Saturday, 21 August 2010

Ten made-up words to be used in a piece of writing

One interesting and amusing exercise that I've picked up from George Szirtes' wonderful blog is to quickly invent ten words and pass them on. The one who picks them up has then to make a readable text using the words. Shortly after midnight on my way to the Land of Nod I quickly jotted down ten such words, went to sleep, forgot about them. This morning I found them and passed them on to my self as it were. And so after a cup of strong coffee to get my brain working I wrote, in ten minutes or so, a piece of text that came easily into my mind. Here it is. See what you make of it.


Lord Heinrich von Scrumble shook the last drops of plinkton from his noyder, examined the organ closely and then tucked it away gently. He quietly zipped-up his kasderoons, washed his hands, shook them under the cold air of the plosklash machine, flung open the door and strode boldly into the corridor. His progress was immediately arrested.

The man's grip on his elbow was firm. The strong voice said, "Sir, your ticket please." It was the masnerat.

"By jingo, sir" exclaimed his lordship, turning flenny and clutching his chest, "you surprised me there, my yetamalt just missed a loopig."

"Don't give me all that twaddle and oink, I've heard it all before. Your sort are always hiding in the nedglim reckoning to be having a piouz. Now where's your ticket?"

Lord Heinrich von Scrumble reached into his inside pocket and produced a small card. Focusing on the script held closely under his nose the masnerat commenced to read:



Now here's my challenge:-
Using the same 10 made-up words, give them new meanings, and quickly write a 250 word or thereabouts mini-story of your own.

1)- Jinksy quick as my nedglim braves the 10 word challenge. Her illuminating and Carrollesque story will be found under Comments.


  1. This is a mini version,too small to post!

    In the far off town of Plinkton, deep in the noyder Kaderoons, a flenny masnerat sat in the bushes, feeling slightly loopig. In the nedglim light of his lantern, he watched plosklash creatures of the night zoom around above his head. He was wishing he was still at home with a flagon of yetamalt in front of him, and his piouz woman snuggled up at his side.

  2. jinksy,

    People bow to Lewis Carrol but this is top-drawer stuff. The 250 words was just my arbitary upper-limit. You've nutshelled thing. That's the genius! I love it.

    So, here now is the point: What does an exercise like this tell us about words?

  3. It tells us that we don't have to stick to only the tried and tested ones, provided the 'oddballs' are incorporated in an already accepted language format.
    I think you may have missed
    THIS earlier post of mine... Enjoy!

  4. May you always shake the last drop of plinkton from your noyder and keep it firmly tucked away in your kasderoons.

    Words that could change the world.

  5. Firmly was just a figure of speech.

  6. Blame jinksy that I'm here.

    Okay, I'll try one:

    The silver plinkton glistened in the noyder as Terence Grimble added a few kashderoons to his plosklash.

    “Damn,” said Grimble. “I forgot to bring my masnerat.”

    “Don’t fret,” said his Marla, his flenny. She wiped her brow as the yetamalt reddened in the growing twilight. It will soon be loopig and you will forget all about your masnerat after we nedglim until pious

  7. Correction:

    "It will soon be...until pious."

  8. This actually happened during a recent performance of "The Tempest" - a famous play by some geezer called Spokeshave . . . well, something like that.

    When Prospero couldnae hear ra prompt right. Right?

    “Our piouz now are ended. These our actors
    As I foretold you, were all spirits and
    “Speak up, man!” into air, into thin air:
    And, like the nedglim noyder of this plinkton,
    The cloud-capp'd plosklash, the gorgeous kaderoons,
    The flenny temples, the great globe itself,
    “When this is over, prompt, I’ll whack you one!”
    And, like this insubstantial loopig faded,
    Leave not a yetamalt. We are such stuff
    As masnerat is, and that feckin’ prompt
    Is clearly half asleep”

  9. Wonderful wonderful stuff! It makes me smile. It makes me happy. I thank you all.

  10. I have made a glifferous bedanquist Grimble's flenny, Marla, obviously wiped his brown, not her own.


    What is there to do with life other than make a nonsense of it?

    Your Word Verification is PROFFA so I'm proffaring this!

  12. GW, what have you done? The seeds of the nomblywort plant are taking root all over Blogland! Did you realise, when you cultivated it, that this might be the result? Why, I even found a seedling in my soup!

  13. Hahaha, you are all very clever.
    "So, here now is the point: What does an exercise like this tell us about words?" asked the Poet in Residence. I tell you what it told me. Spelling is difficult. I have never seen so many versions of the word kaderoons, kashderoons, kasderoons ;-)

  14. Hello Rinkly, thanks for the visit from Down Under, I liked your 10-word nonsense poem, so now it's full steam to your didgieridoo...
    the best of bardic and all that nonsense, gwilym

  15. jinksy, thanks for the Fridge Soup link. It's as tasty as mulligatawny

  16. Hi Carolina, maybe this tells us that Blogger's ABC spell-checker is now defunct :) sore what is spelling anyway - there's a strang way of spelling 'fish' which begins with ph... but I just can't rewind it at the monument. We shem toby al mo sin Finnegans Wake territorium ear and dare as high seas hit.

  17. P-i-r, you're thinking of George Bernard Shaw's example of how English spelling could be simplified:

    ghoti = fish

    Just pronounce the gh as in enough, the o as in women, and the ti as in nation.

  18. Thanks rwp.
    It's really amazing though, only a few minutes ago somebody doing a crossword puzzle asked me for the name of an Irish poet with 4 letters beginning with S and ending with W. Coincidence, or what?
    Much obliged to you.


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