Tom Tucker

BIO
Tom Tucker earned a degree in History from CSUN. With parchment in hand, he uttered the words Robert Redford said in The Candidate: “What do I do now?”

Through a happy happenstance, he was hired by Sperry Univac as a technical writer. Thirty years later, Tom can look back on a satisfying career in the technical documentation field. Now going from a paying writing career to the dicier one of ‘creative writing,’ he writes poetry and is at work on a fantasy novel.

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READ THE WORK

Slighly Skewed: It's Latin or Something
by Tom Tucker

Long ago, when the Alameda Writers Group was just starting, one of the founding fathers, Mike Hayward, started up the newsletter, known as "The Working Title." On the banner could be found the following statement: "Our Motto - It's Latin or Something."

Now, for most members it was just a cutesy little blurb to give the impression that we had been around for awhile when, actually, we were brand new. The trouble is, in my Slightly Skewed way of looking at things, I felt we really could use a Latin motto - if for no other reason than to impose a bit of gravitas upon all our proceedings.

I then did a bit of research and uncovered what I thought to be the ideal motto for a struggling group of writers. It was: Furore Scribende, which translates to "A Rage for Writing." There, now doesn't that make us all feel better?

For all you historians out there keeping score, I did present this to Mike and he promptly ignored it. For good or ill, he felt that what was on the banner head was fine and didn't need to be changed. Somewhat miffed, I did not press for the change until now. I'm not advocating that we adopt the Latin motto, rather that it should serve as a reminder when we write: to write with a passion, so to present the unique view we writers can provide to others.
So, get ready, get set - Rage!

Here follows one of my rages.

HOVE INTO HARBOR

We hove into harbor before darkness fell
to lie snug at anchor and dream
on the rocking waves.

The augur traced the entrails
and sent smoke ascendant to the heavens
but evoked only a blurred vision -
filled with wraiths and specters.

We watched the clouds mount
and avoided sailing under Thor's
mighty anvil;

Sparks so struck from his hammer
would burn the masts of an armada
as if they were a dry forest.

We felt the wind to our backs
and from the mainmast's vantage
scanned the horizon for the brown line
marking the shores of home.

So go ventures to sea, seeking that which beckons
and gaining splendid spoils,
we then turn to the haven we have carved
from the forbidding rock
to await the call of the sail.

Copyright (c) 2004 by Thomas C. Tucker
Enjoy. Furore Scribende.