Harry Potter Tent

As I think constantly about writing, even when I am not writing, random thoughts often pop into my head. Here’s a sampling.

I have a tent. It is a two person tent and somewhat sentimental since it was the very first piece of camping equipment that was all mine and shiny new. That was over a decade ago now, but for one glorious summer I lived in that tent in adult summer camp, (AKA as a research assistant). A couple days ago, I set it up in the sunroom for Sabrina to play in. Little did I know that in the years since I had set it up, it had acquired a musty, pee smell. Don’t ask me where this smell came from since it has always been stored in a dry place and I don’t make a habit of peeing on or in my tents. However this smell has pervaded the sunroom and makes me completely glad I’m not obligated to sleep in the tent. It also brings to mind the tent in Harry Potter that is described as smelling of cat pee. The description passed over me at the time as something of little concern, but after having minimal contact with my own pee tent, I refuse to buy the idea that anyone could have happily cloistered themselves in a pee tent for any length of time. I’ll bet you it wasn’t “you know who” or horcruxes making them cranky, but the constant smell of cat pee. So if you are a writer, be careful about what smells you subject your characters to and be sure they react properly.

Next random thought: I am listening to Elizabeth Gaskell’s book, Wives and Daughters. There is a character who used to pride herself on her very pretty blushes. In fact, if you read literature of bygone eras, blushes were then often praised as a woman’s booty-liciousness is praised now. In modern literature a blush has been reduced to an embarrassing reddening of the face and is not considered an asset. Why is that? Well, I blame makeup. Between cover up and rouge, the only blushes that would be visible would be the ones from extreme embarrassment that would bring the blush right up into the ears. The last time I blushed like that was after doing something completely stupid and it was definitely not a “pretty” moment or result. So, moral of the story: Blushes are dead (so don’t write about them) and Booty-liciousness is in (so round out your prose to your heart’s content.)

Well, writing randomness is at an end. Happy writing or tweeting or facebooking or whatever.