Inventing Vermit

From the earliest days writers have invented words. Two of the masters in this art were Shakespeare and Dr. Seuss. I should, of course, add Lewis Carroll. Those who live by the word, die by the word. It seems only fair that they should help create their own means of execution.

My writing partner Fantasia and I like to discuss words we’ve invented. I pepper them into my stories, and since publishers tend to eschew truly creative works, most of the heat is felt by me alone. It’s truly sad, because, in the most modest way possible, I like to think that some of those words add flavor as well as heat.

Some time ago I began keeping a list of invented words I’d used, or intended to use. Since my stories are about as likely to see publication as the Whig party is to win in 2016, it seems fitting to share a few of my favorites.

One class of made up word I use is the modified real word. An example of this occurs in my story “Initiating an Apocalypse” where the word “toiletal” occurs. I do hope to get this story published some day, as it is quite fun, but at least three publishers disagree with me on that point. Flunt.

The meaning of the majority of my invented words remains with me, however, and reading them in context, like a good philologist, will clarify their function. Younce, jorg, twost, ascleir, and tuckle are examples. Of course, some of them may have been invented before, but I’ve never read them.

Publishers fear what they can’t understand. Writers invent vermit. Who are the really creative ones here?

Comments

Dusty

My, this thing is dusty. My fans—hi, Mom!—perhaps believe me to have perished in the pandemic. No, it was nonfiction’s fault. Since the pandemic began I’ve had two nonfiction books published and have written a third. With a nine-to-five job something’s got to give. Unfortunately it’s been fiction. Well, the groundhog didn’t see his shadow yesterday, so it must be safe to come out. I shuffled away the rejection notes and began submitting again. I’ve got a backlog of weird stories and maybe some new publishers have emerged? The thing is, don’t you just hate it when you’re in the mood to submit and some lit journal has its window for submissions firmly shut? My last story, “ The Hput, ” was published about three years ago. Oh, I’ve submitted since then, but with no traction. Well, it is winter. I’ve got a lot of stories lined up. I’ve been sending them out again, dreaming of making a dime at what I love doing best. When you’ve been writing for half a century, you l

Too Much Writing?

Has this ever happened to you? Have you written a story that you’ve completely forgot? Not only completely forgotten, but made unfindable? I play games with my stories and sometimes the joke’s on me. Okay, I suffer from graphomania. I write constantly. I do try to keep organized—I use a spreadsheet that has all my submissions on it. It has rejection/acceptance dates (mostly rejection). Lots of information. I decided to list on it every story, whether finished or in process. There are far too many (mostly in process). When I finish a story I often submit it. If I get burned, I’m shy about resubmitting. I often rewrite at this stage. Then, when I feel brave enough, I try again. The spreadsheet is color-coded. There, in the color that indicates finished and ready to submit is a story cryptically titled “The Password.” I don’t remember this story. I can’t recall what it was about or why I thought it was ready to publish. Looking through my electronic files,

Neglectful Parents

If I was a parent I’d be accused of neglect. I have to say 2017 was the least published year of recent memory. Not that I’ve been neglecting my fiction, but I had a non-fiction book accepted and I work full-time and commute to that job—you get the picture. I’ve also had a personal epiphany. If you can write, you should get paid for it. I know a publicist (not my own; I don’t have one) and she says she won’t let her authors even write an op-ed if they don’t get paid. I guess I’d never get published then. My Medusa novel had a flicker of hope for a few moments. A publisher actually wrote back asking for the rest of the manuscript. That’s never happened before. Then the editor disappeared. Even called me by the wrong pseudonym. I’ve gotta wonder about that because the second half of the novel’s even better than the first. While looking for an agent for my non-fiction (couldn’t find one of those either) I came across several who said they liked quirky ficti

K. Marvin Bruce

Search This Blog