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My Imagination

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  • Carol Carpenter
    My Imagination I have an imagination that goes in and out with me And she causes me more trouble than most will ever see She’s oh so very like me, and swirls
    Message 1 of 7 , Jan 29, 2005
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      My Imagination
       

      I have an imagination that goes in and out with me

      And she causes me more trouble than most will ever see

      She�s oh so very like me, and swirls ideas in my head

      But certain mental snapshots make me run quickly back to bed

       

      The funniest thing about her, is I cannot find the switch

      To stop my brain's enchantress or toss her in the ditch

      Many times I�ve tried to turn her spritely down the hall

      Sometimes when I want to write, she�s not around at all

       

      She hasn�t got a clue at all of how writers ought to play

      And always makes a fool of me in the most ridiculous way

      A giggle lights behind my eyes, for she hides within you see

      And when I look for her to blame, a shadow's all she'll be.

       

      One morning last semester, an essay test was looming

      The day was bright, the grass so green, and all the flowers blooming

      My imagination deserted me, and left me high and dry

      Creative writing test? Nah-history quest, without the muse�s eye.

       

      I got an A, of course!!

       

      __________________________________________________
      Do You Yahoo!?
      Tired of spam? Yahoo! Mail has the best spam protection around
      http://mail.yahoo.com

    • wings081
      Dear Carol Taxing your imagination: Steam hissed like a scalded cat as the driver engaged the lever, causing the wheels to spin on the rails, until finally,
      Message 2 of 7 , Jan 30, 2005
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        Dear Carol

        Taxing your imagination:

        Steam hissed like a scalded cat as the driver engaged the lever,
        causing the wheels to spin on the rails, until finally, with a
        judder they took hold, propelling the engine and carriages forward.
        In a first-class compartment, George Gray lowered the window blind
        to shield him from the gaze of passengers on the station platform.
        Beside him, with head engrossed in a daily newspaper, sat Inspector
        Willett of the Metropolitan Crime squad, who was accompanying George
        to a safe house pending the court case of the Crown versus John
        Greenway alias Jack the Rat.

        According to the timetable, the train was supposed to be non-stop to
        Reading so why was it slowing to an unscheduled halt at the little
        station of Twyford.?
        As the train eased to a gentle stop, George pulled aside the blind
        and peered along the platform.
        What he saw made him shiver with panic, for boarding the train in an
        adjoining carriage was a man George recognised as being an
        accomplice of Jack the Rat on the night of the murder of James
        Robinson in the Falcon's Roost public house.
        The new passenger was dressed in the barb of a Moslem cleric.

        The inspector paid scant attention and told George he should pull
        himself together and stop imagining he was being followed.
        "I'm not imagining it" said George "I tell you that was the man I
        saw in the pub"
        "Alright" said the Inspector " I'll take a look and check him out"
        Fifteen minutes past and there was no sign of the Inspector
        returning.
        George, was visibly shaking with fear, as the door of the
        compartment opened,not by the inspector but by the stranger holding
        a Magnum 44.


        Sifting through the belongings of George and the dead inspector
        revealed nothing to suggest any motive for their demise.
        Waiting for senior police officials from The Yard, a constable
        picked up the newspaper of Inspector Willett which was opened at a
        page containing a crossword puzzle partly completed.
        The young constable decide that to while away the time he would try
        to complete the answers to the cryptic clues.
        Stuck with one particularly awkward clue he asked a colleague for
        help.
        "Okay" said the colleague"What's the clue"?
        It says "I'm into a gain with this mental image "
        "I'll tell you how I work these out" said the second onstable "It's
        obviously an anagram so make a list of all the consonants, and
        another list of the vowels.Here give it to me and I'll show you"
        He then wrote: I,A,I,A,I,O followed by M,G,N,T,N.
        " See what I mean. IMAGINATION. Simple, when you know how.
        Imagination or mental image.
        "Hang on a minute" said the first constable "That's a coincidence.
        You remember one of the passengers they interviewed was a Moslem
        cleric.
        "So what" said the second constable
        "Well, mental image is an anagram of Gentle Imam. Makes you think
        don't it"

