Search posterous

Search all posts and users. Type a name, type a favorite song title, whatever! See what comes up.
  

More posterous blogs











More recommended blogs »

Here are posterous posts filed under writing...

Roscoe Ellis says...

...while watching football on TV, I imagine I'm sharing those activities with lots of  Americans right now. And since I'm watching live TV, that means I'm at the  back table where my little portable set is connected to rabbit ears. And since I'm at the back table, that means my computing is being done on Salleee, my little  eeepc netbook, from which I'm sending this post, and on which I hope to do a bit of writing while keeping one eye on the game.

All things considered, this is a pretty nice way to spend Thanksgiving Day.

Filed under: writing

I attended some interesting presentations and a round table on agile web content management this morning, run by Vyre and featuring speakers from Gartner, the National Trust and Indigo Blue.

  I'd never heard of agile before I started at uSwitch, so it was good to hear other people singing its praises, just as all the developers I work with do.

  During the round table, we were asked to identify whether we saw ourselves as 'business' or 'IT', which I thought was interesting bearing in mind that at work we've been trying to break down that distinction, under the tongue-in-cheek banner of 'one team one dream'. I think it's a good idea to try to get away from that division and incorporate everyone who's working on the same project into one workflow, because after all, we're all trying to get to the same end goal.

  It was also interesting to hear someone ask for opinions about where the content team should sit within their business. It's a tough one, because I feel like content exists somewhere inbetween marketing, commercial, search and development. I do think it can be helpful to have content in the middle of it all, actually, rather than sitting in one specific area, although maybe there is a danger of losing sight of an overall content strategy by falling into the role of a support act for for other areas around the business. 

Filed under: writing

aliceayel says...

After having successfully learnt Gloria Fuertes' poem Mi escuela, mi escuela, I asked my students to copy the poem as a calligram. I had already read a very good post from Claire Seccombe about calligrams and I wanted to try it out with my students.

You can use calligrams for lots of different activities such as "displaying key words, introducing new vocabulary or including a glossary on a worksheet". For example you write the word "grand" in big letters and the word "petit" in small letters. This way students "visually" remember what the words mean.

It could also involve sentences and even a poem, as I did with my Spanish students. I asked them to be creative and think of a shape which reminded them of the poem. Lots of them thought of the peace and love symbol to represent it and others had great ideas too!
I then took photos of their calligrams and posted them on the school blog so they could all see their imaginative work :)

What about you? Have used calligrams in lessons? 

Filed under: writing

rickscott says...

I created this space because I need to write more about the technical stuff I get up to, and because I need to write more, period. Some really amazing people whom I greatly respect have encouraged me to get going on this, especially when it comes to writing about testing.

There are a lot of different technical areas I'm interested in, and I'm not going to restrict topics here to just one. However, it seems to me that there's a ton of writing "out there" about programming, systems admin, even UI design, but a dearth of writing about testing. I'm the furthest thing from a Great Ghod of Testing, but I *can* share what I've done, what's worked and what hasn't, and people will find some value in that.

So, I had best get writing.

Filed under: writing

Riley Dog says...

I am dating again – well, the one date, with a man who didn’t ask me any questions about myself. It ruined the pace of things. I had to maintain a constant brainstorm of conversation topics, mostly replicating material from his profile – falsified – he’d lied about his height. “What do you do for a living?”, “Where are you from originally?”, “Do you drink much coffee?” I asked, and he said optometrist, Baltimore, no, though we were in a coffee shop and he was drinking coffee, which, iced and milk-pale, had touched his breath already, that dad-smell. “I might do that at home,” I said, pointing at the glossy violet quotes stenciled on the walls of the café, letters in a dissonant overlap. I began tearing my napkin into tiny pieces. I didn’t know how to end a date properly – was thirty minutes enough? The napkin was indigo blue with “Indigo,” the name of the café, patterned over it. I tore it to separate the letters – i, n, d, i, g, … – and formed a lush pile in front of me, until he answered one of my questions with unanticipated enthusiasm, and his dad-smelling breath blew the pieces over me in a sudden napkin rain.

Afterward, I found bits of it caught in my hair. I combed them out with a slow flourish. The cat watched for a little while and then fell asleep, curled by the window like a seashell. At the sound of cars, her ears flickered in sleep, affected by the world in only this small way. At what degree of loneliness does owning a cat become a cliché? I don’t want to leave our apartment again. I’d rather stay here and do domestic things – bleach down surfaces, iron your clothing, clean the tarnished silver with a chemical reaction, boil a chicken carcass into stock. I want to research the history of the clawfoot bathtub, to discover where it got its cruel, curled feet. I want to paint the rooms, roll a creaking roller over the gray wall. That’s the part I was most looking forward to – I would have painted the back of your shirt when you weren’t looking. There wouldn’t have been any brainstorming, or any new dates with uncurious strangers, to scrape me empty like a vanilla bean. We would shut the shutters, and if an ambulance sirened violently outside, it wouldn’t be headed here.

 

Filed under: writing

Ray says...

Barcelona, Spain-based interactive agency Herraiz Soto's latest creation, Ommwriter, is a distraction-almost-free text editor with beautiful design, though not nearly as functional and powerful as WriteRoom, which I use quite regularly. For example, no options for light text on dark background (yet). But Interesting concept and has great potential.

I do however hate the hand-over-your-email-or-you're-not-getting-it approach to the free download. So here's the direct link (50mb).

Filed under: writing

pengxwang says...

it was just the day before,
a dream with my white eyes open wide 
in there with the sky above,
were you and a storytale that read

once upon a time ago,
soaring in the actual skies,
you could do it and
all it was is that


basking in the vapor stream
extending my white hand far and wide
that atmosphere certainly
is already made out to you and me

once upon a time ago,
putting real things into words,
could not be done and
all you saw is that

underneath the usual skies,
meeting you there late tonight,
i could do it and
all i want is that


always up ahead
is the other side

freedom for certain
awaits over there
(awaits over there)
with the consequence

ktv version adapted from english translation on supercarband.com

video:

Filed under: writing

ericandrade says...

Poem by Taylor Mali (www.taylormali.com).

Link via @dddiana. (Grazie mille!)

Filed under: Writing

erikemery says...

After a major edit of my novel, I dropped it down by about 21,000 words. That ends up to be just about 21% of the words.

And the story didn't change a bit.

Like. At all.

That's a good sign I had a problem.

I'm going to go through it again soon. This time for pacing, to make sure I didn't take out anything important or rush anything too badly. It'll probably grow again. But I feel good about the edits I made.

Filed under: writing

the-antigob says...

White noise is a book about death, or more importantly, a book about fear of dying. It permeates the life of Jack Gladney, his wife Babette and their four children of differing parentage. Jack is head of Hitler studies in a Midwestern college known only as The College On The Hill. He spends his time knocking around with his peculiar colleagues, shopping with his wife at supermarket and placing his kids on flights to far-flung parents – some spies, some hippies.

People talk in a stylised disjointed way. Children have vocabularies far beyond their years and clear thoughts come to everyone, albeit marshalled and reduced by the constant thrum of television. It doesn’t sound a great life, but there’s some amazing writing. I particularly liked when the whole family go to a drive-in and eat in their car, so desperate to feed they don’t want to engage in conversation or even face each other round a table.
Then, an ‘airborne toxic event’ rolls over their town and Jack discovers his wife is on a medication that purports to cure the patient of a fear of death.

Not an easy book to read, this is worth the occasional re-read of a chapter or two. Apparently, DeLillo writes each paragraph on a separate piece of paper and then tinkers with it to get the rhythm just right.

Filed under: writing