An Odd Little Story

 

Not really them! For display purposes only.

🌹🤍🌹

         “I was talking to Toots tonight,” said Suzy.

        “Oh! I never can figure out how you do that,” said Willie, “and what you two have to discuss is a mystery to me!”
        “Well, when I am sitting around with my eyes closed, sometimes she tells me stuff and I tell her stuff,” said Suzy. “You could do it too.”
        “Well, what’s the PowerPurr news tonight?” He was half listening.
        “People keep talking about odd little stories. We got to wondering what makes them odd. Why aren’t they even little stories?” said Suzy. “There is quite a bit to being odd, as you will see shortly, Willie!”

odd (adj.)
c. 1300, odde, "constituting a unit in excess of an even number," from Old Norse oddi "third or additional number," as in odda-maðr "third man, odd man (who gives the casting vote)," odda-tala "odd number." The literal meaning of Old Norse oddi is "point of land, angle" (related via notion of "triangle" to oddr "point of a weapon"); from Proto-Germanic *uzdaz "pointed upward" (source also of Old English ord "point of a weapon, spear, source, beginning," Old Frisian ord "point, place," Dutch oord "place, region," Old High German ort "point, angle," German Ort "place"), from PIE *uzdho- (source also of Lithuanian us-nis "thistle"). None of the other languages, however, shows the Old Norse development from "point" to "third number." Used from late 14c. to indicate a surplus over any given sum.
Sense of "strange, peculiar" first attested 1580s from notion of "odd one out, unpaired one of three" (attested earlier, c. 1400, as "singular" in a positive sense of "renowned, rare, choice"). An odd job "casual, disconnected piece of work" (1728) is so called from notion of "not regular." Odd lot "incomplete or random set" is from 1897. The international order of Odd Fellows began as local social clubs in England, late 18c., with Masonic-type trappings; formally organized 1813 in Manchester, England.

        “In view of all of that, I think the word I would use to describe some of her stories is “gnomish.” Suzy smiled pedantically. “That would definitely be odd, right?” Willie groaned a little.
        “She’s only written one story about a gnome Suzy!” countered Willie. He was thinking of Zaar of course. Zaar was definitely a gnome.
        “But, the point is that we were trying to even imagine what an even story could possibly be like,” said Suzy with wide eyes.
        “Listen, this is what Toots told me…”

even (adj.)
Old English efen "level," also "equal, like; calm, harmonious; equally; quite, fully; namely," from Proto-Germanic *ebna- (source also of Old Saxon eban, Old Frisian even "level, plain, smooth," Dutch even, Old High German eban, German eben, Old Norse jafn, Danish jævn, Gothic ibns). The adverb is Old English efne "exactly, just, likewise." Modern adverbial sense (introducing an extreme case of something more generally implied) seems to have arisen 16c. from use of the word to emphasize identity ("Who, me?" "Even you").
Etymologists are uncertain whether the original sense was "level" or "alike." Used extensively in Old English compounds, with a sense of "fellow, co-" (as in efeneald "of the same age;" Middle English even-sucker "foster-brother"). Of numbers, from 1550s. Sense of "on an equal footing" is from 1630s. Rhyming reduplication phrase even steven is attested from 1866; even break (n.) first recorded 1907. Even-tempered from 1712. To get even with "retaliate upon" is attested by 1833.

        “Do you see what the literary problem is,” asked Suzy.
        “Perhaps a story begins as an odd one, and then becomes even when the problems are solved and everyone is eating dinner together,” said Willie hopefully.
        “I think if you wrote an even story nothing would ever happen! There would be no question to be answered, no adventure to be lived through!” said Suzy. “It would be like going outside and looking at the garden, if you had one, or the night sky. Everything would stack up together with no motion!” She shuddered delicately.
        “It sounds like you prefer drama to happiness Suzy,” said Willie. “I think happiness is quite even in most cases. Perhaps this highlights one of the flaws of literature little sister. If it were only observational it would be too quiet, too even. But happiness often is quiet. Instead, literature dwells on requirements and troubles.”
        “I like happiness,” said Suzy. “But life is often full of odd little moments which must be dealt with. Sometimes I have to run as fast as I can to even up the score!”
        “Then you must decide which is more important. Is it to be a good ripping yarn, or a warm beautiful moment of now, with a good dinner, no scary noises, and a good long nap?” Willie smiled. “This seems to be related to the possibly spurious notion that all happy families are alike, hence, boring.”
        “I like that kind of boring,” said Suzy. “Toots just told me she likes it too and that she thinks you are pretty smart for a bossy big brother!”
        “I think Toots is pretty smart too. Tell her that and say hi to Sammie too,” said Willie.
        Suzy closed her eyes, with a little smile, enjoying the moment in that feline way that they do.