What's playing on the ipod: Bonny Swan, Loreena McKennitt
Our seasonal employee from Chile left yesterday, another signal of the winding down of the ski season. She was a lot quieter than the other students we've had from South America. Not so good for my Spanish. We'd probably speak three or four sentences in Spanish and three or four in English each day. Unlike the others, she preferred English, but English conversations were somewhat labored, so if we hit any topic in-depth, it invariably switched to Spanish when she ran out of words.
Last summer, after spending several weeks in Costa Rica and Mexico and having Mexican and Honduran laborers renting some of the efficiencies for several months, my Spanish was as strong as it has ever been. It's frustrating to slip back a bit, even if I would be the only one to notice.
It's interesting how some skills atrophy and others are easily reclaimed. There's the famous bicycle, of course. I tested this one myself. I went about a dozen years without riding a bicicyle, from the time I was about fourteen to when I went to Thailand and rented a bike to ride around the ruins of Sukhothai. I was wobbly for about five minutes, but after that had no trouble. I ride once or twice a year and that's enough to keep me in form.
Picking up the trumpet again after many years was odd. My fingers still remembered their paces--or would, with little practice--while my lips had turned to Jello. I had about half an octave of range. I have no idea how much time would be necessary to bring my skills to their previous (mediocre) level, but I'm guessing several months of practice.
How about writing? The longest I've gone was probably eight or ten months, but I didn't notice any deterioration. My friend Grant once told me that he seemed to improve over time even if he hadn't been writing. I think this was about ten years ago, and there's a maturation that continues well into adulthood for a writer, as we learn new skills, broaden our understanding of human nature, etc. There's also reading, which gives a passive boost to one's writing. He might not say the same thing now, I don't know. In any event, I'm sure that if I stopped writing for a couple of years, I'd be a weaker writer. The question is, how much weaker?
Saturday, March 31, 2007
Friday, March 30, 2007
NYC Stuff
What's playing on the ipod: Fortress Around Your Heart, Sting
I'm headed down to New York next week. I'm a little dismayed to see that it's supposed to be unusually cold during my visit, but I'm still excited. In addition to meeting up with my agent, I'm hoping to do a couple of New Yorkish things that have previously eluded me, such as seeing the Empire State Building and catching a Broadway show. Of course, I always like to see Central Park. I'm even looking forward to the long train ride, so much quieter and more relaxing than flying, listening to the ipod and reading. I'd bought two books for the trip (the aforementioned Hiaasen book and a book by fellow Backspace and Trident writer Allison Brennan), but it doesn't look like either of them will make it. I'm still in the early stages of Allison's book, but it's fun. Reminds me a little of Lisa Gardner.
I'm headed down to New York next week. I'm a little dismayed to see that it's supposed to be unusually cold during my visit, but I'm still excited. In addition to meeting up with my agent, I'm hoping to do a couple of New Yorkish things that have previously eluded me, such as seeing the Empire State Building and catching a Broadway show. Of course, I always like to see Central Park. I'm even looking forward to the long train ride, so much quieter and more relaxing than flying, listening to the ipod and reading. I'd bought two books for the trip (the aforementioned Hiaasen book and a book by fellow Backspace and Trident writer Allison Brennan), but it doesn't look like either of them will make it. I'm still in the early stages of Allison's book, but it's fun. Reminds me a little of Lisa Gardner.
Thursday, March 29, 2007
A Sense of Place
What's playing on the ipod: Spirit in the Sky, Norman Greenbaum
I'm just finishing my Carl Hiaasen book and one thing that is top-shelf about his novels is the sense of place he brings to the story. I've only been to Florida twice, both times to Disneyworld, yet after reading one of his novels feel like I really know Florida. An illusion, of course, but it's one I happily enjoy.
While I have stated before that I need a good plot and characters to keep me interested in a book, a sense of place might just come in third. I love to explore an unusual setting. It's something that draws me to historical fiction, or to stories set in exotic worlds. I try to do this with the desert, polygamist community of Blister Creek in The Righteous, and its why The Atlantic bought my story about Morocco. For my next book, much of which takes place in a facility for the mental retarded, I want to capture the chemical-over-shit smell of the bathrooms that I remember, the prison-like feel of the facility, and the fluorescent stillness of the night shift.
A weak sense of place is something that leaves me cold in some modern thrillers. They're all about the plot and the pacing, and so they forget how powerfully a sense of place can drag you into the story. And it doesn't take much wordage either, just a carefully chosen phrase here and a sentence or two there. It takes far less space than developing character, for example, or a single subplot.
I'm just finishing my Carl Hiaasen book and one thing that is top-shelf about his novels is the sense of place he brings to the story. I've only been to Florida twice, both times to Disneyworld, yet after reading one of his novels feel like I really know Florida. An illusion, of course, but it's one I happily enjoy.
While I have stated before that I need a good plot and characters to keep me interested in a book, a sense of place might just come in third. I love to explore an unusual setting. It's something that draws me to historical fiction, or to stories set in exotic worlds. I try to do this with the desert, polygamist community of Blister Creek in The Righteous, and its why The Atlantic bought my story about Morocco. For my next book, much of which takes place in a facility for the mental retarded, I want to capture the chemical-over-shit smell of the bathrooms that I remember, the prison-like feel of the facility, and the fluorescent stillness of the night shift.
A weak sense of place is something that leaves me cold in some modern thrillers. They're all about the plot and the pacing, and so they forget how powerfully a sense of place can drag you into the story. And it doesn't take much wordage either, just a carefully chosen phrase here and a sentence or two there. It takes far less space than developing character, for example, or a single subplot.
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Some Thoughts About Scenes and Tension
What's playing on the ipod: Russian Radio, Red Flag
Another tidbit from James Scott Bell's book Plot & Structure. "Most often, the best way to create a memorable scene is to intensify the clash. Two characters oppose each other. They have the strongest possible reasons to do so."
It took a long time for me to internalize this lesson. In my earlier stories, there is a lot of physical movement of the characters, as a substitute for plot movement. Similarly, conflict for me usually meant physical action. Only gradually did I develop the skills to move plot and conflict in a non-physical manner. One of the strongest tools for creating memorable scenes is to give your characters--even your sympathetic characters--differing motives and goals in any given situation.
In my latest book, The Righteous, there is scene between Jacob and his father that drew a positive comment from all three of my beta readers and my agent. In it, Jacob's father is pressuring Jacob to acquiesce to a marriage between Jacob's sister, Eliza, and the son of their greatest rival in the polygamist church. Eliza's would-be husband is a slimy, abusive man, and both Jacob and his father know it. But Jacob's father is convinced that that the concessions given by his rival will give them a long-term advantage in the power struggle within the church. Jacob begins the scene willing to sacrifice anything and everything to keep Eliza from marrying this man. He ends with near total capitulation. His father has out-maneuvered him and his arguments--while gut-wrenching for Jacob--are impossible to counter.
The thing is, these are both sympathetic characters within the book. And yet, as I wrote the scene, I could feel the tension crackling, and my writing sharpened as a result. It's some of the best dialogue that I've written, which had always been a weak point in my writing.