        As always
        Wings





        --- In ticket2write@yahoogroups.com, Carol Carpenter
        <carol_emt87@y...> wrote:
        > My Imagination
        >
        >
        > I have an imagination that goes in and out with me
        >
        > And she causes me more trouble than most will ever see
        >
        > She's oh so very like me, and swirls ideas in my head
        >
        > But certain mental snapshots make me run quickly back to bed
        >
        >
        >
        > The funniest thing about her, is I cannot find the switch
        >
        > To stop my brain's enchantress or toss her in the ditch
        >
        > Many times I've tried to turn her spritely down the hall
        >
        > Sometimes when I want to write, she's not around at all
        >
        >
        >
        > She hasn't got a clue at all of how writers ought to play
        >
        > And always makes a fool of me in the most ridiculous way
        >
        > A giggle lights behind my eyes, for she hides within you see
        >
        > And when I look for her to blame, a shadow's all she'll be.
        >
        >
        >
        > One morning last semester, an essay test was looming
        >
        > The day was bright, the grass so green, and all the flowers
        blooming
        >
        > My imagination deserted me, and left me high and dry
        >
        > Creative writing test? Nah-history quest, without the muse's eye.
        >
        >
        >
        > I got an A, of course!!
        >
        >
        >
        > __________________________________________________
        > Do You Yahoo!?
        > Tired of spam? Yahoo! Mail has the best spam protection around
        > http://mail.yahoo.com
      • Carol Carpenter
        Dear Wings, Everyone needs to read your story. It s truly a lesson in how to write a descriptive narrative. From the opening line: Steam hissed like a scalded
        Message 3 of 7 , Jan 30, 2005
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          Dear Wings,
           
          Everyone needs to read your story. It's truly a lesson in how to write a descriptive narrative.
          From the opening line:  Steam hissed like a scalded cat, you grab the reader's attention. I can hear that cat screeching!
          This word:  judder, combines the movement of gelatin forced to stop and shudder--is this your own neologism?
           
          Want action, want to see rather than being told? Look through this window, not glance but stare.  George Gray lowered the window blind to shield him from the gaze of passengers on the station platform. (names right up front where they belong)
          Action on both sides of the glass. Wings doesn't tell us the train is slowing down at the station because of this or that, he shows us.
           
          Beside him, with head engrossed in a daily newspaper, sat Inspector
          Willett of the Metropolitan Crime squad, who was accompanying George...(names again--clearly stated) 
          I can almost here the crinkling and feel the ink on my fingers. He's filming a movie here, a screen play with us as the audience. Art and expertise, and of course practice and third person POV
           
          A nice little train ride? I doubt that.  What he saw made him shiver with panic, for boarding the train in an adjoining carriage was a man George recognised as being an accomplice of Jack the Rat on the night of the murder of  James Robinson in the Falcon's Roost public house. (I might have used "George shivered with panic...) The new passenger was dressed in the barb of a Moslem cleric.
          Now here's the conflict with a new interesting character. Oh, I know, I'm tearing this story down to the bones. But this is a lesson in how to write a story.
           
          Mystery clear and sharp. The inspector disappears. Oh, I gasped along with everyone else as the tension builds here. Fifteen minutes past and there was no sign of the Inspector returning. George, was visibly shaking with fear, as the door of the compartment opened,not by the inspector but by the stranger holding a Magnum 44.
           
          Now to bring everything full circle and leave us with a clue and ambiguity at the story's conclusion.
          Sifting (who's sifting?) through the belongings of George and the dead inspector revealed nothing to suggest any motive for their demise. Waiting for senior police officials from The Yard, a constable picked up the newspaper of Inspector Willett which was opened at a page containing a crossword puzzle partly completed.
           
          Yea, a word game, my favorite. Did you add that just for me? Here's the clincher.
          You remember one of the passengers they interviewed was a Moslem
          cleric.
          "So what" said the second constable
          "Well, mental image is an anagram of Gentle Imam. Makes you think
          don't it"
          Also, notice the use of "said" not flowery adjectives, in all the dialogue and see how it disappears into the story, exactly as Wings said it would. Just marvelous. Yes, I'm taking notes.
           
          Always,
          Carol





           


          wings081 <no_reply@yahoogroups.com> wrote:


          Dear Carol

          Taxing your imagination:

          Steam hissed like a scalded cat as the driver engaged the lever,
          causing the wheels to spin on the rails, until finally, with a
          judder they took hold, propelling the engine and carriages forward.
          In a first-class compartment, George Gray lowered the window blind
          to shield him from the gaze of passengers on the station platform.
          Beside him, with head engrossed in a daily newspaper, sat Inspector
          Willett of the Metropolitan Crime squad, who was accompanying George
          to a safe house pending the court case of the Crown versus John
          Greenway alias Jack the Rat.

