Nahno McLein

I officially plead guilty for the crime of dumbness and by doing so I make it even worse.

I don't like to assume that the world is going down, but judging by how little privacy is left these days, the statement achieves a greater sense of plausibility.

It's not just CCTV surveillance by the watchstate (especially in England) or fingerprints on passports coming to Europe. Worst of all are the users of the internet themselves, me included. Blogger, Facebook, Livejournal and most openly Myspace - just to name a few - have convinced us to share private, sometimes very private, things with the whole world. Isn't that a bit dumb?

Most people know the stories of businesses checking on their workers (some did get fired just by having a negative Facebook status about their work). Much more concerning is what we share online that normally only our closest friends would know. My post from yesterday is the best example - it's likely that the person read the C-entry and now knows much more than I would like them to know.

We writer's need to be aware of the consequences of volatile dumbness. We never know who might read what is published.

Just a quick note: The A-Z challenge is amazing. I need more time to read more blogs (Cute smile for God!?).

theunexplainedmysteries.com

Coincidence and Chance have always been bugging me and this week once again they were either very present or fate has a weird sense of humour.
Do you have these days or weeks, when so many unlikely things happen and you question what is the meaning behind this?

Last week, my fictional Peter-self went to Nottingham for a 2 h event. The sunny and warm spring feeling was still in the air, until he arrived in the city. First, Peter got lost, because there's a lack of visible street names in England. Then it started to rain. Fate? Chance?

Next day, Peter went out, meeting the girl he kind of fancied and had been talking to online for a while. They didn't talk much until alcohol was more at work. In the end, she decided to go for another guy, but not without constantly throwing these looks at Peter.
Now here is the coincidence: Next day, Peter is about to tell his friends about the night while they are in a shop and suddenly he bumps into the girl. They talk, but both are still a bit tired. Then, Peter watches a film and can't remember the name of one figure - online, the girl suddenly tells him she is dressing up for the party of that figure (name riddle solved). Chance? You tell me.

The queen of beauty enters the stage. She rests her arms in prayer-pose in front of the heart centre and watches indifferently.
Then the music sets in, a melodic rhythm that makes the queen swing from end to end. Her tiptoes make her graceful body float above the surface.
She takes of the top garment to everyone's pleasure and reveals an oriental corset, shining in red and gold. When she turns around for everyone to gape at her bare legs, her arms jiggle slightly upwards and wide golden wings extend to her sides, the fabric shimmering.
Her dance continues as she swivels around and flaps the arms delicately. Eyes are drawn to her fragile figure, as long as she moves in a ballet surrounded by the feathering. She is about to turn a gay guy straight.

What do you think of burlesque? Can you enjoy it or do you think getting naked publicly is dishonorable?

The next 26 days we will go through the alphabet as part of the A-Z challenge.

As this is the beginning, I want to start with an unfinished poem a là work in progress. What do you think? Where does the Ode not serve the overall piece? What did you like?
Ode to Apple

A magical sound
like bells on a tree.
This is your juicy cacophony
from the branches of excess.

We all want to eat you.
I’d kill just to feel you,
I want you – bad.

It makes me so sad,
when I wonder what it’s like 
to explore your world
from the out- and the inside.

I need to take a bite.

An Apple is lustrous and hard on the shell,
But open the cover and flimsy glimmers a light
On erratic lines – my fingers wild.

Varieties in shape and taste,
an Apple is a legend to the eye,
so Adam got one right away.

Delicious Apple
There’s only one way
to savour your sweet vitamins.

Yeah, embarrassing, isn't it.
I just read a short story that I was working on over a year ago. It is a very personal story, one that I don't even know whether I can ever give it to the person that is involved. On the other hand, it's a really good story.

I was wondering how you cope with using material about your personal experience. People you know become characters (even though they will be different). In my first book, I used practically my whole environment. Parents and friends said they could clearly see themselves in it. Back then I didn't really think about what they thought of my depiction. That has changed.

If you witness something really funny happening, would you use it in your writing, even though the person that it happened to might read it someday? After all, you do use different names.