Another tidbit from James Scott Bell's book Plot & Structure. "Most often, the best way to create a memorable scene is to intensify the clash. Two characters oppose each other. They have the strongest possible reasons to do so."
It took a long time for me to internalize this lesson. In my earlier stories, there is a lot of physical movement of the characters, as a substitute for plot movement. Similarly, conflict for me usually meant physical action. Only gradually did I develop the skills to move plot and conflict in a non-physical manner. One of the strongest tools for creating memorable scenes is to give your characters--even your sympathetic characters--differing motives and goals in any given situation.
In my latest book, The Righteous, there is scene between Jacob and his father that drew a positive comment from all three of my beta readers and my agent. In it, Jacob's father is pressuring Jacob to acquiesce to a marriage between Jacob's sister, Eliza, and the son of their greatest rival in the polygamist church. Eliza's would-be husband is a slimy, abusive man, and both Jacob and his father know it. But Jacob's father is convinced that that the concessions given by his rival will give them a long-term advantage in the power struggle within the church. Jacob begins the scene willing to sacrifice anything and everything to keep Eliza from marrying this man. He ends with near total capitulation. His father has out-maneuvered him and his arguments--while gut-wrenching for Jacob--are impossible to counter.
The thing is, these are both sympathetic characters within the book. And yet, as I wrote the scene, I could feel the tension crackling, and my writing sharpened as a result. It's some of the best dialogue that I've written, which had always been a weak point in my writing.
Lazy and Not So Lazy
What's playing on the ipod: The Best is Yet to Come, Tony Bennett
You may have noticed that I've been lazy about updating the look of the blog or even adding links. I'm also terrible about going back through my posts and editing, or even proofing for grammar or spelling mistakes. It's all rough draft.
I thought about this a good deal at first. On the one hand, this is a writing blog; there's a steep discount on writing advice delivered from the pen of the semi-literate. On the other hand, this is also a journal of my thoughts and a diversion from the serious writing. If I spend too much time on individual posts, there will be times when I don't post very often because I don't have the time, and there will be other times when I neglect my legitimate writing because I'm spending too much time on the blog.
Hence, the aforementioned flaws.
You may have noticed that I've been lazy about updating the look of the blog or even adding links. I'm also terrible about going back through my posts and editing, or even proofing for grammar or spelling mistakes. It's all rough draft.
I thought about this a good deal at first. On the one hand, this is a writing blog; there's a steep discount on writing advice delivered from the pen of the semi-literate. On the other hand, this is also a journal of my thoughts and a diversion from the serious writing. If I spend too much time on individual posts, there will be times when I don't post very often because I don't have the time, and there will be other times when I neglect my legitimate writing because I'm spending too much time on the blog.
Hence, the aforementioned flaws.
ICQ Number
What's playing on the ipod: Stayin' Alive, Bee Gees
My ICQ number is 248-366-241 for the curious. Please introduce yourself when you first send me a message as I occasionally get the usual crank messages.
My ICQ number is 248-366-241 for the curious. Please introduce yourself when you first send me a message as I occasionally get the usual crank messages.
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Giving Up, Practice, etc.
What's playing on the ipod: La Celestina, Llasa de Sela
Literary agent Nathan Bransford asks how long you should keep struggling before you give up.* It's an interesting question, and one that I was contemplating myself just last summer. I'd had enough success that I knew I had some talent, but I was not making any progress. I'd sold a few short stories, but most of my stuff, including all my novels, would never see the light of day.
But one thing I'd known for some time is that I wasn't putting in as much time as I needed to in order to prove to myself that I either could or couldn't pull this off. I needed to devote myself to two to three hours a day, every single day, and hold this course for three or four years, at least. Instead, I would write a book or a batch of stories, then take off six months or a year while I marketed.
The thing is, I know plenty of people who agonize over their lack of progress who can count on one hand the number of things they've finished. Everyone thinks they can write, and to a certain extent everyone can. Everyone can sing, too. But only the fools on American Idol think they're good enough to perform in front of thousands of people without formal training and years of practice. Just like singing, art, acting, and the like, there are hundreds of people who want every available slot. Perhaps because there is no formal apprenticeship and because talent is so subjective, writers think they can muddle their way to publication. A handful of rejections turn them bitter. Never mind that they've only written two shorts stories and thirty pages of a memoir. They expect to be playing Carnegie Hall after their second lesson.
The thing is, writing sometimes sucks. It's more fun to have written than to write. Rejection is worse. Rejection spanning years and multiple projects is soul devouring. And the thing is, you may work and work and still fail in the end.
All that is the bad news. The good news is that you can leave 90% of the competition in the dust by simply continuing to run. I look at stuff I wrote when I was 18 or 22 and it's cringe-worthy. Thank god it was never published. I can't believe I submitted that crap. And yet I kept writing, I kept studying, and gradually I improved. It shocks people when I tell them that I've written roughly 100 short stories, seven novels and several other partial novels and still haven't published my first novel. But I'm almost there and if I had given up ten years ago or even last summer, I'd have guaranteed myself failure.
So here's my answer to whether or not you should give up. Have you ever started? Because if you haven't sat your butt down in front of the computer and typed and typed and then studied your work, submitted it first to your writing friends and then to publishers, and then typed some more then what are you talking about? You quit long ago.
Otherwise, I say keep going.
*It occurs to me that the choice of words for linking reveals one's attitude about the post. In this example, I clearly think the question is the important thing. If I had linked from the words "you should keep struggling" it would have revealed something different, and linking from the words "give up" would have revealed another attitude entirely.
Literary agent Nathan Bransford asks how long you should keep struggling before you give up.* It's an interesting question, and one that I was contemplating myself just last summer. I'd had enough success that I knew I had some talent, but I was not making any progress. I'd sold a few short stories, but most of my stuff, including all my novels, would never see the light of day.
But one thing I'd known for some time is that I wasn't putting in as much time as I needed to in order to prove to myself that I either could or couldn't pull this off. I needed to devote myself to two to three hours a day, every single day, and hold this course for three or four years, at least. Instead, I would write a book or a batch of stories, then take off six months or a year while I marketed.
The thing is, I know plenty of people who agonize over their lack of progress who can count on one hand the number of things they've finished. Everyone thinks they can write, and to a certain extent everyone can. Everyone can sing, too. But only the fools on American Idol think they're good enough to perform in front of thousands of people without formal training and years of practice. Just like singing, art, acting, and the like, there are hundreds of people who want every available slot. Perhaps because there is no formal apprenticeship and because talent is so subjective, writers think they can muddle their way to publication. A handful of rejections turn them bitter. Never mind that they've only written two shorts stories and thirty pages of a memoir. They expect to be playing Carnegie Hall after their second lesson.
The thing is, writing sometimes sucks. It's more fun to have written than to write. Rejection is worse. Rejection spanning years and multiple projects is soul devouring. And the thing is, you may work and work and still fail in the end.
