Treat with extreme caution

I write just like HG Wells. Honest. I’ve got the certificate here:

I write like
H. G. Wells

I Write Like. Analyze your writing!

I also write exactly like Kurt Vonnegut, L.Frank Baum ( who he ?) and Dan Brown ! Dan Brown ! Just think of all those dreadful books I’m going to write! Just think of the money!

Of course, it’s another algorithm. A not-very-good algorithm. You paste in your story and …bingo ! You get a very flattering reply. Your writing is always like some giant of literature and never the football reporter on ” The Daily Filth.”

The Poetry Assessor has some minimal value. This one is just a bit of fun.

I put this piece in just to see what InstaCritic made of it.

You might recognise it.

Now is the winter of our discontent
Made glorious summer by this sun of York;
And all the clouds that lour’d upon our house
In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.
Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths;
Our bruised arms hung up for monuments;
Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings,
Our dreadful marches to delightful measures.
Grim-visaged war hath smooth’d his wrinkled front;
And now, instead of mounting barded steeds
To fright the souls of fearful adversaries,
He capers nimbly in a lady’s chamber
To the lascivious pleasing of a lute.

Could it, by any chance, be William Shakespeare ? Absolutely not. The speech you have just read was written by ….drumroll maestro,please…

I write like
James Joyce

I Write Like. Analyze your writing!

Who would have thunk it, eh ?

If you want to have a look for yourself, then the site is here. Fun for all the family

http://iwl.me/

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The day I beat Sylvia Plath at writing poetry

images

Literary criticism is over. Finito. No more explanations of ” The Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner”
(it’s about a bird, stupid.) No more tortured dissections of Gerard Manley-Hopkins.

Because literary criticism is now objective.

I came across this on the Poetry Society website the other day.

http://www.poetryassessor.com/poetry/

It is, of course, an algorithm. It’s an attempt to place any piece of poetry on a spectrum which has “professional” at one end and “ amateur” at the other. Copy your poem and paste it into the box, press the button and….you’ve got a score. Anything plus is in the professional range, anything in the minus,logically, is at the amateur end.

Obviously, there are problems- distinguishing professional from amateur being the first. The authors of this piece of research took a selection of modern, unpublished works and called them “ amateur” – the professional collection came from a selection of poetry magazines.

All the poems chosen were modern, so you can’t try out a chunk of “ Hamlet” to see how Shakespeare scored.

And what criteria did they set ? Rhyme and rhythm were important and, interestingly, perfect rhyme came out as an amateur indicator.

Complexity of vocabulary was important- the nature of nouns used – abstract or concrete. Concrete vocabulary was a professional trait; amateurs took refuge in woolly abstracts. The number of letters and syllables was also significant, as was the “ ease of definition “ – I’m not sure what that means but I suspect they’re talking about the use of ambiguity, double meaning.

Sylvia Plath’s “ Crossing the Water” scored 2.53.
Professional.

I had to have a go, didn’t I ? This is the poem I copied into the text box

Landscape

Shifting light
luminous opaque
everything provisional-
the hills tentative
the valley bottoms
indistinct uncertain
still settling into shape

Then,immersed in sunlight,
the day develops,
fixes the eye.
Stone walls grow
a coat of green velvet;
purple moors shake themselves
into a quilt, and in the village
a church spire’s shadow points
the way to sunset and the west.

And the score ? Only 3.9. Not bad eh ?

Of course the whole thing is nothing more than a bit of fun. Sylvia Plath is ten times the poet I am- and poetry, thank goodness, will always be intensely personal, passionate and elusive.

Still…3.9..

Have a go yourself and let me know how you get on.