30 Interesting Facts about Books

As writers, we want to have great inspiration. We are readers, too. Here are some awesome facts about World Book Day 2015, courtesy of Interesting Literature Blog.

Interesting Literature

30 fun facts about books, in honour of World Book Day 2015

SF writer Isaac Asimov (1920-1992) is the only author to have published a book in all ten Dewey library categories.

When asked what book he’d like to have with him on a desert island, G. K. Chesterton replied, ‘Thomas’s Guide to Practical Shipbuilding.’

Hugh Lofting, author of Dr Doolittle, thought books should have a ‘senile’ category to complement the ‘juvenile’ section.

Dickens’s house had a secret door in the form of a fake bookcase. The fake books included titles such as ‘The Life of a Cat’ in 9 volumes.

Playwright Joe Orton went to prison in 1962 for defacing library books. One of the cartoons he drew shows an elderly tattooed man in trunks.

Books BerlinThe first book bought on Amazon was called Fluid Concepts and Creative Analogies: Computer Models of the Fundamental Mechanisms of Thought.

Author…

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Writer Fail

I made it a goal in 2015 to write 5000 words per month. I created an awesome spreadsheet to record all the writing I would be doing. I set out to write 20 days in the month, with only 250 words needed per day. That is doable, right?

FAIL.

I wrote a grand total of 400 words in 1 writing session. That’s one writing session in the entire month of January.

While that seems a lot like a writer fail, I need to remember that my goal for December was also to write 5000 words. And in December, I wrote 0.

So, while 400 out of my projected 5000 for January was a fail, compared to December, I wrote quite a lot.

Here’s to the “failures” and successes of the writing world.

Happy writing!

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Dear John

For the November prompt, I picked the song title Thank You.

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Welcome to Hell

The prompt I used for this piece was the phrase “Welcome to Hell,” which has personal meaning to me. I wrote this to be purposely short, vague, and open to interpretation. Feel free to let me know if it speaks to you, and if so, what it says.

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King of the World

The following is a short story written for peer feedback in my creative writing class. It’s a piece I had started last year and turned into a rough draft, and here it is with a little more polish. It could stand to have a little more…something, but overall I’m pretty pleased with it. Enjoy! …or don’t, whatever.

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WfVsn4ZtjdA

I thought this was pretty interesting, any thoughts?

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And After that…Part 2

Howdy Scribes!

Sorry for the delay in the next posting of After That, after your submissions the winning choice was for our intrepid ring raider to brave the sewers, lets see how it goes then shall we?

 

And After That…Part 2

He climbs.  He doesn’t know if it’s him or Jose Cuervo steering the wheel but regardless the descent is into not so much madness but more of a slunky slosh of shit and other biohazards meant to be anywhere else but his shoes.  Maybe it was something else, maybe it was his love for Lisa, but as much as he boasted affections in dark corners of their apartment, slugging a finger up and down her cheek between sips of wine, he was never much of a shower, but ten parts a teller.  There was no light except the steadily dimming glow of his cell phone’s LED draining from the thirty percent he tried to ignore, but the loud shattering sound from the depths sent cracks throughout him that snatched at his attention.

Tong….

He took a breath in and immediately wanted to claw out the nose hairs that harbored the smells of everyone’s excrement so sternly. He found himself in a story he’d never known his life was ready to write.  He was being, perhaps, a tad melodramatic.

Tong….

She’s waiting for me. He made himself remember, the thought latching to his arms like a marionette and he spiritedly shifted his sleeves upward.  He dove his arms into the muck that sploshed sweetly, bits of peanuty chips milkily splattering across his face, into his beard and gliding down with the sweat above his brow.  No ring. 

Tong….

Tooonnnnnnnngggg….

Chekov’s sound fights to clip the marionette strings he’d made for himself but he doesn’t let it.   He was an emphatically normal man.  He was ready to leave.  He was not ready to be the cautionary tale of the hazards of illegally sneaking through Columbus Ohio sewers after midnight.  The choice was clear, he thought, the choice was to be the man he was mediocrely meant to be, or at least it was.

Tong….

                Someone…help.

Sonuvabitch. The word echoed through his everything, wrapped in the wary wails of a little girl as he contemplated the pitfalls of being a someone, and after that…?

 

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So, what happens after that…?

1.  Photo (6)

2.  Photo (8)

3. Photo (7)

Check back next week for the next installment, and make sure to leave your choice in the comments!

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