All that is the bad news. The good news is that you can leave 90% of the competition in the dust by simply continuing to run. I look at stuff I wrote when I was 18 or 22 and it's cringe-worthy. Thank god it was never published. I can't believe I submitted that crap. And yet I kept writing, I kept studying, and gradually I improved. It shocks people when I tell them that I've written roughly 100 short stories, seven novels and several other partial novels and still haven't published my first novel. But I'm almost there and if I had given up ten years ago or even last summer, I'd have guaranteed myself failure.
So here's my answer to whether or not you should give up. Have you ever started? Because if you haven't sat your butt down in front of the computer and typed and typed and then studied your work, submitted it first to your writing friends and then to publishers, and then typed some more then what are you talking about? You quit long ago.
Otherwise, I say keep going.
*It occurs to me that the choice of words for linking reveals one's attitude about the post. In this example, I clearly think the question is the important thing. If I had linked from the words "you should keep struggling" it would have revealed something different, and linking from the words "give up" would have revealed another attitude entirely.
Monday, March 26, 2007
Curse Words and Incorrect Thinking
What's playing on the ipod: Power of Two, Indigo Girls
We're in a relatively stable period of language in many ways. Universal literacy and modern communication have blunted regional accents, and retarded the rate of change in languages. We've added thousands of new words due to rapid technological change, but the grammar itself is largely fixed, with a few exceptions.
It's interesting, however, to see how curse words are changing. Some words that were no-nos even in my childhood can now be heard on network television and quite casually in everyday conversation. Even the big "F dash-dash-dash!" (a la Christmas Story) has lost much of its potency. I've had strangers at the inn sprinkle their conversation with the word after about ten seconds of conversation, as in, "The snow on the mountain was pretty fucking sweet today." It's certainly not proper language, but it's lost much of its shock value.
On the other hand, the so-called "N Word" has become the primus inter pares of curse words. It was not a polite word by any stretch when I was a kid, and certainly verboten in reference to people, at least among my moderate, middle class white family. I heard kids use it all the time as a general insult, like fag, but it didn't really shock me. Even adults used the phrase "nigger rig" in a very casual way. Without getting into the etymology of the word, I think it's a sign of progress that we have stricken this word from our vocabulary.
Nevertheless, proscribing the word as quickly as we have speaks volumes about the way we view the world that has implications for the fiction writer. You could have a character with a background as a mugger and it would be easier to paint him as sympathetic than someone who was a racist. Think about that. Here's one guy who violently assaults others and he's more sympathetic than someone else whose only crime amounts to incorrect thinking about the way the world works. We've even codified under the rubric of hate crimes. That is, if you attack someone because he is ugly, rich, stupid, or a Yankees fan, you face one sanction. If you behave in the exact same way, but because the target is Jewish, gay, or Asian, your crime is worse and the punishment more serious.
The thing is, we live in a multicultural society. These are often unstable beasts, and can come apart in a spasm of violence. It is important for us to tread lightly where the subject of race, religion, or whatnot is concerned lest we go the way of Yugoslavia, Northern Ireland, or Nazi Germany. Nevertheless, we should be very careful in proscribing incorrect thinking. Not only do we push it underground, rather than dealing with these issues in the open, but part of living in a free society is the free interchange of ideas. Bad ideas should be combated with good ideas, not punitive action.
We're in a relatively stable period of language in many ways. Universal literacy and modern communication have blunted regional accents, and retarded the rate of change in languages. We've added thousands of new words due to rapid technological change, but the grammar itself is largely fixed, with a few exceptions.
It's interesting, however, to see how curse words are changing. Some words that were no-nos even in my childhood can now be heard on network television and quite casually in everyday conversation. Even the big "F dash-dash-dash!" (a la Christmas Story) has lost much of its potency. I've had strangers at the inn sprinkle their conversation with the word after about ten seconds of conversation, as in, "The snow on the mountain was pretty fucking sweet today." It's certainly not proper language, but it's lost much of its shock value.
On the other hand, the so-called "N Word" has become the primus inter pares of curse words. It was not a polite word by any stretch when I was a kid, and certainly verboten in reference to people, at least among my moderate, middle class white family. I heard kids use it all the time as a general insult, like fag, but it didn't really shock me. Even adults used the phrase "nigger rig" in a very casual way. Without getting into the etymology of the word, I think it's a sign of progress that we have stricken this word from our vocabulary.
Nevertheless, proscribing the word as quickly as we have speaks volumes about the way we view the world that has implications for the fiction writer. You could have a character with a background as a mugger and it would be easier to paint him as sympathetic than someone who was a racist. Think about that. Here's one guy who violently assaults others and he's more sympathetic than someone else whose only crime amounts to incorrect thinking about the way the world works. We've even codified under the rubric of hate crimes. That is, if you attack someone because he is ugly, rich, stupid, or a Yankees fan, you face one sanction. If you behave in the exact same way, but because the target is Jewish, gay, or Asian, your crime is worse and the punishment more serious.
The thing is, we live in a multicultural society. These are often unstable beasts, and can come apart in a spasm of violence. It is important for us to tread lightly where the subject of race, religion, or whatnot is concerned lest we go the way of Yugoslavia, Northern Ireland, or Nazi Germany. Nevertheless, we should be very careful in proscribing incorrect thinking. Not only do we push it underground, rather than dealing with these issues in the open, but part of living in a free society is the free interchange of ideas. Bad ideas should be combated with good ideas, not punitive action.
Sunday, March 25, 2007
Reading List
What's playing on the ipod: Lucrecia, My Reflection, Sisters of Mercy
I've finished a few of my books and am moving on. I've got a Carl Hiaasen book, Tourist Season, which is only the second book of his that I've tackled. I enjoyed Sick Puppy, which had an Edward Abbey-esque flavor. I know this is an older novel, but it's guys like me who keep the backlist alive. I'm looking forward to the arrival of The Poe Shadow, by Matthew Pearl, recently ordered off Amazon. I enjoyed his first novel, The Dante Club, a mystery in an interesting historical context; right up my alley, in other words. We'll see if his sophomore effort is up to snuff. Beyond that, I'm looking for recommendations. Any suggestions?
I've finished a few of my books and am moving on. I've got a Carl Hiaasen book, Tourist Season, which is only the second book of his that I've tackled. I enjoyed Sick Puppy, which had an Edward Abbey-esque flavor. I know this is an older novel, but it's guys like me who keep the backlist alive. I'm looking forward to the arrival of The Poe Shadow, by Matthew Pearl, recently ordered off Amazon. I enjoyed his first novel, The Dante Club, a mystery in an interesting historical context; right up my alley, in other words. We'll see if his sophomore effort is up to snuff. Beyond that, I'm looking for recommendations. Any suggestions?
Train versus Air
What's playing on the ipod: Tus Recuerdos, Tarpuy
I've soured on air travel. I've taken to driving to Toronto for my annual writing retreat instead of flying south to New York and back north to get to Toronto. I'm going to NYC the week after next and I'm going to take the train. It's cheaper, more comfortable, more interesting, and only marginally slower when you account for the insane levels of security, etc., that you have to suffer when you fly.
