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Re: [ticket2write] Re: High is the Mountain - Chapter 18

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  • marti tucker
    Sam, I still don t know how to write on another writer s text. Do you. Exactly how do you do it. If you know tell me. If anyone else out there can tell me,
    Message 1 of 10 , May 3, 2004
      Sam,
       
      I still don't know how to write on another writer's text.  Do you.  Exactly how do you do it.  If you know tell me.  If anyone else out there can tell me, It's something I need to learn.  Sam, I don't bother with your little gramatical errors because I assume you will pick them up and mainly because I don't know how to write on your text.
       
      marti

      Sam <appalbookworm@...> wrote:
      Thanks, Jake. As you have noted, it is difficult to edit ones own work
      and the spell checker won't catch words that are spelled correctly but
      used incorrectly. Compound words are particularly bothersome and I
      appreciate you catching them.

      Sam






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    • Sam
      Marti, I always read messages on the web site rather than e-mail. I simply hit the reply button, then type into the previous message. I usually set what I ve
      Message 2 of 10 , May 4, 2004
        Marti,
        I always read messages on the web site rather than e-mail. I simply
        hit the reply button, then type into the previous message. I usually
        set what I've done apart by using all caps. You can do the same thing
        in e-mail if you use the quote inline option in your mail program.

        Sam
      • Susan Donahue
        Marti...Thank you for asking a very good question. If you click on REPLY, the existing message will be contained in a new text box in which you can type your
        Message 3 of 10 , May 4, 2004
          Marti...Thank you for asking a very good question. If you click on
          REPLY, the existing message will be contained in a new text box in
          which you can type your own message. I generally cut and paste the
          portions of the existing message I wish to discuss and delete the
          rest. If you leave the whole message, it makes yours very long and
          some readers object to having their mailboxes cluttered with never-
          ending streams of messages attached to new ones.



          --- In ticket2write@yahoogroups.com, marti tucker <writelink3@y...>
          wrote:
          > Sam,
          >
          > I still don't know how to write on another writer's text. Do
          you. Exactly how do you do it. If you know tell me. If anyone
          else out there can tell me, It's something I need to learn. Sam, I
          don't bother with your little gramatical errors because I assume you
          will pick them up and mainly because I don't know how to write on
          your text.
          >
          > marti
        • James
          I tried to read her in stories, and in the books called sacred and most secret, yet she eluded me. Sometimes I thought I caught a glimpse of her in nature, but
          Message 4 of 10 , May 4, 2004

            I tried to read her in stories, and in the books called sacred and most secret, yet she eluded me. Sometimes I thought I caught a glimpse of her in nature, but it resolved into shadows. I was sure, I knew, that if there were shadows there was also light. So I invoked an elaborate alchemy of approach, yet no prescription sufficed, and she yielded not. In the stars I looked for her, but every map gave more questions and never the face I sought. Glimpses, shadows, glimmers, always the gray game, but never the luminous face. I made an alter of finest quality—by this I found exactly and only my creation, nothing more. She held herself aloof from the ancient images; my charms held no appeal. We gathered to invoke her name, but to no avail. Every charm was dispersed, and every craft and every conjurers task was as nothing to her. All commands, all entreaties came to naught. To number and element she remained immune. Nothing cast or broken, nothing done or woven, no cycle, no intonation served.

            What was the strange and mysterious place of her birth? At first I thought the ancients had sent her, that the word of her coming was already known among the simple people, even mirrored in their rituals. Then I thought she had always been with me, waiting for the day when she could speak. But I learned she had spoken long ago, and many times since, and down the ages to present moment. She had come to me in luminous dreams I had not remembered. She sang and whispered, but I did not notice. I know now how distracted I was by my toys and tricks. Coming to this, I dropped them, and in morning before the coming of dawn, I left it all behind. I went then to the mountain top and sat in silence for a long while. There was nothing within, and seeming nothing without, and I felt and knew that nothing of the old was needed now. Life became simple. I had nothing and needed nothing, save something to give—and that would now be the object of my quest.

            And when the sun rose, she came to me at last. Not as whisper but as thunder, not as glimmer but as a storm of light. Her shafts of song assailed the secret places of the soul. She sang a new alchemy that cannot be bound in a sacred book. Her presence unveiled a new history of the world all laid in geometry of fire. Her charms were constellations, her craft a sphere of glory, her magic was the sunlight of a thousand worlds.


            James http://www.bookreader.org/m




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