          According to the timetable, the train was supposed to be non-stop to
          Reading so why was it slowing to an unscheduled halt at the little
          station of Twyford.?
          As the train eased to a gentle stop, George pulled aside the blind
          and peered along the platform.
          What he saw made him shiver with panic, for boarding the train in an
          adjoining carriage was a man George recognised as being an
          accomplice of Jack the Rat on the night of the murder of  James
          Robinson in the Falcon's Roost public house.
          The new passenger was dressed in the barb of a Moslem cleric.

          The inspector paid scant attention and told George he should pull
          himself together and stop imagining he was being followed.
          "I'm not imagining it" said George "I tell you that was the man I
          saw in the pub"
          "Alright" said the Inspector " I'll take a look and check him out"
          Fifteen minutes past and there was no sign of the Inspector
          returning.
          George, was visibly shaking with fear, as the door of the
          compartment opened,not by the inspector but by the stranger holding
          a Magnum 44.


          Sifting through the belongings of George and the dead inspector revealed nothing to suggest any motive for their demise. Waiting for senior police officials from The Yard, a constable picked up the newspaper of Inspector Willett which was opened at a page containing a crossword puzzle partly completed. The young constable decide that to while away the time he would try to complete the answers to the cryptic clues. Stuck with one particularly awkward clue he asked a colleague for help.
          "Okay" said the colleague"What's the clue"?
          It says "I'm into a gain with this mental image "
          "I'll tell you how I work these out" said the second onstable  "It's
          obviously an anagram so make a list of all the consonants, and
          another list of the vowels.Here give it to me and I'll show you"
          He then wrote: I,A,I,A,I,O followed by M,G,N,T,N.
          " See what I mean. IMAGINATION. Simple, when you know how.
          Imagination or mental image.
          "Hang on a minute" said the first constable "That's a coincidence.
          You remember one of the passengers they interviewed was a Moslem
          cleric.
          "So what" said the second constable
          "Well, mental image is an anagram of Gentle Imam. Makes you think
          don't it"

          As always
          Wings





          --- In ticket2write@yahoogroups.com, Carol Carpenter
          <carol_emt87@y...> wrote:
          > My Imagination

          >
          > I have an imagination that goes in and out with me
          >
          > And she causes me more trouble than most will ever see
          >
          > She's oh so very like me, and swirls ideas in my head
          >
          > But certain mental snapshots make me run quickly back to bed
          >

          >
          > The funniest thing about her, is I cannot find the switch
          >
          > To stop my brain's enchantress or toss her in the ditch
          >
          > Many times I've tried to turn her spritely down the hall
          >
          > Sometimes when I want to write, she's not around at all
          >

          >
          > She hasn't got a clue at all of how writers ought to play
          >
          > And always makes a fool of me in the most ridiculous way
          >
          > A giggle lights behind my eyes, for she hides within you see
          >
          > And when I look for her to blame, a shadow's all she'll be.
          >

          >
          > One morning last semester, an essay test was looming
          >
          > The day was bright, the grass so green, and all the flowers
          blooming
          >
          > My imagination deserted me, and left me high and dry
          >
          > Creative writing test? Nah-history quest, without the muse's eye.
          >

          >
          > I got an A, of course!!
          >

          >
          > __________________________________________________
          > Do You Yahoo!?
          > Tired of spam?  Yahoo! Mail has the best spam protection around
          > http://mail.yahoo.com


          __________________________________________________
          Do You Yahoo!?
          Tired of spam? Yahoo! Mail has the best spam protection around
          http://mail.yahoo.com

        • wings081
          Dear Carol Thank you for those kind remarks.I take on board all the points mentioned.I believe you missed one error, or more likely you were too polite to
          Message 4 of 7 , Jan 30, 2005
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            Dear Carol
            Thank you for those kind remarks.I take on board all the points
            mentioned.I believe you missed one error, or more likely you were
            too polite to mention my typo.
            The offending word is BARB which of course should read GARB,
            referring to the cleric's attire.
            I find this to be the only complaint I have against the spellcheck
            facility:It accepts all words which are spelt correctly, regardless
            of whether they make sense to the story.