It's crazy to me that we don't have better rail travel in this country. There's no reason that you shouldn't be able to hop on a TGV-style train and travel with minimal time and effort. A system like this is a no-brainer for the Northeast, California, Florida, and Texas, with long-haul systems connecting them. Of course the government would have to subsidize this to the tune of tens of billions of dollars, but we subsidize transportation anyway. As modern rail is generally electrified, it would provide a critical backup for a day of expensive motor fuel and an alternative to the expensive, frustrating air system we're currently forced to endure whenever we want to travel more than a few hundred miles.
I've soured on air travel. I've taken to driving to Toronto for my annual writing retreat instead of flying south to New York and back north to get to Toronto. I'm going to NYC the week after next and I'm going to take the train. It's cheaper, more comfortable, more interesting, and only marginally slower when you account for the insane levels of security, etc., that you have to suffer when you fly.
It's crazy to me that we don't have better rail travel in this country. There's no reason that you shouldn't be able to hop on a TGV-style train and travel with minimal time and effort. A system like this is a no-brainer for the Northeast, California, Florida, and Texas, with long-haul systems connecting them. Of course the government would have to subsidize this to the tune of tens of billions of dollars, but we subsidize transportation anyway. As modern rail is generally electrified, it would provide a critical backup for a day of expensive motor fuel and an alternative to the expensive, frustrating air system we're currently forced to endure whenever we want to travel more than a few hundred miles.
Saturday, March 24, 2007
Moral Fiction
What's playing on the ipod: If You Were Here, Thompson Twins
I just finished The Witching Hour, by Anne Rice, last night. What a frustrating book. When the final showdown occurs, the evil character wins with ease. One main character loses her will and her unborn child to the demon. Her husband is left desolate and nearly killed. The supernatural forces who we were sure were good characters leading him throughout the book turned out only to be pawns of the demon. I went to Wikipedia to see how the book turns out and became even more frustrated. In subsequent books, the two main characters engage in incest and pedophilia. Nice.
Look, I don't need happy and shiny, but I do have some rules. The protagonists should be good. That doesn't mean they don't do some crappy things. Look at Donaldson's Thomas Covenant, who rapes a girl at the beginning of the series. But we see how he was led to this point and he then goes on fighting against this and self-loathing. It's unsatisfying to have our main characters slip into the same morass as the antagonists. This is part of what makes The Witching Hour unsatisfying. The main characters don't just lose the physical battle, they lose the moral one as well. All their struggles, faith, and courage amount to nothing in the end.
Secondly, evil must be punished. As I've stated elsewhere in this blog, I come to fiction for closure that often doesn't exist in the real world. I don't want evil to win and I'm not going to be happy if it does. I'll forgive Stephen King for the occasional winking, "I survived!" coming from the villain at the end of his novels, because, at the very least, the evil characters have suffered a terrible blow administered by the protagonists. I've heard this is not the case with Pet Sematary, which is the reason I've never read this book.
To be honest, Rice pushed the envelope with me even before I got to the enfuriating ending. As the father of young children, I get awfully squeamish about the sexual abuse of children in book. If anyone tried something like what happens in this book to one of my children, I would strangle him with my bare hands. Other than the abuse of children, I've got a pretty strong constitution. Severed heads, demonic possession (or, in The Righteous, the cutting of throats and removal of tongues) don't bother me. I'm even willing to keep reading in spite of the abuse of children thing if it is not graphic, and more importantly, done by a character that I'm supposed to loathe.
More on this anon.
I just finished The Witching Hour, by Anne Rice, last night. What a frustrating book. When the final showdown occurs, the evil character wins with ease. One main character loses her will and her unborn child to the demon. Her husband is left desolate and nearly killed. The supernatural forces who we were sure were good characters leading him throughout the book turned out only to be pawns of the demon. I went to Wikipedia to see how the book turns out and became even more frustrated. In subsequent books, the two main characters engage in incest and pedophilia. Nice.
Look, I don't need happy and shiny, but I do have some rules. The protagonists should be good. That doesn't mean they don't do some crappy things. Look at Donaldson's Thomas Covenant, who rapes a girl at the beginning of the series. But we see how he was led to this point and he then goes on fighting against this and self-loathing. It's unsatisfying to have our main characters slip into the same morass as the antagonists. This is part of what makes The Witching Hour unsatisfying. The main characters don't just lose the physical battle, they lose the moral one as well. All their struggles, faith, and courage amount to nothing in the end.
Secondly, evil must be punished. As I've stated elsewhere in this blog, I come to fiction for closure that often doesn't exist in the real world. I don't want evil to win and I'm not going to be happy if it does. I'll forgive Stephen King for the occasional winking, "I survived!" coming from the villain at the end of his novels, because, at the very least, the evil characters have suffered a terrible blow administered by the protagonists. I've heard this is not the case with Pet Sematary, which is the reason I've never read this book.
To be honest, Rice pushed the envelope with me even before I got to the enfuriating ending. As the father of young children, I get awfully squeamish about the sexual abuse of children in book. If anyone tried something like what happens in this book to one of my children, I would strangle him with my bare hands. Other than the abuse of children, I've got a pretty strong constitution. Severed heads, demonic possession (or, in The Righteous, the cutting of throats and removal of tongues) don't bother me. I'm even willing to keep reading in spite of the abuse of children thing if it is not graphic, and more importantly, done by a character that I'm supposed to loathe.
Friday, March 23, 2007
Famous Literary Fight Ends
What's playing on the ipod: Fingers and Thumbs, Erasure
Mario Vargas Llosa and Gabriel Garcia Marquez have broken the ice in ending their famous feud.
The lesser known feud of Michael Carr vs. the publishing world in which the author sends his best work and the publishing world respectfully declines, appears to be coming to an end as well. More news on these pages in future posts.
Ate at a new restaurant last night. I'd heard bad things about this place when it first opened about a year ago, but someone recently recommended the place and it sounded like they had worked out the kinks. We gave it a try. It's a bad sign when you are comparing parts of the meal to pre-packaged, frozen foods from Costco.
Mario Vargas Llosa and Gabriel Garcia Marquez have broken the ice in ending their famous feud.
The lesser known feud of Michael Carr vs. the publishing world in which the author sends his best work and the publishing world respectfully declines, appears to be coming to an end as well. More news on these pages in future posts.
Ate at a new restaurant last night. I'd heard bad things about this place when it first opened about a year ago, but someone recently recommended the place and it sounded like they had worked out the kinks. We gave it a try. It's a bad sign when you are comparing parts of the meal to pre-packaged, frozen foods from Costco.
Thursday, March 22, 2007
More on the Coming Ice Age
What's playing on the ipod: Big Yellow Taxi, Joni Mitchell
Here's another sign that we don't have a clue what we're doing.
Melting ice-sheets and glaciers in Antarctica are releasing fresh water, interfering with the formation of dense "bottom water," which sinks 4-5 kilometers to the ocean floor and helps drive the world's ocean circulation system.
