Tutorial: A sonnet

Image via Wikipedia"Shall I compare thee to a summer's day" is probably the most well know start to a sonnet in the who English language. Recently, though, I have been playing with this form in the vain attempt to win a certain contest. :) Here's a quick guide on how to put one together.

The general form is like this abab, cdcd, efef, gg with ten syllables per line. This is the classic English sonnet. There are other types with other syllable requirements.

So, to start . . .

When will I publish another book
How will I ever overcome this merciless block.
Writing as ever has me hooked,
It would be better than punching a clock.

Alright, there are already a few problems with this quatrain. The first line is only nine syllables. Since I'm doing English sonnet, I need ten. The tough part is finding a one syllable word that makes sense in the line. Revised:

Tell me, will I publish another book ?

Better, but this is an example and not a literary master piece. :) Next line has thirteen syllables. We need to cut some, maintain sense, and not take too many. Revised:

How will I overcome this horr'ble block?

Noticed the contracted horrible. This is because I needed the word and there were too many syllables. Some words you can contract. Contractions are your friend. This brings the count to ten. The next line needs to rhyme with book, but I accidentally used hook. I may have to change the whole line now. Revised:

The excitement of writing, my breath took.

I had to revise the whole thing, but I think I like it better. You have to be careful with big words. At first I tried "euphoria" but that has four syllables, leaving me only six to get the rest of the job done. Excitement is still long, but it frees up a syllable. If I'd needed and extra, you could have bet euphoria would have been in there.

The next line is right on meter wise and fits the theme. Here's the revised quatrain:

Tell me, will I publish another book ?
How will I overcome this horr'ble block
The excitement of writing, my breath took.
It would be better than punching a clock.

The next two quatrains are in the same form with the same meter. However, the do not rhyme with any of the rhymes in this quatrain or others. All of the rhymes are internal to their specific quatrain. Here's my next one, but I will spare you the editing process:

Day after day I type my precious words,
Wondering who will e'er want to read them.
Anxiety my flow of work disturbs.
A constant fight, an internal mayhem.

Two things about this quatrain. Notice the use of the contract e'er to fit my idea in. Every time I use that I feel like Shakepeare. :) I also rhymed words with disturbs. It is know as a sound alike rhyme and I found it in my handy rhyming dictionary. There is a link below for the free one I use. And the next quatrain:

Slowly I ease my tension on the keys,
Wanting only to write with heartfelt joy
From my writing I find my constant ease
All my soul to write these words I employ.

You may also notice that a lot of grammar is turned around to get the point across. Too many restrictions on the poety, and you are sunk. I like twisting the forms, though, because it makes the work more interesting to speak aloud. Now for the icing on the cake that defines the sonnet: the ending couplet that pulls it all together.

A writer is what I e'er long to be.
It never once fails to make me feel free.

And that, I think sums up the poem and my feeling. Now the entire sonnet. Read it out loud and feel it's rhythm:

Tell me, will I publish another book?
How will I overcome this horr'ble block?
The excitement of writing, my breath took.
And would be better than punching a clock.
Day after day I type my precious words,
Wondering who will e'er want to read them.
Anxiety my flow of work disturbs,
A constant fight, an internal mayhem.
Slowly I ease my tension on the keys,
Wanting only to write with heartfelt joy.
From my writing I find my constant ease,
All my soul to write these words I employ.
A writer is what I e'er long to be.
It never once fails to make me feel free.

So, that's sonnet writing in a nutshell. This is actually the easiest compared to a roundel and an ode. I haven't tried the others yet. :) I hope that this was helpful to some. This could certainly be slanted toward writing fantasy, horror, and sci-fi themes. I've already written Ode to the Undead Wizard, so it can be done!

Types of poetry

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News and Views

Well, I really ought to be sleeping, but I needed to tell everyone my great news. Golden Visions has picked up my flash story . . . can't remember the name now -- oh, I thinkImage via Wikipedia it is the Goodbye. Publication to be in Feb with a bit of a token ($5) payment. Yay, me!

I did lose the writing contest, but just by a hair. I submitted three poems (two sonnets and a rondel) to Coyote Wild. Love those meter and rhyme poems. Why do free verse when you can mash around some words to make a story.

In other news, I wrote a short story of about 3000 words, but it has a plot problem so I'm letting it rest. If any like crits, I'm open to trading.

I also saw that Harlequin Historical is looking for 10,000-15,000 electronic submitted stories for their website. They need to be "hot" so that's what I'm going to be working on for the next few days. Already got a plot, like the hero, not so much the heroine. Hm, she'll need work.

I've always been sick lately, but it's a long story full of doctors, prescriptions, and probably a gigantic dose misunderstanding.

Well, that's all I have now. Maybe I'll post a rant or two when I wake up.

These are for me to check out later. ;)

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A Lovecraftian Sense of Humor

Sweet Ermengarde - Wikisource: "Ermengarde Stubbs was the beauteous blonde daughter of Hiram Stubbs, a poor but honest farmer-bootlegger of Hogton, Vt. Her name was originally Ethyl Ermengarde, but her father persuaded her to drop the praenomen after the passage of the 18th Amendment, averring that it made him thirsty by reminding him of ethyl alcohol, C2H5OH. His own products contained mostly methyl or wood alcohol, CH3OH. Ermengarde confessed to sixteen summers, and branded as mendacious all reports to the effect that she was thirty. She had large black eyes, a prominent Roman nose, light hair which was never dark at the roots except when the local drug store was short on supplies, and a beautiful but inexpensive complexion. She was about 5ft 5.33...in tall, weighed 115.47 lbs. on her father's copy scales - also off them - and was adjudged most lovely by all the village swains who admired her father's farm and liked his liquid crops."

I just had to post this story because it is the funniest thing I have read in a long time. To make it even more astonishing, it was publish in 1917!!!

More later, after sleep and food and other necessary necessities. Much to tell!