            Re. Judder. I used this to demonstrate the abnormal vibration due to
            grabbing between two friction surfaces, as in the clutch of a motor
            vehicle (for those persons with stick shift not Automatic
            transmission)

            Sifting: Yes, well spotted. It would have made more sense if I had
            written:'When the local police sifted etc'

            My main objective was to include your one challenge
            word 'IMAGINATION ' by forming the anagram of 'I'm in to a gain '
            The Gentle Imam from mental image was thrown in as a bonus.

            Thanks again for your appreciation

            Great challenge and I hope others here follow.

            As always

            Wings
            --- In ticket2write@yahoogroups.com, Carol Carpenter
            <carol_emt87@y...> wrote:
            > Dear Wings,
            >
            > Everyone needs to read your story. It's truly a lesson in how to
            write a descriptive narrative.
            > From the opening line: Steam hissed like a scalded cat, you grab
            the reader's attention. I can hear that cat screeching!
            > This word: judder, combines the movement of gelatin forced to
            stop and shudder--is this your own neologism?
            >
            > Want action, want to see rather than being told? Look through this
            window, not glance but stare. George Gray lowered the window blind
            to shield him from the gaze of passengers on the station platform.
            (names right up front where they belong)
            > Action on both sides of the glass. Wings doesn't tell us the train
            is slowing down at the station because of this or that, he shows us.
            >
            > Beside him, with head engrossed in a daily newspaper, sat
            Inspector
            > Willett of the Metropolitan Crime squad, who was accompanying
            George...(names again--clearly stated)
            > I can almost here the crinkling and feel the ink on my fingers.
            He's filming a movie here, a screen play with us as the audience.
            Art and expertise, and of course practice and third person POV
            >
            > A nice little train ride? I doubt that. What he saw made him
            shiver with panic, for boarding the train in an adjoining carriage
            was a man George recognised as being an accomplice of Jack the Rat
            on the night of the murder of James Robinson in the Falcon's Roost
            public house. (I might have used "George shivered with panic...) The
            new passenger was dressed in the barb of a Moslem cleric.
            > Now here's the conflict with a new interesting character. Oh, I
            know, I'm tearing this story down to the bones. But this is a lesson
            in how to write a story.
            >
            > Mystery clear and sharp. The inspector disappears. Oh, I gasped
            along with everyone else as the tension builds here. Fifteen minutes
            past and there was no sign of the Inspector returning. George, was
            visibly shaking with fear, as the door of the compartment opened,not
            by the inspector but by the stranger holding a Magnum 44.
            >
            >
            > Now to bring everything full circle and leave us with a clue and
            ambiguity at the story's conclusion.
            > Sifting (who's sifting?) through the belongings of George and the
            dead inspector revealed nothing to suggest any motive for their
            demise. Waiting for senior police officials from The Yard, a
            constable picked up the newspaper of Inspector Willett which was
            opened at a page containing a crossword puzzle partly completed.
            >
            > Yea, a word game, my favorite. Did you add that just for me?
            Here's the clincher.
            > You remember one of the passengers they interviewed was a Moslem
            > cleric.
            > "So what" said the second constable
            > "Well, mental image is an anagram of Gentle Imam. Makes you think
            > don't it"
            > Also, notice the use of "said" not flowery adjectives, in all the
            dialogue and see how it disappears into the story, exactly as Wings
            said it would. Just marvelous. Yes, I'm taking notes.
            >
            >
            > Always,
            > Carol
            >
            >
            >
            >
            >
            >
            >
            >
            >
            >
            >
            >
            >
            > wings081 <no_reply@yahoogroups.com> wrote:
            >
            >
            > Dear Carol
            >
            > Taxing your imagination:
            >
            > Steam hissed like a scalded cat as the driver engaged the lever,
            > causing the wheels to spin on the rails, until finally, with a
            > judder they took hold, propelling the engine and carriages forward.
            > In a first-class compartment, George Gray lowered the window blind
            > to shield him from the gaze of passengers on the station platform.
            > Beside him, with head engrossed in a daily newspaper, sat
            Inspector
            > Willett of the Metropolitan Crime squad, who was accompanying
            George
            > to a safe house pending the court case of the Crown versus John
            > Greenway alias Jack the Rat.
            >