The ironic effect of global warming is just as likely to bring us another ice age (or, more accurately, since we're currently in a warm phase of an ongoing ice age, another glacial maximum) as it is to bring continually warmer temperatures. Ice ages can emerge suddenly, in just a few failed summers, in fact, and we probably won't recognize such an event until it's on us.
We tend to think we're in a steady state as a civilization, but it is likely that the world of a hundred years from now will be as unrecognizable to us as the world of today would have been for those living in the last fin de siècle.
Here's another sign that we don't have a clue what we're doing.
Melting ice-sheets and glaciers in Antarctica are releasing fresh water, interfering with the formation of dense "bottom water," which sinks 4-5 kilometers to the ocean floor and helps drive the world's ocean circulation system.
The ironic effect of global warming is just as likely to bring us another ice age (or, more accurately, since we're currently in a warm phase of an ongoing ice age, another glacial maximum) as it is to bring continually warmer temperatures. Ice ages can emerge suddenly, in just a few failed summers, in fact, and we probably won't recognize such an event until it's on us.
We tend to think we're in a steady state as a civilization, but it is likely that the world of a hundred years from now will be as unrecognizable to us as the world of today would have been for those living in the last fin de siècle.
A Short Story?
What's playing on the ipod: Open Arms, Journey
I'm thinking about trying my hand at a short story. I swore off the things some time ago. They're tougher for me to write well than novels and the market is small, shrinking, almost impossible to crack, and pays very little when you do. I've written some good stories that remain unsold because they garnered "not-quites" from the pro magazines and I was too proud or lazy to send them to small press magazines. I also think the magazines prefer literary, while I write unabashedly commercial fiction.
Being a natural novelist and not a short story writer, the one advantage is that when you finish a short story, you're the same person you were when you started. It only takes a couple of weeks and if you don't sell the thing, you aren't left devastated by the experience. It's also a good way to keep the writing muscles in shape; I'm not in a position to start a new novel project until The Righteous is under contract and I know what my future publisher wants next.
There's also this little science fiction idea that's been percolating for a couple of weeks. I'll almost certainly never writer another sf novel, so the question is whether or not I can limit the scope enough to turn it into a short story. And do I want to?
I'm thinking about trying my hand at a short story. I swore off the things some time ago. They're tougher for me to write well than novels and the market is small, shrinking, almost impossible to crack, and pays very little when you do. I've written some good stories that remain unsold because they garnered "not-quites" from the pro magazines and I was too proud or lazy to send them to small press magazines. I also think the magazines prefer literary, while I write unabashedly commercial fiction.
Being a natural novelist and not a short story writer, the one advantage is that when you finish a short story, you're the same person you were when you started. It only takes a couple of weeks and if you don't sell the thing, you aren't left devastated by the experience. It's also a good way to keep the writing muscles in shape; I'm not in a position to start a new novel project until The Righteous is under contract and I know what my future publisher wants next.
There's also this little science fiction idea that's been percolating for a couple of weeks. I'll almost certainly never writer another sf novel, so the question is whether or not I can limit the scope enough to turn it into a short story. And do I want to?
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
Metaphor
What's playing on the ipod: Chariots of Fire, Vangelis
The human mind has an amazing capacity to make comparisons between unlike things. My seventeen month old son was watching television and saw a cartoon with anthropomorphic monster trucks. "Truck!" he said again and again, pointing. Now, there are far more non-trucklike details about these objects than what you would find in their real-life counterparts, yet even a baby recognizes them as a metaphor for an actual truck.
My dog is completely different. Evolved as a human companion over thousands of years, the dog has an amazing capacity to note human emotion and intention. My dog goes to his cage when he sees me shutting down the office for the night, and he can communicate hunger, boredom, bathroom needs, playfulness, pain, and several other needs. Yet, if you hold a stuffed animal in front of him, he does not see it as a metaphor for the real-world equivalent. He expresses no interest in a cartoon dog, but recognizes a real dog on the television readily enough.
How did we evolve such an appreciation for metaphor? Some undoubtedly came from language. The earliest language was likely nouns only. "Lion. Grass." There are monkeys with distinctive sounds to refer to different predators. In any event, by the time humans branched from Africa roughly 100,000 years ago we'd already developed a full language for describing our surroundings. We see cave paintings and statues, and burials with funeral goods that indicate we were already telling ourselves stories about the world, both real and supernatural.
That there are so many of us who are driven to tell stories is evidence enough that the role of priest/shaman/storyteller was a respected one. Those genes strengthened and and spread.*
And those cultures who appreciated story, who knew how to explain the world in a way that brought cohesion to the group, spread. There are very few people who don't appreciate fiction in some form.
I've mentioned in the past how fiction satisfies the need to bring order from chaos. I think it's safe to add that human culture has driven evolution to the point where we also enjoy fiction (as well as art) for its ability to convey metaphor.
*Sadly, instead of needing one storyteller for every clan of twenty to fifty people, we know live in a clan of half a billion English speakers and we only need a few thousand writers to satisfy the clan's need for story. Hence, the number of people seeking publication versus the available positions for those wishing to be storytellers.
The human mind has an amazing capacity to make comparisons between unlike things. My seventeen month old son was watching television and saw a cartoon with anthropomorphic monster trucks. "Truck!" he said again and again, pointing. Now, there are far more non-trucklike details about these objects than what you would find in their real-life counterparts, yet even a baby recognizes them as a metaphor for an actual truck.
My dog is completely different. Evolved as a human companion over thousands of years, the dog has an amazing capacity to note human emotion and intention. My dog goes to his cage when he sees me shutting down the office for the night, and he can communicate hunger, boredom, bathroom needs, playfulness, pain, and several other needs. Yet, if you hold a stuffed animal in front of him, he does not see it as a metaphor for the real-world equivalent. He expresses no interest in a cartoon dog, but recognizes a real dog on the television readily enough.
How did we evolve such an appreciation for metaphor? Some undoubtedly came from language. The earliest language was likely nouns only. "Lion. Grass." There are monkeys with distinctive sounds to refer to different predators. In any event, by the time humans branched from Africa roughly 100,000 years ago we'd already developed a full language for describing our surroundings. We see cave paintings and statues, and burials with funeral goods that indicate we were already telling ourselves stories about the world, both real and supernatural.
That there are so many of us who are driven to tell stories is evidence enough that the role of priest/shaman/storyteller was a respected one. Those genes strengthened and and spread.*
And those cultures who appreciated story, who knew how to explain the world in a way that brought cohesion to the group, spread. There are very few people who don't appreciate fiction in some form.
I've mentioned in the past how fiction satisfies the need to bring order from chaos. I think it's safe to add that human culture has driven evolution to the point where we also enjoy fiction (as well as art) for its ability to convey metaphor.
*Sadly, instead of needing one storyteller for every clan of twenty to fifty people, we know live in a clan of half a billion English speakers and we only need a few thousand writers to satisfy the clan's need for story. Hence, the number of people seeking publication versus the available positions for those wishing to be storytellers.
