I have to say more about this, and so I will shortly. Linda is right, the psychologist’s hat is as difficult to remove as the headgear of the internal editor. More so, possibly, as most of us start out as uninformed nosey parkers and graduate (literally and severally) to become professional ones. When fictional characters are properly filled out, we are satisfied by them because, flaws and all, they are authentic. The trick is to allow them to be idiosyncratic, unpredictable, and downright annoying within that consistent authenticity. That’s what Linda has done with her characters, and why it became possible to unpick their psychologies, and even start to speculate on their futures. I aspire to that in my own writing, but I’m going to have to work pretty hard to achieve something that will pass muster, especially among my colleagues, some of whom are my very scary beta readers.
I also have to acknowledge the very nice comments about my review – blush!
Clinical psychologist Suzanne Conboy-Hill and I have been virtual friends for a year and a half. Recently she read my novel The Brevity of Roses. I was a little apprehensive when she tweeted that she had started reading it because I figured she might analyze my characters and find them wanting. This is how she reviewed my novel on Amazon: “There are two things you should know; I’m not a fan of romantic fiction so I would never have read Brevity i … Read More
You know those lyrics that you can’t quite make out and so you do your best with a phonetic rendition? A classic is the six year old belting out our national anthem and translating the less comprehensible ‘long to reign over us‘ as ‘the long train ran over us‘. An urban myth, possibly; but my sister’s stab at ‘Guantanamera‘, rendered as ‘one ton o’ metal‘, is definitely true. I was there and took merciless older sister advantage of her ignorance.
Another mysterious distortion emerged recently in the conversation of two radio presenters. Which two, I have no recollection, but it reappeared during a transmission from Glastonbury, so maybe it was 6Music. The ‘bommsittit‘ or ‘bomsytit‘ was evidently an expression used by the mothers of each of these young men in reference to the state of their bedrooms, and each had spent his childhood and much of his early adult life believing this was a noun. Gradually, the question of definition had crept in; what was a bommsittit, actually? Was it an animal – like a hippopotamus, or a walrus? Something snotty or green and globby? After all, gross and disgusting is the lifeblood of young lads so maybe there was a compliment lurking there. Well, no. BabyBoomers will get it. Maybe most people do. But maybe not. Think back then to when your room was a tip and your mother, just before tearing the place apart with an industrial hoover, and you still encased in your duvet along with the left over pizza and thirty five coffee mugs, thundered ‘This place looks like a bomb’s hit it!’
So there we are, a new word has arrived in our lexicon, albeit short of a convention on its exact spelling. Do you have any bommsittits in your vocabulary? Do you want to promote any from the local league to national players? Come on, letsbehavinyer!