            > According to the timetable, the train was supposed to be non-stop
            to
            > Reading so why was it slowing to an unscheduled halt at the little
            > station of Twyford.?
            > As the train eased to a gentle stop, George pulled aside the blind
            > and peered along the platform.
            > What he saw made him shiver with panic, for boarding the train in
            an
            > adjoining carriage was a man George recognised as being an
            > accomplice of Jack the Rat on the night of the murder of James
            > Robinson in the Falcon's Roost public house.
            > The new passenger was dressed in the barb of a Moslem cleric.
            >
            > The inspector paid scant attention and told George he should pull
            > himself together and stop imagining he was being followed.
            > "I'm not imagining it" said George "I tell you that was the man I
            > saw in the pub"
            > "Alright" said the Inspector " I'll take a look and check him out"
            > Fifteen minutes past and there was no sign of the Inspector
            > returning.
            > George, was visibly shaking with fear, as the door of the
            > compartment opened,not by the inspector but by the stranger
            holding
            > a Magnum 44.
            >
            >
            > Sifting through the belongings of George and the dead inspector
            revealed nothing to suggest any motive for their demise. Waiting for
            senior police officials from The Yard, a constable picked up the
            newspaper of Inspector Willett which was opened at a page containing
            a crossword puzzle partly completed. The young constable decide that
            to while away the time he would try to complete the answers to the
            cryptic clues. Stuck with one particularly awkward clue he asked a
            colleague for help.
            > "Okay" said the colleague"What's the clue"?
            > It says "I'm into a gain with this mental image "
            > "I'll tell you how I work these out" said the second
            onstable "It's
            > obviously an anagram so make a list of all the consonants, and
            > another list of the vowels.Here give it to me and I'll show you"
            > He then wrote: I,A,I,A,I,O followed by M,G,N,T,N.
            > " See what I mean. IMAGINATION. Simple, when you know how.
            > Imagination or mental image.
            > "Hang on a minute" said the first constable "That's a coincidence.
            > You remember one of the passengers they interviewed was a Moslem
            > cleric.
            > "So what" said the second constable
            > "Well, mental image is an anagram of Gentle Imam. Makes you think
            > don't it"
            >
            > As always
            > Wings
            >
            >
            >
            >
            >
            > --- In ticket2write@yahoogroups.com, Carol Carpenter
            > <carol_emt87@y...> wrote:
            > > My Imagination
            > >
            > >
            > > I have an imagination that goes in and out with me
            > >
            > > And she causes me more trouble than most will ever see
            > >
            > > She's oh so very like me, and swirls ideas in my head
            > >
            > > But certain mental snapshots make me run quickly back to bed
            > >
            > >
            > >
            > > The funniest thing about her, is I cannot find the switch
            > >
            > > To stop my brain's enchantress or toss her in the ditch
            > >
            > > Many times I've tried to turn her spritely down the hall
            > >
            > > Sometimes when I want to write, she's not around at all
            > >
            > >
            > >
            > > She hasn't got a clue at all of how writers ought to play
            > >
            > > And always makes a fool of me in the most ridiculous way
            > >
            > > A giggle lights behind my eyes, for she hides within you see
            > >
            > > And when I look for her to blame, a shadow's all she'll be.
            > >
            > >
            > >
            > > One morning last semester, an essay test was looming
            > >
            > > The day was bright, the grass so green, and all the flowers
            > blooming
            > >
            > > My imagination deserted me, and left me high and dry
            > >
            > > Creative writing test? Nah-history quest, without the muse's eye.
            > >
            > >
            > >
            > > I got an A, of course!!
            > >
            > >
            > >
            > > __________________________________________________
            > > Do You Yahoo!?
            > > Tired of spam? Yahoo! Mail has the best spam protection around
            > > http://mail.yahoo.com
            >
            >
            >
            >
            >
            > __________________________________________________
            > Do You Yahoo!?
            > Tired of spam? Yahoo! Mail has the best spam protection around
            > http://mail.yahoo.com
          • Carol Carpenter
            Dear Wings, Totally missed the typo. We both know that spell check does not mean proofread. I borrow form Stephen King here. He sent a story (not sure which)
            Message 5 of 7 , Jan 30, 2005
            • 0 Attachment
              Dear Wings,
               