Monday, March 19, 2007
Suspending Disbelief
What's playing on the ipod: Flood, Jars of Clay
There's a certain type of person who speaks sneeringly of fiction. "I read for information," he says, "not entertainment." My father is a little like this. He reads the news magazines, information about finance, and National Geographic. But he does not understand fiction. At least not in the written form. He likes movies. Almost everyone, in fact, likes movies.*
Have you noticed that we more readily accept absurdities in our film than in our fiction? I used to dismiss such things as directors and producers spending a gajillion dollars on special effects while getting the script on the cheap, but it occurs to me that we may simply be more demanding of the written form. When Sandra Bullock and Keanu Reeves fall in love, we buy it because they have chemistry, not because there's a logical reason in the script. When a dinosaur comes crashing out of the brush, we don't ask, "Now, how many years have they kept this island a secret, to have grown a thirty foot tall t-rex?" (Well, sometimes we do, but the other people in the theater give us dirty looks.) Seeing, as they say, is believing.
But we read stuff--or maybe we readers, read stuff--and it pisses us off when we encounter logical absurdities. There are only words, no actors, no explosions, and they've got to be convincing. As they used to say at Clarion, the slightest whiff of logical inconsistency will snap you right out of the story. That's what I was suffering in the medical thriller from my previous post.
I think there are people, literate, engaging people, who simply don't read novels because they cannot suspend disbelief sufficient to become engrossed in the story. To forget that they are reading.
*I could imagine an alien civilization coming into contact with humanity and being incapable of understanding our fiction, movies included. Another mental architecture might be incapable of turning off the skeptic, seeing at all times the actors and not the theater.
There's a certain type of person who speaks sneeringly of fiction. "I read for information," he says, "not entertainment." My father is a little like this. He reads the news magazines, information about finance, and National Geographic. But he does not understand fiction. At least not in the written form. He likes movies. Almost everyone, in fact, likes movies.*
Have you noticed that we more readily accept absurdities in our film than in our fiction? I used to dismiss such things as directors and producers spending a gajillion dollars on special effects while getting the script on the cheap, but it occurs to me that we may simply be more demanding of the written form. When Sandra Bullock and Keanu Reeves fall in love, we buy it because they have chemistry, not because there's a logical reason in the script. When a dinosaur comes crashing out of the brush, we don't ask, "Now, how many years have they kept this island a secret, to have grown a thirty foot tall t-rex?" (Well, sometimes we do, but the other people in the theater give us dirty looks.) Seeing, as they say, is believing.
But we read stuff--or maybe we readers, read stuff--and it pisses us off when we encounter logical absurdities. There are only words, no actors, no explosions, and they've got to be convincing. As they used to say at Clarion, the slightest whiff of logical inconsistency will snap you right out of the story. That's what I was suffering in the medical thriller from my previous post.
I think there are people, literate, engaging people, who simply don't read novels because they cannot suspend disbelief sufficient to become engrossed in the story. To forget that they are reading.
*I could imagine an alien civilization coming into contact with humanity and being incapable of understanding our fiction, movies included. Another mental architecture might be incapable of turning off the skeptic, seeing at all times the actors and not the theater.
Current Readings
What's playing on the ipod: Low Rider, War
Went skiing yesterday with my son and finished the day with a soak in the hot tub. The kids were quite happy to get in the hot tub and to say goodbye to the weekend's guests. We're pretty quite today, but a couple of high school ski teams are coming in tonight for the next couple of days for a race on the mountain. We'll be serving breakfast at 7:00, which means getting up at 6:00.
I finished a scientific/medical thriller by a well-known and respected writer yesterday. The book had come highly recommended, and started off promisingly enough, but suffered from several fundamental problems. I just couldn't buy the scientific details, or the reactions of the government agencies. In order to keep the ending from resolving via deus ex machina, the writer introduced the solution early in the novel. The introduction of this physical object and its attending characters appeared ex nihilo, and did not appear again until its moment of greatest need. Hence, it was obvious from its introduction that this device would resolve the novel's plot. This served not only to deflate a good deal of tension from the novel's climax, but also to telegraph the ending a hundred pages ahead of the fact.
Still reading the Anne Rice novel. She's a skilled writer and does a great job creating a physical place. I am, however, in the middle of a 400 page aside and am more than ready to return to the main plot.
Went skiing yesterday with my son and finished the day with a soak in the hot tub. The kids were quite happy to get in the hot tub and to say goodbye to the weekend's guests. We're pretty quite today, but a couple of high school ski teams are coming in tonight for the next couple of days for a race on the mountain. We'll be serving breakfast at 7:00, which means getting up at 6:00.
I finished a scientific/medical thriller by a well-known and respected writer yesterday. The book had come highly recommended, and started off promisingly enough, but suffered from several fundamental problems. I just couldn't buy the scientific details, or the reactions of the government agencies. In order to keep the ending from resolving via deus ex machina, the writer introduced the solution early in the novel. The introduction of this physical object and its attending characters appeared ex nihilo, and did not appear again until its moment of greatest need. Hence, it was obvious from its introduction that this device would resolve the novel's plot. This served not only to deflate a good deal of tension from the novel's climax, but also to telegraph the ending a hundred pages ahead of the fact.
Still reading the Anne Rice novel. She's a skilled writer and does a great job creating a physical place. I am, however, in the middle of a 400 page aside and am more than ready to return to the main plot.
Sunday, March 18, 2007
Old Man Winter Still Kicking Around
What's playing on the ipod: Deep as You Go, October Project
This may be the last blast of winter, but spring seems very far off indeed at the moment. Two feet of snow has fallen in the last couple of days and in spite of last week's thaw, I'm again having a tough time finding a place to put it all. I'm heading up to the mountain in a couple of hours to take advantage of the fresh powder.
I haven't done much writing this week. I'm still waiting to hear back from my agent on the latest round of edits. It's hard not to get impatient, but I need to remind myself that this is a slow moving business. In fact, my agent has been downright speedy, compared with my experience in the past, and I'm sure to look back at this as the uptempo phase, once the novel goes out on submission and (hopefully) enters the publishing queue. Nevertheless, I've done about 90% of the pre-writing on the next book, but don't want to start until I feel like the major revisions for The Righteous are behind me.
Here is an interesting article by my friend John McDaid about funding education as a safeguard to the preservation of our democratic system.
This may be the last blast of winter, but spring seems very far off indeed at the moment. Two feet of snow has fallen in the last couple of days and in spite of last week's thaw, I'm again having a tough time finding a place to put it all. I'm heading up to the mountain in a couple of hours to take advantage of the fresh powder.
I haven't done much writing this week. I'm still waiting to hear back from my agent on the latest round of edits. It's hard not to get impatient, but I need to remind myself that this is a slow moving business. In fact, my agent has been downright speedy, compared with my experience in the past, and I'm sure to look back at this as the uptempo phase, once the novel goes out on submission and (hopefully) enters the publishing queue. Nevertheless, I've done about 90% of the pre-writing on the next book, but don't want to start until I feel like the major revisions for The Righteous are behind me.
