys did with a Guns N' Roses song.
LYRIC O’ THE DAY: If man is five, if man is five, if man is five then the devil is six, then the devil is six, then the devil is six and if the devil is six then god is seven.
--This Monkey's Gone to Heaven, The Pixies
I am so grateful to all of the people I have met in the short time I have been blogging. I truly have never been associated with a more supportive group, and the fact that some of you have taken the time to consider me worthy for these lovely awards just makes me all kinds of warm and fuzzy inside!
As part of the awards, I am challenged to give the blogosphere seven tidbits about life as I know it. As I thought about this, I found myself thinking, why seven? What is the writerly significance of that number anyway?
Religious texts are full of sevens, as is mythology. There’s seven days of creation, corresponding to our days of the week. There are seven Archangels and seven Princes of Hell. Seven years of feast--and seven years of famine. Seven chakras. Seven deadly sins--and seven virtues. The Menorah has seven branches. The Irish mythologic hero Cuchulainn is associated with sevens (boyfriend had seven fingers and seven toes. Finding shoes was a bitch). Eastern Europeans believe seventh sons of seventh sons are capable of anything from clairvoyance to vampirism.
Historically there were Seven Wonders of the Ancient World and seven emperors of Rome. In medicine, we have seven cervical vertebrae (them's the neck bones. Mmm, crunchy). In music, there are seven notes on the major scale. There are seven continents. Seven colors in a rainbow. Seven celestial bodies can be seen from earth with the naked eye.
Pop culture is filled with sevens as well. Snow White has her Seven Dwarves. There are Seven Brides for Seven Brothers. Who can forget 007? And the Seven Year Itch? And if that’s not enough, read all about The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People. If you need a pick-me-up, go to the 7-11 and buy a 7-up. The list just keeps going.
Obviously, this prime number inspires and enlightens. So here goes my homage to seven:
The Seven Things I Need to Get in the Mood
1. A quiet house with the munchkins barricaded in their rooms tucked securely in their own beds.
2. A long hot shower followed by copious amounts of lotions and potions so I smell like a vanilla cookie, preserved for all eternity.
3. The soft strains of the Last of the Mohicans soundtrack playing on the stereo (and the mental image of Daniel Day Lewis in a loin cloth in the back of my mind).
4. Enough candles to make my freshly exfoliated skin look luminescent, but not so many that if I fall asleep the house will burn down.
5. No bra. Sometimes no undies, depends on where I’m at with the laundry week cycle.
6. A soft, malleable pillow for butt support.
7. A big glass of red wine.
Harry Potter said seven was the most powerful magical number, and I completely agree. After my ritual of sevens, this is where the magic happens.
Don't tell me you were imagining something more on the Sealy Posturepedic side?
When the ritual of seven is complete, I’m in the mood to WRITE, of course!
On another happy note, I am participating in the Pay It Forward Blogfest today, set up by Matthew MacNish at The Quintessentially Questionable Query Experiment with some help from Alex J. Cavanaugh.The idea was to name three blogs that you think are swell and get them out there for others to appreciate, too. I chose three that make me laugh, because that's the only way I get through the day sometimes.
I watched This Is Spinal Tap a few nights ago, which gave me the idea for this Sunday’s Mythbusters. If you are not familiar with the Rob Reiner mockumentary, there’s a scene based on the true story of Black Sabbath (sans Ozzy Osbourne) using a set inspired by Stonehenge. There were some issues with the measurements, and a parody of microlithic proportion was born. Go to 2:12 to see what I mean.
Stonehenge is a prehistoric monument found in Southern England about 90 miles west of London on the Salisbury plain. The site was used for ritual as early as 7000 B.C., although construction of Stonehenge as we know it did not start until around 3100 B.C. It has been proposed that the axis of the monument is based around the midsummer solstice sunrise, although recently others have suggested the opposite.
Stonehenge today.
Aerial view showing the surrounding embankment and ditch.
There are believed to be three distinct phases of build. The first detectable part created was an outer circular band of embankments and ditches, with an inner circle of 56 holes, named Aubrey holes for the man who described them. During the second phase, these holes were partially filled with timber, and new holes created. Some speculate that a temple of wood stood on the site during this period. The third phase, which lasted until 1500 B.C., involved the erection of stones on the site.
Phase One
Stonehenge is made from three types of rock--Welsh Cosheston sandstone, a hard sandstone with silaceous cement referred to as Sarsen stone, and Bluestone. The outer circle consisted of 30 Sarsen stones (only 17 still stand), joined across their tops by what are called lintel stones. An inner horseshoe of trilithons (pairs of stones with a single lintel) was also created from Sarsen stones. The largest of these was 25 feet high, with another 8 feet below ground.
Trilithon stone at Stonehenge.
Stonehenge at completion.