              Totally missed the typo. We both know that spell check does not mean proofread. I borrow form Stephen King here. He sent a story (not sure which) to the editor and the editor caught a glaring error that a spell check would miss. The line stated "We had a good morning, bagged ten peasants before heading home for lunch." What he meant to say was "pheasants" and not "peasants." Ah, the difference in that one single letter. Amazing the power of these words, this ink, and graphite.
               
              My son's a great proofreader for me. Before I turn in an assignment, I always like to print it out and go over it by hand. No Wings, I'm not suggesting you do that here. You would surely disappear in the depths of printed text.
               
              I hope other take up the gauntlet Wings. This is great fun, as always.
               
              Carol

              wings081 <no_reply@yahoogroups.com> wrote:


              Dear Carol
              Thank you for those kind remarks.I take on board all the points
              mentioned.I believe you missed one error, or more likely you were
              too polite to mention my typo.
              The offending word is BARB which of course should read GARB,
              referring to the cleric's attire.
              I find this to be the only complaint I have against the spellcheck
              facility:It accepts all words which are spelt correctly, regardless
              of whether they make sense to the story.

              Re. Judder. I used this to demonstrate the abnormal vibration due to
              grabbing between two friction surfaces, as in the clutch of a motor
              vehicle (for those persons with stick shift not Automatic
              transmission)

              Sifting: Yes, well spotted. It would have made more sense if I had
              written:'When the local police sifted etc'

              My main objective was to include your one challenge
              word 'IMAGINATION ' by forming the anagram of 'I'm in to a gain ' 
              The Gentle Imam from mental image was thrown in as a bonus.

              Thanks again for your appreciation

              Great challenge and I hope others here follow.

              As always

              Wings
              --- In ticket2write@yahoogroups.com, Carol Carpenter
              <carol_emt87@y...> wrote:
              > Dear Wings,

              > Everyone needs to read your story. It's truly a lesson in how to
              write a descriptive narrative.
              > From the opening line:  Steam hissed like a scalded cat, you grab
              the reader's attention. I can hear that cat screeching!
              > This word:  judder, combines the movement of gelatin forced to
              stop and shudder--is this your own neologism?

              > Want action, want to see rather than being told? Look through this
              window, not glance but stare.  George Gray lowered the window blind
              to shield him from the gaze of passengers on the station platform.
              (names right up front where they belong)
              > Action on both sides of the glass. Wings doesn't tell us the train
              is slowing down at the station because of this or that, he shows us.

              > Beside him, with head engrossed in a daily newspaper, sat
              Inspector
              > Willett of the Metropolitan Crime squad, who was accompanying
              George...(names again--clearly stated)
              > I can almost here the crinkling and feel the ink on my fingers.
              He's filming a movie here, a screen play with us as the audience.
              Art and expertise, and of course practice and third person POV

              > A nice little train ride? I doubt that.  What he saw made him
              shiver with panic, for boarding the train in an adjoining carriage
              was a man George recognised as being an accomplice of Jack the Rat
              on the night of the murder of  James Robinson in the Falcon's Roost
              public house. (I might have used "George shivered with panic...) The
              new passenger was dressed in the barb of a Moslem cleric.
              > Now here's the conflict with a new interesting character. Oh, I
              know, I'm tearing this story down to the bones. But this is a lesson
              in how to write a story.

              > Mystery clear and sharp. The inspector disappears. Oh, I gasped
              along with everyone else as the tension builds here. Fifteen minutes
              past and there was no sign of the Inspector returning. George, was
              visibly shaking with fear, as the door of the compartment opened,not
              by the inspector but by the stranger holding a Magnum 44.
              >

              > Now to bring everything full circle and leave us with a clue and
              ambiguity at the story's conclusion.
              > Sifting (who's sifting?) through the belongings of George and the
              dead inspector revealed nothing to suggest any motive for their
              demise. Waiting for senior police officials from The Yard, a
              constable picked up the newspaper of Inspector Willett which was
              opened at a page containing a crossword puzzle partly completed.

              > Yea, a word game, my favorite. Did you add that just for me?
              Here's the clincher.
              > You remember one of the passengers they interviewed was a Moslem
              > cleric.
              > "So what" said the second constable
              > "Well, mental image is an anagram of Gentle Imam. Makes you think
              > don't it"
              > Also, notice the use of "said" not flowery adjectives, in all the
              dialogue and see how it disappears into the story, exactly as Wings
              said it would. Just marvelous. Yes, I'm taking notes.