Here is an interesting article by my friend John McDaid about funding education as a safeguard to the preservation of our democratic system.
Friday, March 16, 2007
Some Inn Stuff
What's playing on the ipod: How Can Anybody Know How I Feel? Morrissey
Leaving aside housekeeping and breakfast needs, which are roughly equal for everyone, the 10/90 rule applies to guests at the inn. That is, 10 percent of the guests require 90 percent of the effort. They come in again and again to ask for favors, and they get all the calls, need the most hand-holding to make their reservations, etc. Some of these people are friendly enough, but you get two or three rooms like this and it becomes impossible to watch a television program or have dinner with the family without constant interruption.
I've been taking a fair number of calls from people who are aggrieved by our policies/availability. "Hi, I'd like to make a reservation for this weekend? YOU'RE FULL? But I NEED a room?"
Or, this one, "Yes, I'd like a room for this Saturday. What do you mean, two night minimum for peak weekends? But I can't come up for the whole weekend." Right, but if I rent out Saturday night only, Friday night will sit vacant.
But the worst was a woman who called for the Saturday night of Columbus Day Weekend. It's the height of the foliage season here in Northern NE, and we have a 3 night minimum. She obviously knew there might be an issue or she wouldn't be trying to reserve a room seven months in advance. Thing is, she told me, they're not staying in this state, just passing through and need a place to stay that night. She asked about five times if I wouldn't make an exception just for her or, barring that, call some other inns to see if they'd take her. No kidding, she actually asked, "Are you telling me that we just have to sleep in our car?!" No, I'm not telling you that. I'm telling you that your travel plans are incompatible with what I need to do to run a viable business. You've got seven months. Plenty of time to change your plans to make them conform with reality.
Ooh, I forgot one that's even better. A couple come in last Friday afternoon, sweaty and wearing their ski gear. First words out of their mouth: "We've got an emergency." Turns out they had a wedding, thought they'd find a place to shower and change after skiing, and have not succeeded. They want, no, NEED a room, just for a few hours. Of course, all rooms were taken, check-ins were arriving, and housekeeping had left in any event. The guy insisted that we bump someone from their room (I'm sure they'll be able to find somewhere else in the valley, he said) so they could handle this emergency. They had a wedding to attend, for god's sake.
This was not the first time I had someone show up (once, at about 2:00 AM), be horrified that we don't have a room, and suggest that we kick someone less-need out of their room.
As a child in Sunday School, I used to think it was horrible that the innkeeper wouldn't give a room to Mary and Joseph, arriving in the middle of labor. Now I think that innkeeper was pretty darn nice for giving them a room in the stable. And what kind of moron doesn't make reservations for his pregnant wife. Especially travelling at Christmas! ;)
Leaving aside housekeeping and breakfast needs, which are roughly equal for everyone, the 10/90 rule applies to guests at the inn. That is, 10 percent of the guests require 90 percent of the effort. They come in again and again to ask for favors, and they get all the calls, need the most hand-holding to make their reservations, etc. Some of these people are friendly enough, but you get two or three rooms like this and it becomes impossible to watch a television program or have dinner with the family without constant interruption.
I've been taking a fair number of calls from people who are aggrieved by our policies/availability. "Hi, I'd like to make a reservation for this weekend? YOU'RE FULL? But I NEED a room?"
Or, this one, "Yes, I'd like a room for this Saturday. What do you mean, two night minimum for peak weekends? But I can't come up for the whole weekend." Right, but if I rent out Saturday night only, Friday night will sit vacant.
But the worst was a woman who called for the Saturday night of Columbus Day Weekend. It's the height of the foliage season here in Northern NE, and we have a 3 night minimum. She obviously knew there might be an issue or she wouldn't be trying to reserve a room seven months in advance. Thing is, she told me, they're not staying in this state, just passing through and need a place to stay that night. She asked about five times if I wouldn't make an exception just for her or, barring that, call some other inns to see if they'd take her. No kidding, she actually asked, "Are you telling me that we just have to sleep in our car?!" No, I'm not telling you that. I'm telling you that your travel plans are incompatible with what I need to do to run a viable business. You've got seven months. Plenty of time to change your plans to make them conform with reality.
Ooh, I forgot one that's even better. A couple come in last Friday afternoon, sweaty and wearing their ski gear. First words out of their mouth: "We've got an emergency." Turns out they had a wedding, thought they'd find a place to shower and change after skiing, and have not succeeded. They want, no, NEED a room, just for a few hours. Of course, all rooms were taken, check-ins were arriving, and housekeeping had left in any event. The guy insisted that we bump someone from their room (I'm sure they'll be able to find somewhere else in the valley, he said) so they could handle this emergency. They had a wedding to attend, for god's sake.
This was not the first time I had someone show up (once, at about 2:00 AM), be horrified that we don't have a room, and suggest that we kick someone less-need out of their room.
As a child in Sunday School, I used to think it was horrible that the innkeeper wouldn't give a room to Mary and Joseph, arriving in the middle of labor. Now I think that innkeeper was pretty darn nice for giving them a room in the stable. And what kind of moron doesn't make reservations for his pregnant wife. Especially travelling at Christmas! ;)
Voice
What's playing on the ipod: Jump, Van Halen
It's standard advice to new writers that they must develop a distinctive voice, but after all these years I'm still not 100% clear on what that means. The first part is obviously ones style. Short, choppy sentences. Sentence fragments. Or, lush, descriptive passages, that morph from one idea to the other, while weaving a tapestry to hang one's story in the mind of the reader.
Okay, but then why not just say style? Is the other element of voice nothing more than confidence? That is, can one gain confidence in one's writing in the same way a pianist will grow more confident with the maturity of her skill? I suppose so, but why is so little attention paid to what exactly constitutes voice? The advice simply says, "Find your voice," or, "Don't try to emulate someone else's voice." Great, but could you be a little more specific, please?
So the other question is, how malleable is one's voice? How much is it possible to modify one's voice to order? You can pick up a Stephen King story and it doesn't matter if the subject is fantasy, horror, or literary, you can recognize his voice at once. Or when I read Grant's comment (tagged as anonymous) in the previous topic, I knew without his BTW, who had written it.
It's standard advice to new writers that they must develop a distinctive voice, but after all these years I'm still not 100% clear on what that means. The first part is obviously ones style. Short, choppy sentences. Sentence fragments. Or, lush, descriptive passages, that morph from one idea to the other, while weaving a tapestry to hang one's story in the mind of the reader.
Okay, but then why not just say style? Is the other element of voice nothing more than confidence? That is, can one gain confidence in one's writing in the same way a pianist will grow more confident with the maturity of her skill? I suppose so, but why is so little attention paid to what exactly constitutes voice? The advice simply says, "Find your voice," or, "Don't try to emulate someone else's voice." Great, but could you be a little more specific, please?
