Sore Finger

Well, today at work we were hardly bothered by customers so I managed to type up nearly two pages worth of draft—and I mean draft—material. Still trying to flesh out a major character. Well, I’m still trying to flesh out everything, but today it was the main female character’s turn. I was also trying to use the word muliebrity which I came across while reading Bill Bryson’s Mother Tongue. Mother Tongue is a history, as best as can be established, of the English language. I’m only about half way through, so I may post a fuller review when I’ve finished it. However, the striking thing is just how persistent the English language has been. Neglected and derided for much of its history, it is now very widely spoken around the world, which is putting it pretty mildly. 

Bryson’s tone is casual and engaging. I also quite enjoyed his biography (history?) of Shakespeare, which had the same attractive style. Bryson is also willing (to the point of devoutness) to point out what is not known and what cannot be known, which he did ad nauseam in Shakespeare, which was thrown into sharp relief by all the fanciful claims that he debunked in doing so. Shakespeare is well worth a read, but be prepared to be slightly unfulfilled after due to the lack of substantial information. But that’s just the nature of studying the Elizabethan and Jacobean eras.


**EDIT** I’ve just realised I’ve called this post Sore Finger and neglected to mention the said damaged digit. It was no big deal, I was trying to switch front-end loader tractor fronts and pulled the pin with the wrong grip. The pin came out—at speed—and decided to do a fair impersonation of a hammer head. Not to be outdone, the bucket front decided to be an anvil. I think you’ll agree, pretty quick-witted for inanimate objects. Anyways, my little finger on my right hand is a bit swollen and bruised. I did try to take a picture comparing it to my unsullied little finger, but that proved pretty much an impossible thing to do.


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Filed under philosophy of art, Writing

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