              >
              > Always,
              > Carol
              >
              >
              >
              >
              >
              >
              >
              >
              >
              >

              >
              >
              > wings081 <no_reply@yahoogroups.com> wrote:
              >
              >
              > Dear Carol
              >
              > Taxing your imagination:
              >
              > Steam hissed like a scalded cat as the driver engaged the lever,
              > causing the wheels to spin on the rails, until finally, with a
              > judder they took hold, propelling the engine and carriages forward.
              > In a first-class compartment, George Gray lowered the window blind
              > to shield him from the gaze of passengers on the station platform.
              > Beside him, with head engrossed in a daily newspaper, sat
              Inspector
              > Willett of the Metropolitan Crime squad, who was accompanying
              George
              > to a safe house pending the court case of the Crown versus John
              > Greenway alias Jack the Rat.
              >
              > According to the timetable, the train was supposed to be non-stop
              to
              > Reading so why was it slowing to an unscheduled halt at the little
              > station of Twyford.?
              > As the train eased to a gentle stop, George pulled aside the blind
              > and peered along the platform.
              > What he saw made him shiver with panic, for boarding the train in
              an
              > adjoining carriage was a man George recognised as being an
              > accomplice of Jack the Rat on the night of the murder of  James
              > Robinson in the Falcon's Roost public house.
              > The new passenger was dressed in the barb of a Moslem cleric.
              >
              > The inspector paid scant attention and told George he should pull
              > himself together and stop imagining he was being followed.
              > "I'm not imagining it" said George "I tell you that was the man I
              > saw in the pub"
              > "Alright" said the Inspector " I'll take a look and check him out"
              > Fifteen minutes past and there was no sign of the Inspector
              > returning.
              > George, was visibly shaking with fear, as the door of the
              > compartment opened,not by the inspector but by the stranger
              holding
              > a Magnum 44.
              >
              >
              > Sifting through the belongings of George and the dead inspector
              revealed nothing to suggest any motive for their demise. Waiting for
              senior police officials from The Yard, a constable picked up the
              newspaper of Inspector Willett which was opened at a page containing
              a crossword puzzle partly completed. The young constable decide that
              to while away the time he would try to complete the answers to the
              cryptic clues. Stuck with one particularly awkward clue he asked a
              colleague for help.
              > "Okay" said the colleague"What's the clue"?
              > It says "I'm into a gain with this mental image "
              > "I'll tell you how I work these out" said the second
              onstable  "It's
              > obviously an anagram so make a list of all the consonants, and
              > another list of the vowels.Here give it to me and I'll show you"
              > He then wrote: I,A,I,A,I,O followed by M,G,N,T,N.
              > " See what I mean. IMAGINATION. Simple, when you know how.
              > Imagination or mental image.
              > "Hang on a minute" said the first constable "That's a coincidence.
              > You remember one of the passengers they interviewed was a Moslem
              > cleric.
              > "So what" said the second constable
              > "Well, mental image is an anagram of Gentle Imam. Makes you think
              > don't it"
              >
              > As always
              > Wings
              >
              >
              >
              >
              >
              > --- In ticket2write@yahoogroups.com, Carol Carpenter
              > <carol_emt87@y...> wrote:
              > > My Imagination
              > > 
              > >
              > > I have an imagination that goes in and out with me
              > >
              > > And she causes me more trouble than most will ever see
              > >
              > > She's oh so very like me, and swirls ideas in my head
              > >
              > > But certain mental snapshots make me run quickly back to bed
              > >
              > > 
              > >
              > > The funniest thing about her, is I cannot find the switch
              > >
              > > To stop my brain's enchantress or toss her in the ditch
              > >
              > > Many times I've tried to turn her spritely down the hall
              > >
              > > Sometimes when I want to write, she's not around at all
              > >
              > > 
              > >
              > > She hasn't got a clue at all of how writers ought to play
              > >
              > > And always makes a fool of me in the most ridiculous way
              > >
              > > A giggle lights behind my eyes, for she hides within you see
              > >
              > > And when I look for her to blame, a shadow's all she'll be.
              > >
              > > 
              > >
              > > One morning last semester, an essay test was looming
              > >
              > > The day was bright, the grass so green, and all the flowers
              > blooming
              > >
              > > My imagination deserted me, and left me high and dry
              > >
              > > Creative writing test? Nah-history quest, without the muse's eye.
              > >
              > > 
              > >
              > > I got an A, of course!!
              > >
              > > 
              > >
              > > __________________________________________________
              > > Do You Yahoo!?
              > > Tired of spam?  Yahoo! Mail has the best spam protection around
              > > http://mail.yahoo.com
              >
              >
              >
              >
              >
              > __________________________________________________
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              > Tired of spam?  Yahoo! Mail has the best spam protection around
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            • John
              I tend not to like light hearted poems, or rhyming ones, so maybe I can t contribute much to this. However it is something all creative writers would
              Message 6 of 7 , Jan 31, 2005
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                I tend not to like light hearted poems, or rhyming ones, so maybe I
                can't contribute much to this. However it is something all creative
                writers would recognise, and it is amusing how illusive the muse can
                be! Have you heard the standard jazz song Imagination, especially
                sung by Chet Baker? "Imagination is funny / it makes a cloudy day
                sunny / makes a bee think of honey…." Light words for such a sad
                song.

