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How to Read the Discworld Series

July 24th, 2006

Terry Pratchett’s Discworld series consists of 34 books, with another book due at the end of September. When I decided to read the series, I was a little intimidated because this isn’t one of those series where the books are numbered. It’s pretty easy to get lost in the various storylines. The way I see it, there are two ways to read the series: by publication date, and by story arc.

I am not an expert on Discworld; I have read two of the books, a Wikipedia article, and a how-to-read-it list that was helpful in spite of being several years out of date. Both of those sites contributed to my Discworld plan.

By Publication Date: This is the way that I started reading the series, and I read The Colour of Magic and The Light Fantastic. I don’t think I will continue this way, because my library doesn’t have Equal Rites and I just don’t feel like reading the Witches stories yet. In any case, here’s the list:

By Story Arc: As I said earlier, I started with The Colour of Magic and The Light Fantastic, which are both Rincewind books. I’m not starting with those here because a character left at the end of The Light Fantastic, and I miss him too much to read on without him (yet). Here I’m going for the Watch books, and I’m preceding them with the Death books and the Monks of History books, which provide some useful background. After the Watch books, I’ll read the story arcs that are left, and the stand-alones.

Step 1: Read the Death books.

Step 2: Read the Monks of History books.

Step 3: Payoff! The Watch books make sense, theoretically.

Step 4: Read the Witches of Lancre books.

Step 5: Read the Rincewind books

Step 6: Read the Tiffany Aching books (optional—these are primarily children’s books).

Stand-Alone Books (can be read at any point in the series):

It is possible, though unlikely, that someone who reads my blog knows more about Discworld than I do. Not that I know very much—I just don’t know anyone else who reads Terry Pratchett, and I think I know everyone who reads my blog. However, if there is someone out there who is familiar with Discworld and thinks I’ve made an error here, let me know.

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Bye bye, UWP

July 2nd, 2006

Scott and I went to our last UWP class of the summer on Friday, but it’s not like we won’t be seeing those folks again. They don’t tell you this in the interview, but the Writing Project is one of those in-it-for-life deals. You go in thinking, “Hey, six graduate credit hours in three weeks? For free? Count me in!” But that’s just how they get their claws into you. Once you’re in, word starts getting around that you’ve got to do your presentation again at your home school, and probably a few more times after that. And then there are the monthly meetings, and the conferences they’ll be calling you to. Quite a racket they’ve got going, really.

It’s not so bad, though. I had a wonderful time, and it’s okay that they’re dragging me, kicking and screaming, into the world of “educational leadership.” And it’s more than okay that they made me write every single day. I only hope I can come close to doing that without being in class. I’ll probably post bits and pieces of the stuff I wrote in class, and maybe a little bit of the new stuff I’m working on. Lucky you.

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Scribblings Part 2

June 26th, 2006

This is more for the Florence folks than for anyone else–and by Florence folks, I mean Tyners, Whittingtons, and maybe Becky. Everyone is welcome to read of course, but it’s not likely to make much sense to people who weren’t practically raised out at The Country. This poem is modeled after a poem called “Where I’m From” by George Ella Lyons.
Firelight

Where I come from,

we have blackwater ponds

and a hundred miles of trails.

I am from the tractor shed at The Country,

where there is only one power outlet and one light bulb,

where the real light comes from the fire.

I am from weenie roasts and marshmallow toasts

and the Marshmallow Rule:

Never drop a toasted marshmallow on the ground, or else.

Where the picnic tables are not for sitting–

they’re the buffet, and there’s no more room for a plate.

We sit on upturned logs,

juggling plates and cans of Pepsi.

I am from scary ghost stories:

Uncle Forrest filling our heads with

the clanking chains and fleshless hands of Bonyfingers,

and my dad asking, “You okay over there, Bear?”

while I sit on the tractor trying not to listen.

I am from the Magic Tree,

the Grand Curve,

the Middle Field,

the Old Dike Trail,

home.

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Scribblings Part 1

June 20th, 2006

I promised–or threatened–to post a few of the little pieces that I have been writing at UWP. I might even post some of the stuff that I’m planning to put in my e-portfolio so that you can tell me what needs work. For tonight, though, something silly. I wrote this after playing with white play-doh during a lesson demonstration (taught by a kindergarten teacher).

Marshmallow Melodrama

“Calm down, Squish! Be mellow!” said Mama Mallow.

“Mom, how can you expect me to be mellow when we’re about to be roasted alive? And don’t call me Squish. That’s a baby name. If I’m about to be burned to a crisp and devoured by barbarians, I’d like to be treated as an adult. The name’s JetPuff.”

“JetPuff. Did those gooey friends of yours give you that name?” asked Papa Mallow. “Anyway, Squish, I doubt you’ll be burned alive. You’re still small enough to go the other way—submerged in near-boiling chocolate until you melt.”

Squish snorted. “Yeah, like that’s an improvement. Sounds like a pretty slow way to go, Dad. And I’m not that little. I work out.”

“Of course not, dear. You’ve grown into quite a fine young man. I’m so proud of you.” Mama Mallow had tears in her eyes as she spoke. “I was so looking forward to your graduation. You would have looked so distinguished in the traditional gown and crackerboard cap.”

The small family of marshmallows fell silent as the woods around them grew darker. The campers had not yet come back to the campsite, but they realized that their time could be growing very short. They had already had one close shave—the night before, the campers had finished the other bag of marshmallows, and were very close to opening their bag when the youngest camper had fallen asleep in front of the fire.