The two Bluestone circles within the sarsen formations elicit the most controversy. Bluestone is traced to the Preseli mountains in southwest Wales. The distance to Preseli is 200 miles and involves waterways and rough terrain. Although people have used techniques of ropes and pulleys and log rolling to move similar stones (i.e. like the pyramids), a journey of that proportion seems impossible--especially over water. In addition, no evidence has been found in the mountains of significant quarrying. A team of Stonehenge enthusiasts tried to recreate the journey, but they lost their bluestone at the bottom of one of the waterways. A more recent theory claims that glaciation--not human effort--is the reason such stones were found in the area. Still, there is no definite explanation for how the builders of this monument moved the stones on site--especially when the stones of the trilithons weighed up to 50 tons a piece, and the smallest stones are at least four tons. Some suggest that the extra boulders and stones that have been found at the site were used as devices to move and pivot stones into position.
Schematic on how to place a 50 ton stone.
There are a few special stones that are part of Stonehenge lore. The Heel stone (aka Friar’s stone or Sun stone) stands outside the main circle and is made from sarsen stone. It is connected to the summer solstice and creates a frame for the sun when it rises. The Altar stone is the central megalith and is the only stone made from a type of mica-filled sandstone. The Slaughter stone, a stone with a reddish stain due to iron oxidation, was named when Stonehenge was still thought to be a place of ritual virgin sacrifice. It is now felt to represent part of the main entrance to Stonehenge.
Looking at Stonehenge from the Heel Stone, the Slaughter stone is in the foreground.
There is quite a bit of romance surrounding who actually built Stonehenge. Celtic folklore links Stonehenge to Giants, which they thought were the progeny of fallen angels. During one raging party, the Giants danced in a circle holding hands. The noise alerted the heavens of their existence, and they were frozen into a stone circle for eternity. Major party foul.
The Devil also has been blamed for the creation of Stonehenge. In Irish folklore, the Devil swindled an old Irish woman out of the stones, and then repositioned them on the Salisbury Plain. He taunted the local villagers to give him the correct count of the stones, or face misery. After the villagers had all guessed too few, a monk faced the Devil and gave his answer, which was simply “more than be counted.” This enraged the Horny one, and he threw one of the stones at the monk, pinning him to the ground by his heel--which may be why the front stone is called the Heel stone. There is still superstition today that if you count the stones you bring the wrath of the devil upon you.
You wouldn't throw stones at a monk, right Oz?
Arthurian legend is also connected to Stonehenge. Supposedly, the stones were to be brought to the site as a war memorial. However, since the stones were originally placed by Giants, there was no way to move them--until Merlin came along and zapped them to their current position.
Back in the realm of less magical species, another popular myth claims the Druids are responsible. The Druids were an ancient priesthood of philosophers, poets, and seers. They followed solemn--and sometimes gory--ceremonies of their religion, including human sacrifice. However, the Celtic tribes that spawned the Druids did not exist until around 300 B.C., too late to take credit for the stone circle. The Druids possibly used Stonehenge as a ritual site, although this seems to be a more modern practice. In 1905 the Ancient Order of Druids performed initiation ceremonies at Stonehenge. However, the debauchery at Druidic celebrations ultimately led to the group losing its privileges to hold their festivals there.
Druid initiation ceremony at Stonehenge, 1905.
Much less fantastic, but probably the most factual, is the suggestion that two neolithic agrarian tribes, the Beakers and their later counterparts the Wessex peoples, were responsible for the creation of Stonehenge and did so as part of their religious beliefs.
I built Stonehenge?
The question of why was Stonehenge built has been debated since the place was first discovered.
Most feel Stonehenge has religious significance and was a ritual burial ground for tribes and their ancestors. The Beakers were sun worshippers and the connection of the stones with solstices seems to support this theory, as well as their arrangement along the lines of sunrise.
Stonehenge at Sunrise, midsummer solstice.
Professor Geoffrey Wainwright has suggested that Stonehenge functioned as a healing commune. Burial sites from around the area have showed remains of people with serious disease and injury, and over half of them were from places beyond the Stonehenge area. However, there is no record of any special healing wisdoms passed down in the culture of this area. Wainwright asserts that it may have functioned not for physical wellness, but as a religious healing center.
The idea of Stonehenge representing a prehistoric calendar has also been suggested. It is an attractive theory, highlighting this period where hunter/gatherer tribes were transitioning to more agricultural based cultures. The stones may have functioned like a primitive almanac using the moon's phases.
Gerald Hawkins, Professor of Astronomy from Boston University, expanded on the calendar belief by suggesting Stonehenge was an ancient observatory used to predict the movement of the stars and planets. He and his team were able to predict cycles of planetary movements off of the stones, including eclipses. His work was notable, partly because he used one of the first IBM computers to calculate his equations. He coined the term “neolithic computer” when he later discussed Stonehenge's relationship to astronomy.
