The Door
by Jace Daniel (b. 1969)

There once was a door in a stuffy room. Hanging on hinges, this door’s job was to open the stuffy room up to the outside world. This outside world was full of wonderful, vibrant things, both known and unknown, and the door enjoyed its job very much.

And this stuffy room was full of people, big and small, young and old. These people would open the door, curious, fascinated, inspired, peeking out from the stuffy room, allowing fresh air in from the outside world. When the people found the fresh air to be an interference in their affairs, they became angry with the door.

“This door needs to be fixed,” they would say. “It’s letting fresh air and wonderful smells into our room. It’s interfering with our affairs, and it’s making us very uncomfortable.”

And they would close the door.

Before long, the people would open the door again, curious, fascinated, inspired, peeking out from the stuffy room, allowing the bright light in from the outside world. When the people found the bright light to be an interference in their affairs, they became angry with the door.

“This door needs to be fixed,” they would say. “It’s letting bright light and vibrant colors into our room. It’s interfering with our affairs, and it’s making us very uncomfortable.”

And they would close the door.

This would happen again, and again, and again, and over time, the hinges of the door began to creak from years of use. And the people in the stuffy room became angry with the door.

“You need to be fixed,” they told the door. “First, you let fresh air and wonderful smells into our room. Then, you let bright light and vibrant colors into our room. And now, you’re making too much noise in our room. You’re interfering with our affairs, and you’re making us very uncomfortable. How dare you call yourself part of this room?”

And so the door slammed.

Compare to this.

I love this guy. He’s three years old, aptly named Killer. At the Light House Cafe in Hermosa Beach CA, catching some ripping live jazz on a Sunday afternoon.

You wouldn’t believe the stories he was telling after a few Black & Tans.

“People say, ‘What does it mean?’ That’s what it means. It would be a bad thing if I could explain the tale better than what I have already said in the tale.”
— Isak Dineson

The Wind Continued to Blow
by Jace Daniel (b. 1969)

There once was a wind blowing across the sea. It eventually reached the coast, and continued to blow across the surface of the land. Before long, the wind met happiness. And happiness tried to stop the wind.

“Stop for a second,” said happiness. “I’m very happy, and I want to tell you all about it.”

“Sorry,” said the wind. “I’ve got other things to do. I don’t understand what you’re talking about, and it makes no difference to me.”

And the wind continued to blow. Before too long, the wind met anger. And anger tried to stop the wind.

“Stop for a second,” said anger. “I’m very angry, and I want to tell you all about it.”

“Sorry,” said the wind. “I’ve got other things to do. I don’t understand what you’re talking about, and it makes no difference to me.”

And the wind continued to blow. Before too very long, the wind met sadness. And sadness tried to stop the wind.

“Stop for a second,” said sadness. “I’m very sad, and I want to tell you all about it.”

“Sorry,” said the wind. “I’ve got other things to do. I don’t understand what you’re talking about, and it makes no difference to me.”

And the wind continued to blow.

Trippy. I was just talking shop with an English teacher the other night, and the subject of gerunds came up.

Are you using them correctly?

A gerund is a present participle used as a noun. The word itself means “to bear” or “to carry on.” In English, gerunds end in -ing. Being a noun, a gerund can be used as (1) the subject of a verb {complaining about it won’t help}; (2) the object of a verb {I don’t like your cooking}; (3) a predicate nominative or complement {his favorite hobby is sleeping}; or (4) the object of a preposition {reduce erosion by terracing the fields}. Seems pretty straightforward…but read on and see if you are using gerunds correctly in your writing.

A noun (or more commonly a pronoun) followed by a gerund may take the possessive form in contexts where, if a pronoun was used, it would be in the possessive case. This practice, elegant if followed appropriately, requires caution. In the first two examples below, the possessive form is clearly needed.

• Stuart’s revealing his feelings about the venue resulted in some light laughter.
• Matthew’s assuming the role of husband impressed the crowd of well-wishers.

In the following three examples, the possessive form (given in parentheses) might sound pedantic to some. In the fourth, however, use of the pronoun their is unlikely to seem so.

• He was worried about his daughter (or daughter’s) going there alone.
• I won’t put up with Jefferson and Franklin (or Jefferson’s and Franklin’s) being denigrated.
• The problem of authors (or authors’) finding the right publisher can be solved.

but

• The problem of their finding the right publisher can be solved.

In the following two examples, where “Kate” and “Guests” could not be replaced by “her” and “Their,” the possessive would clearly be incorrect.

• We listened to Kate singing a solo.
• Guests wishing to park in the grocer’s lot next door can expect a visit by the tow truck.

Sources: Merriam-Webster 11th Collegiate Dictionary, Chicago Manual of Style.

“He who sleeps in continual noise is wakened by silence.”
— William Dean Howells, Pordenone, Act IV

*WARNING*: Graphic, but worth it. A dog in Chile is mortally wounded while trying to cross a busy highway. What his buddy does after that is simply out of this world.