Now they were huddled together on one side of the bag, in prime position for escape when the bag was opened. They had rehearsed their escape plan several times, and now they could only hope for the best.

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Lucky You

June 18th, 2006

Months ago, Scott persuaded me to join him in the Upstate Writing Project Summer Institute. I whined and complained about it, but I’m really glad I caved–it’s a great experience. Anyone who reads my blog is likely to get an earful (eyeful?) of UWP happenings, because that happens to be the only thing I’m doing right now. Lucky you.

This three-week class is really two classes in one: “Teachers Who Write” and “Writers Who Teach.” The Teacher part is a lesson demonstration and miles of reflection, and I’ve already gotten through that harrowing experience.  Now it’s just the Writer part that I’ll need to work on obsessively. I have to include three finished, polished pieces in my porfolio, but that will leave a lot of short, unpolished stuff that could languish on my hard drive indefinitely. I have decided to post some of it here, so beware. This will be your only warning.

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Ambition

June 15th, 2006

I have decided to write a novel. Really–I’m not joking even a little bit. At Upstate Writing Project yesterday, I had a frog-strangler of a brainstorm, and I think there’s just too much there for it to be a short story. Believe me, it’s nothing hugely important. Scott’s reading a book by Dave Eggers called A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius–this is not that. It’s more of a “sit on the beach and chuckle” kind of book. I hope.

I started writing down my ideas yesterday, but I was tired of that today and tried my hand at actually writing some of the story. This is harder than it sounds, I promise. I kind of thought that knowing who my characters were and knowing what the story was about would magically make it appear on the paper. This is not so. I haven’t written a truly fictional story since around 9th grade, I think, and I don’t think I have ever in my life written realistic fiction. Ever.

I think the problem is voice. I’m pretty good at my own voice; the people in my class say they can identify pretty well with the things I write. But the things I write are almost always personal narratives–things that have actually happened to me. Obviously, this is different. The main character is sort of like me, and a lot of the characters are sort of like people I know, but none of these things have ever happened to me. I don’t know how I’d really react, so I’m having to figure out how she would react. I reckon it’s a fun challenge, but still…it’s hard.

Fortunately, I get to go to the Botanical Garden tomorrow with my class (field trip!), and we will be spending a couple of hours writing independently. Maybe I’ll get some more down. Wish me luck!

UPDATE: I made a correction, but I’m not telling anyone what it was because it was dumb. Kudos if you caught it, but don’t mention it to me.

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Feeling pretty, but rather useless

June 5th, 2006

My sister-in-law Jenna got married yesterday, and I was the matron of honor. She treated us to a fine time, too…especially before the wedding. The girls got pampered and prettied up before picture time, and I think it paid off, for me at least. I haven’t felt so pretty since my own wedding, I think. The real shock was my hair, which was up for the first time in seven years or so. And the eyeliner! I’m going to have to reintroduce myself to that stuff, I swear. And the wedding was gorgeous, too.

I’m having other troubles, though. Not serious, unless you count learning super-elementary web design as a serious problem. Every time I think about learning new computer-y things, I think back to the computer class at Project REACH. That class gave me Apple IIe, Paint, The Oregon Trail, and the first “bad” comment I ever got on a report card. Our report cards at REACH were on the unsatisfactory-satisfactory-excellent scale, and I usually got Es, at least in the classes that I liked. However, my computer teacher once pulled my grade down to satisfactory because I “failed to take risks.” Now, I understand that it’s sometimes important to take risks in The Oregon Trail. You’ll never make it to Oregon if you don’t, and you won’t have the pleasure of watching your covered wagon capsize in the flooded river, either. But I have now learned the truth about computers and taking risks. Here’s the secret:

Don’t. At least not without asking someone who has an inkling first. Because otherwise, you will break things so badly that they won’t go back. Like this blog, just for an example. Not that I broke my blog, or anything. I’m just saying that’s what could happen if you start tinkering with important settings without knowing what they do.

Of course, Scott showed me how to fix it, and now everything’s okay. But now I’ve moved on to new projects, and it’s all adding up to major frustration. It’s like I’m trying to do algebra without knowing how to divide. Sure, I could use a calculator to do all that division, but I still have to know what purpose it serves. Here, I’m trying to make a super-cool scrapbook on our web page, but I barely know where to start. I thought I’d do it on OpenOffice Impress (equivalent to PowerPoint), but I’m having to fight it to do the things I want it to do. And with my recent track record, it’s no wonder that the computer won that fight.

I think I’ll just grrrrrrr and leave it at that for the night.

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Back to blogging…and other things, too.

May 25th, 2006

Knife Throwing has been on an unofficial hiatus for over a year now, but I’m ready to pick it up again. With my shiny new laptop and website, I am back on top of things.

In other news, I have taken up running again. Over Christmas, Becky elicited a promise that I would attempt the Cooper River Bridge Run with her next year. I have spent almost 6 months not getting ready for it, but I’m starting to feel some pressure, so I’m getting things going again. I’m taking it slowly and hoping that I don’t get bored or frustrated too quickly.

In other other news, it’s the end of another school year. Tomorrow’s my last day, and I’ve got a thousand things to do before I turn in my keys for the summer. They’ve moved me to seventh grade and a new classroom, so I have some packing to do. With any luck, I’ll be able to get things going at the beginning of next year without much hassle.

Current projects:

It’s good to be back!

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