Some less tangible theories include the idea that Stonehenge represents a portal to other worlds. This idea was propagated by the Druid culture, who described each stone as a “gate” that gave the ability to enter certain Fey worlds. Like Stargate, only without the flight suits.
I really loved this show.
This area is also famous for other oddities of nature, namely crop circles and UFO sightings. It is reputed to have strong electromagnetic forces, and is the epicenter of several key ley lines, which are ancient pathways used for both travel and spiritual purposes. When Stonehenge is combined with two other ley associated sites nearby, a right triangle pointing towards magnetic north appears. This has led to the claim that Stonehenge is an ancient radar beacon for extra-terrestrials.
The theory that suggests porn had loftier origins came out around 2003. A scholar from British Columbia declared that Stonehenge was a prehistoric tribute to the Mother Earth Goddess. The stones were basically a representation of Big Momma Gaia’s lady parts. “The vagina monoliths”, as the media dubbed it, never really caught on as a seriously considered theory.
There have been many attempts to recreate the oddity of Stonehenge. The first was the Maryhill Stonehenge in Washington, dedicated in 1918 as a WWI memorial. In Ingram, Texas, there's a full scale replica using plaster and wire frames. Burning Man offered their own interpretation in Twinkiehenge in 2001.
Twinkiehenge
But my favorite recreation of Stonehenge exists in my great state of Nebraska. Carhenge is a Stonehenge replica built from 38 automobiles by artist Jim Reinders. He constructed it in 1987 as a memorial for his late father. A 1962 Cadillac takes the honor of being the heel stone.
Carhenge from above.
Detail of Carhenge.
Whether dedicated to a religion based on the sun or part of a greater tool to calculate the celestial measurements of our universe, Stonehenge is a truly amazing example of humanity’s ability to do the impossible. We may never know what its original intended use was, although I have an idea . . .
Crawling out of bed in the morning is a little harder than it was ten years ago. My hands hurt. I can’t open diet Coke bottles anymore. I have gas, and frequently. Parts of me that used to look a man straight in the eye now stare at the ground. I’ve had surgery on places where no one should have to have surgery.
My youth has taken off like a prom dress, despite Estee Lauder’s promises.
Although I’m not looking forward to hot flashes or hair growing where it shouldn’t, I have decided to embrace one age-related affliction: selective hearing. For example, my 70 year-old father can’t hear my mother yelling to turn the football game down when she’s only a foot away in her recliner, but if I open a sack of chocolate covered peanuts from three rooms over while listening to AC/DC, he’s asking for one.
I’m hoping selective hearing will help me with this nagging voice in my head. It’s been with me for as long as I can remember, like an inconvenient birthmark that sounds like Fran Drescher. And when that voice starts, she goes for the jugular. I call these periods a Bitchy Inner Monologue Beast Outbreak--or BIMBO for short.
BIMBO: Are you still working on the same story? You’re never going to get that thing published. Surrender the fantasy.
Me: I think I can polish it.
BIMBO: Can’t polish a turd.
Me: It’s not that bad.
BIMBO: Snooki called. She wants her manuscript back.
Me: The bachelorette party scene is funny. All my betas laugh.
BIMBO: They laugh the polite laughter of people who think you’re two steps from losing it. Same thing they do when you wear your jeggings.
Me: Well, maybe it is missing something.
BIMBO: I think I know what you’re missing--it’s called plot.
Me: There’s no motivation for the main character. And I need less backstory.
BIMBO: You need more pizazz. Put another sex scene there.
Me: That’s a funeral scene.
BIMBO: Not if you make the corpse sparkly. Necrophilia is only bad if you’re human.
Me: Do you think I’m a terrible writer?
BIMBO: Yes. Although your grocery lists are quite riveting. Who knew there were so many types of vodka?
Me: Maybe if I cut the first three chapters and start with the car crash scene. OMIGOD! That’s brilliant!
BIMBO: Uh, are you listening to me? You should seriously consider a different career path. Something you’re good at, like making poor fashion choices or collating paper.
Me: I can do this! I’m awesome.
BIMBO: HELLO? Have you looked at yourself in the mirror today? Because that antioxidant cream you bought is a total rip off. I suggest you invest in paper bags.
Me: Did you say something? Because I think I just heard somebody open some chocolate peanuts.
Doubt and insecurity are unavoidable and affect us all--just like aging. But truly growing up as a writer involves using that selective hearing to ignore the BIMBOs. Here’s to being a mature writer, both chronologically and methodically.
Happy Insecure Writer’s Support Group Wednesday! For more tales from the trenches, visit Alex J. Cavanaugh’s blog, he’s the one that made this all possible.
