NPR reminded me of Emily Dickinson this morning. Not being a huge fan of rhyme time poetry, she’s an exception for me.  Maybe for you, too?

God Gave A Loaf to Every Bird

God gave a Loaf to every Bird—
But just a Crumb—to Me—
I dare not eat it—tho’ I starve—
My poignant luxury—

To own it—touch it—
Prove the feat—that made the Pellet mine—
Too happy—for my Sparrow’s chance—
For Ampler Coveting—

It might be Famine—all around—
I could not miss an Ear—
Such Plenty smiles upon my Board—
My Garner shows so fair—

I wonder how the Rich—may feel—
An Indiaman—An Earl—
I deem that I—with but a Crumb—
Am Sovereign of them all—

Who wants to take a shot at analysis on this one?  Keep your eyes on your own paper and don’t use Google.

A week ago, I posted about the ever growing stack of novels on my bedside table.

It occurred to me that my opinions on these novels make for excellent blog fodder, and so I offer you a quick review of the most recently finished work from what I’ve termed The Stack.

People who know me really well should appreciate the huge leap it took on my part to approach reading a novel that might be categorized as science fiction.  I chose Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy because, frankly, I found the movie slightly amusing and thought the novel was probably a good read.  I was right.  Sort of.

Completion of the novel solidly proves that (1) the movie was actually really awful and (2) this is a perfect example of why watching a movie is never a viable substitute for reading a book.

Unless we’re talking about Twilight.

The late Douglas Adams was a hilarious writer, injecting dry wit and a sense of irony that is both ordinary and brilliant into a  great premise.

After the Earth is destroyed by a bureaucratic alien race called the Vogons to make way for a hyperspatial freeway, Arthur Dent, our anti-hero, is saved by his friend Ford Prefect, an incognito visitor from another planet.

Ford, who also happens to be a contributing writer to The Hitchiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, and Arthur subsequently fall in with a cast of quirky characters, including a hilariously depressed robot.  I mean, really, why would someone create a robot personality that was depressed?  Little things like this is what makes the book really enjoyable.  I particularly respect how this work pokes fun at its own genre in a pretty obvious way and doesn’t in any way, remotely, not at all, never ever takes itself seriously.

I purchased the Complete Hitchiker’s Guide which includes all four of Adams’s novels, but I only finished the first.  Mostly because I have a whole bunch of other books I want to read first.  I’m definitely going to come back to it, though, so I highly recommend it if you’re in the mood for something light, clever and generally funny.

Next in “The Stack”?  Stephen King’s On Writing.  Yes, I am aware of how trite that is.  Thanks.

I’m about two thirds the way through.  So far, so brilliant.

From On Writing (p. 127):

I’m convinced that fear is at the root of most bad writing.  If one is writing for one’s own pleasure, that fear may be mild — timidity is the word I’ve used here.  If, however, one is working under deadlines… that fear may be intense.  Dumbo got airborne with the helo of a magic feather; you may feel the urge to grasp a passive verb or one of those nasty adverbs for the same reason.  Just remember before you do that Dumbo didn’t need the  feather, the magic was in him.