                --- In ticket2write@yahoogroups.com, Carol Carpenter
                <carol_emt87@y...> wrote:
                > My Imagination
                >
                >
                > I have an imagination that goes in and out with me
                >
                > And she causes me more trouble than most will ever see
                >
                > She's oh so very like me, and swirls ideas in my head
                >
                > But certain mental snapshots make me run quickly back to bed
                >
                >
                >
                > The funniest thing about her, is I cannot find the switch
                >
                > To stop my brain's enchantress or toss her in the ditch
                >
                > Many times I've tried to turn her spritely down the hall
                >
                > Sometimes when I want to write, she's not around at all
                >
                >
                >
                > She hasn't got a clue at all of how writers ought to play
                >
                > And always makes a fool of me in the most ridiculous way
                >
                > A giggle lights behind my eyes, for she hides within you see
                >
                > And when I look for her to blame, a shadow's all she'll be.
                >
                >
                >
                > One morning last semester, an essay test was looming
                >
                > The day was bright, the grass so green, and all the flowers
                blooming
                >
                > My imagination deserted me, and left me high and dry
                >
                > Creative writing test? Nah-history quest, without the muse's eye.
                >
                >
                >
                > I got an A, of course!!
                >
                >
                >
                > __________________________________________________
                > Do You Yahoo!?
                > Tired of spam? Yahoo! Mail has the best spam protection around
                > http://mail.yahoo.com
              • Carol Carpenter
                Dear John, I will look into that song. My poem was actually a commutation of Robert Louis Stevenson s poem My Shadow . And my imagination does run amuck at
                Message 7 of 7 , Jan 31, 2005
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                  Dear John,
                   
                  I will look into that song. My poem was actually a commutation of Robert Louis Stevenson's poem "My Shadow". And my imagination does run amuck at times with images no rational person should ever visualize. I suppose my relentless imagination couple with my insatiable curiousity are good tools for this writer. Thank you for commenting, as always.
                  Carol

                  John <brightasafig@...> wrote:


                  I tend not to like light hearted poems, or rhyming ones, so maybe I
                  can't contribute much to this. However it is something all creative
                  writers would recognise, and it is amusing how illusive the muse can
                  be! Have you heard the standard jazz song Imagination, especially
                  sung by Chet Baker? "Imagination is funny / it makes a cloudy day
                  sunny / makes a bee think of honey�." Light words for such a sad
                  song.

                  --- In ticket2write@yahoogroups.com, Carol Carpenter
                  <carol_emt87@y...> wrote:
                  > My Imagination

                  >
                  > I have an imagination that goes in and out with me
                  >
                  > And she causes me more trouble than most will ever see
                  >
                  > She's oh so very like me, and swirls ideas in my head
                  >
                  > But certain mental snapshots make me run quickly back to bed
                  >

                  >
                  > The funniest thing about her, is I cannot find the switch
                  >
                  > To stop my brain's enchantress or toss her in the ditch
                  >
                  > Many times I've tried to turn her spritely down the hall
                  >
                  > Sometimes when I want to write, she's not around at all
                  >

                  >
                  > She hasn't got a clue at all of how writers ought to play
                  >
                  > And always makes a fool of me in the most ridiculous way
                  >
                  > A giggle lights behind my eyes, for she hides within you see
                  >
                  > And when I look for her to blame, a shadow's all she'll be.
                  >

                  >
                  > One morning last semester, an essay test was looming
                  >
                  > The day was bright, the grass so green, and all the flowers
                  blooming
                  >
                  > My imagination deserted me, and left me high and dry
                  >
                  > Creative writing test? Nah-history quest, without the muse's eye.
                  >

                  >
                  > I got an A, of course!!
                  >

                  >
                  > __________________________________________________
                  > Do You Yahoo!?
                  > Tired of spam?  Yahoo! Mail has the best spam protection around
                  > http://mail.yahoo.com








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