I’m feeling a bit sentimental, so this Sunday’s Mythbusters is going to veer into the realm of symbolism and folklore, another of my favorite topics. You see, the Hubs and I celebrated 9 years together, and as I looked at the band of gold on my hand, I just had to wonder . . . is there magic in this ring on my finger?
Rings have been symbols imbued with significance and power since ancient times, although their meanings have not always been what Tiffany & Co. would have you believe.
The ring is viewed as a symbol of eternity--something with no beginning and no end, no direction and no break. It encompasses all space and time. Some of the first ornamental rings mimicked a serpent eating its tail. The consumption and rebirth of the figure was felt to represent the cyclical nature of life.
A ring could give the wearer various strengths--from invisibility to immortality. Magical rings are part of several cultures--Odin wore an arm ring that regenerated itself. King Solomon had a ring that gave him power over demons and animals. Literature also celebrates the mystique of the ring. Merlin was the victim of a ring that carried a love spell. And who can forget the bauble that put Middle Earth back on the map, J.R.R. Tolkein’s The One Ring.
Gratuitous picture of Viggo Mortensen.
The first rings were documented in ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs and probably evolved from the use of official seals, i.e. signet rings. In other parts of the ancient world, rings were worn by Celtic tribes and fashioned of iron or stone. In their myths, it was believed that rings anchored the soul in the body and prevented demons from entering.
The Greeks and Romans initially shared this not-so-romantic view of the ring. Although they were given during marriage, in most cases they symbolized the groom’s financial commitment to the bride--and the bride's duty and subservience to the groom. The ring was simply a symbol of being bound and was probably connected to the story of Prometheus. Prometheus, of foie gras fame, was forced to wear a link of his chain as a ring to serve as a reminder of being bound to the rock and “owing” the Gods.
Prometheus at Rockefeller Center
Later in the Roman Empire, rings were used to designate social classes. It is not until the 2nd century that the Roman comedic poet Plautus finally documents the ring as a symbol of love. Unfortunately, Hannibal misses the romance memo and uses his ring to poison himself to escape capture by the Romans after the second Punic War.
I have a poison ring that looks like this. For those Lucrezia Borgia days.
Christians started using plain gold rings in their wedding ceremonies in the 8th century, which was around the time clerical rings were appearing as well. Diamonds did not become a girl’s best friend until 1477, when Emperor Maximillian I gave the first known diamond engagement ring to Mary of Burgundy. Interestingly, rings for husbands didn’t gain popularity until post-WWII when marketing efforts placed value on celebrating marriage. Only 15% of pre-Depression era marriages were a double ring ceremony.
In the past, the placement of the ring was probably more important than its appearance.
The issue of left versus right hand was derived from ancient Egyptians’ belief that a vein ran from the ring finger of the left hand straight to the heart--the vena amoris. However, in some places in the Ukraine and Germany, the right hand is the proper hand for a marriage ring--they were a little less creative about the anatomy of the human body than the Egyptians. In symbolic terms, the left hand is often viewed as the receptive hand--it receives energy and gathers information in a subconscious fashion. The right hand is the active hand--it gives energy and is a symbol of awareness. Depending on what the wearer desires to achieve with their ring, either hand may be appropriate.
During the Renaissance, a person might wear a ring to announce their occupation or place in life. Thumb was for medical practioners, index was a merchant or salesman, middle was for a fool (I’m thinking not too many middle finger ring wearers back then), third was for the student, and the pinky was for lovers.
He may be a fool, but
he can walk in the daylight with that ring
Because of its roots in pagan and ornamental usage, some Puritans believed that wedding rings should be forbidden, citing Biblical admonitions against wearing gold or pearls or costly attire. In an effort to make the ring seem a bit more Christian, The Book of Common Prayer in the 1500s declared that the thumb, index and middle finger represented the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. The next finger was designated okay for use by humanity.
For those unhitched, each finger can symbolize and/or help emphasize certain qualities. The thumb represents self-assertion and power of will. The index finger, or the Jupiter finger, represents leadership abilities, ambition, and self confidence. Saturn is the middle finger and channels a person’s sense of law and justice. It forces introspection and self analysis. Apollo is the ring finger and represents love of beauty, creativity and expression of self. The little finger is Mercury, and speaks of intuition and communication, especially if used in manipulation. Now I understand the roots behind the mafioso pinky ring.
Tony Soprano rocks the pinky ring.
Some of my favorite rings have nothing to do with precious metals. Since I have mad love for anything paranormal, the ring of salt as popularized by Supernatural is always a good one.
I’m also a fan of fairy rings.
Circle of mushrooms called a fairy ring.
And onion rings.
And salt rings of all kinds.
So after all of this, is there magic in a ring? I think after nine years I can honestly say . . . yes.