One week and a bit to go until the A-Z challenge. (You can find a nice little picture and a link on my notepad sticky note on the left)

I have thought about so many ideas, but I'm unsure yet about which letters to sort them to. Just to explain for newbies, although it's hardly likely that anyone in the part of the bloggosphere hasn't heard it yet, the A-Z challenge is a month-long blogging challenge, hosted by TossingItOut.blogspot.com.
There are 26 letters in the alphabet (in English) and you have 30 days to dedicate one post per day to each. Easy peasy.

So far, I have the A-poem planned (need to work on it though), then a series about my ride back to Germany on my motorbike (we'll see how creatively I can combine this traveling experience with writing), and last idea goes to: a multi-post elaboration on the a Hollywood practice called "The Heroes Journey", which I think is highly advisable for writers to at least know about. It's the knowledge of conventions that enables us to alter and experiment with them.
So, what are you ideas so far?
I hope to see you there soon.

This was wonderful blogfest with so many exciting entries. Thrilling to host it.

Now it's time for the winner. Below you find the 10 best entries that included "art". All entries were great, but the nature of art is restricted. That's why we have only one winner:

The $20 voucher for CSNstores goes to:
Laura from Daily Dodo

Here is her entry:
Read this as if you are at my funeral
And faced with the crowd of mourning strangers
With tears in their eyes,
Hold in your mouth the art of their final memory
Of me.

Read this as though we lie together,
And in the long summer grass I reach across
To hand you this scrap of love from my pocket.

And here are the nine secondary winners!

Donna Hole:
Music and art have always been a part of my writing. I listen to music to set mood, or just as background noise to block out all other distractions. I look at pictures or movie excerpts to set a character personality or scene setting.

JC Martin:
“What is that?”
“A herd of horses racing through the plains.”
“Horses!? They look like a pack of mutant rats.”
“Hey, art is in the eye of the beholder.”
“That can’t be art in anybody’s eyes.”
“Picasso’s work was misunderstood in his time too.”
“Shh…Mrs Dempsey’s coming.”
“Keep working, boys. Adam, I love your horses. Great abstract art.”

Petra:
Her pen
drips ink form the art
of her heart as it spills
its questions into a book
she’s reading hoping
to gain a closer look
at the One who gives all
because He was and is
and is to come always
from the vast canvas
of His wisdom revealing
the passion of His cross–
true justice bleeding grace.

Arlee:
The art of brevity is a misnomer.  The history of art spans a long stretch of time.  And the range of variety within the arts is broad and as infinite as the mind will allow.  How can art and brevity even be used side by side?  How can a windbag like me expect to be brief?  Me?  Sixty words? Hmmph!

Apfel:
Inspiration
I look up at the deep blue sky,
covered in mountains till half,
I look inside the deep dark woods,
A Cow feeding it's Calf.
Then I take a drive out by the river,
What a clear reflection of a bullock cart!
Admit it, if you need inspiration,
Nature is the purest form of art.

Wendy:
It's shy.
My art is shy.
It lurks in the corners of a dusty brain...
Smiling to itself in that sly way.

Sometimes art takes a tumble to the other side
Just to see it's little shy friends.
They visit, compose...
And share those timid and colorful plans.

Then pop! And blurt!
Bursting out of the mind...
Art.

Lisa:
What can I do to help reach this goal?
Will my simple words tip the scales?
I am stepping up and helping out.
Do not want to be why this goal fails.

Without a picture or a prompt
My mind is blank and scrambling
My heart felt wish as words are read
I do not sound like I am rambling

Angela:
 “Keep the light on.”
“Why?”
He’ll never understand. “Because I’m afraid.”
“Afraid? Of what?” His fingers rest on the switch. His eyes narrow.
“Of that.” I point at the canvas on the wall. His art.
“It’s a painting,” he says. “That’s all.”
“No it’s not. It’s evil.”
“Evil?”
“Yes. Evil. Look at the eyes.”

Li:
He slips behind another's eyes, wends his way through exotic mazes of thought, dreams another's dreams, takes strange words into his mouth and expels them, whole yet somehow changed. He skulks about the perimeter, always watching, dissecting;  taking them apart and cobbling them together into angels and monsters which only he can see. He is a voyeur. He loves art.