So the other question is, how malleable is one's voice? How much is it possible to modify one's voice to order? You can pick up a Stephen King story and it doesn't matter if the subject is fantasy, horror, or literary, you can recognize his voice at once. Or when I read Grant's comment (tagged as anonymous) in the previous topic, I knew without his BTW, who had written it.
Thursday, March 15, 2007
Best Place to Survive a Collapse.
What's playing on the ipod: In the Flat Field, Bauhaus
The weather whip-saw continues. Last Thursday, we hit -23F and yesterday with mid-fifties and sun before some rain came. We have a storm coming in this weekend that's supposed to dump 12-18 inches of snow. As the saying goes, if you don't like the weather in New England, wait 15 minutes. I'm happy for the snow. We need a couple more good weekends to pay for our spring projects and I'd like to ski a couple more times, as well.
So where is the best place in the United States to live if you want to assure the long-term survival of you and your descendants? I'm assuming there's at least a 1 in 3 chance that we'll suffer from a catastrophic collapse of some kind over the next two hundred years. Probably 90% over the next 1,000 years. Unscientifically (obviously), I would guess:
Peak Oil Collapse: 1 in 5
Nuclear War: 1 in 4
Plague-induced collapse: 1 in 20
Meteor Strike: 1 in 20
Global Warming-induced Collapse: 1 in 10
Return of the Ice Age: 1 in 2 (see global warming, above as causal event)
In all cases, big cities and desert regions depending on modern systems are a sure path to extinction. There will always be a city in New York; but it could shed 95% of its population. Las Vegas? Forget it. Some day, that city will return to the desert.
For a meteor strike, you'd want to avoid the coastal regions, due to high likelihood of a tsunami. They're overpopulated and depend on imported foodstuffs anyway. For global warming, you should avoid the south, and the interior west. For the return of the ice age, you'd obviously avoid places like New England (oops) and the upper midwest. I think this is the likeliest catastrophic event, given that we're already in an interglacial period of an ice age and that the previous glacial maximums seem to have been preceded by warming periods.
That would suggest states like Kentucky, Tennessee, Missouri, etc. Places where the climate will remain warm enough or cool enough, that can support agriculture without modern levels of technology, and with a low likelihood of get hit with nuclear weapons. I would guess a place on the Mississippi might be a good place to settle. These places might only lose 1/3 - 2/3 of their population in a massive collapse and would be easier to reconnect given the useful waterway that is unlikely to go away.
The weather whip-saw continues. Last Thursday, we hit -23F and yesterday with mid-fifties and sun before some rain came. We have a storm coming in this weekend that's supposed to dump 12-18 inches of snow. As the saying goes, if you don't like the weather in New England, wait 15 minutes. I'm happy for the snow. We need a couple more good weekends to pay for our spring projects and I'd like to ski a couple more times, as well.
So where is the best place in the United States to live if you want to assure the long-term survival of you and your descendants? I'm assuming there's at least a 1 in 3 chance that we'll suffer from a catastrophic collapse of some kind over the next two hundred years. Probably 90% over the next 1,000 years. Unscientifically (obviously), I would guess:
Peak Oil Collapse: 1 in 5
Nuclear War: 1 in 4
Plague-induced collapse: 1 in 20
Meteor Strike: 1 in 20
Global Warming-induced Collapse: 1 in 10
Return of the Ice Age: 1 in 2 (see global warming, above as causal event)
In all cases, big cities and desert regions depending on modern systems are a sure path to extinction. There will always be a city in New York; but it could shed 95% of its population. Las Vegas? Forget it. Some day, that city will return to the desert.
For a meteor strike, you'd want to avoid the coastal regions, due to high likelihood of a tsunami. They're overpopulated and depend on imported foodstuffs anyway. For global warming, you should avoid the south, and the interior west. For the return of the ice age, you'd obviously avoid places like New England (oops) and the upper midwest. I think this is the likeliest catastrophic event, given that we're already in an interglacial period of an ice age and that the previous glacial maximums seem to have been preceded by warming periods.
That would suggest states like Kentucky, Tennessee, Missouri, etc. Places where the climate will remain warm enough or cool enough, that can support agriculture without modern levels of technology, and with a low likelihood of get hit with nuclear weapons. I would guess a place on the Mississippi might be a good place to settle. These places might only lose 1/3 - 2/3 of their population in a massive collapse and would be easier to reconnect given the useful waterway that is unlikely to go away.
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
The Meaning of Life*
What's playing on the ipod: Scarborough Fair, Joel Grey
It's currently 60F and raining, which is not weather you like to see in March if you own an inn in ski country. Still a lot of snow, though, so if it cools down this weekend we still should have a couple weeks left before the ski season melts into the river.
I've continued with my somewhat melancholy/nostalgic mood these last few days. I've come to grips with my own mortality--at least for the moment--but about once a year I am caught up in metaphysical musings mostly relating to my position on the timeline.
And isn't it amazing that you are alive and sentient right here, right now? The universe is roughly 15 billion years old, and will continue for at least another 15 billion years. Your lifespan is what? 100 years max? That means you've got a 1/300 million chance of being alive at this exact moment. Yet here you are.
It's that strange coincidence, more than anything else, that makes me wonder about things like the nature of the soul, reincarnation, and the like.
Bringing it back to my own life, I would have never guessed twenty years ago, or even ten years ago, where I'd be now. It makes me excited and apprehensive about what the next twenty years will bring, although I'm happy to be here, residing in my mid-thirties for the moment.
*According to Messrs. Python: "Try and be nice to people, avoid eating fat, read a good book every now and then, get some walking in, and try and live together in peace and harmony with people of all creeds and nations."
It's currently 60F and raining, which is not weather you like to see in March if you own an inn in ski country. Still a lot of snow, though, so if it cools down this weekend we still should have a couple weeks left before the ski season melts into the river.
I've continued with my somewhat melancholy/nostalgic mood these last few days. I've come to grips with my own mortality--at least for the moment--but about once a year I am caught up in metaphysical musings mostly relating to my position on the timeline.
And isn't it amazing that you are alive and sentient right here, right now? The universe is roughly 15 billion years old, and will continue for at least another 15 billion years. Your lifespan is what? 100 years max? That means you've got a 1/300 million chance of being alive at this exact moment. Yet here you are.
It's that strange coincidence, more than anything else, that makes me wonder about things like the nature of the soul, reincarnation, and the like.
Bringing it back to my own life, I would have never guessed twenty years ago, or even ten years ago, where I'd be now. It makes me excited and apprehensive about what the next twenty years will bring, although I'm happy to be here, residing in my mid-thirties for the moment.
*According to Messrs. Python: "Try and be nice to people, avoid eating fat, read a good book every now and then, get some walking in, and try and live together in peace and harmony with people of all creeds and nations."
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
Familiarity vs. Surprise
What's playing on the ipod: I Love the Rainy Night, Eddie Rabbit
We lump the arts together as if they are close relatives. Certainly, they have commonalities, such as creation for primarily aesthetic purposes. Nevertheless, there are profound differences in how one creates art, as well as how one enjoys same.
The primary enjoyment from experiencing fiction or theater comes during the surprise phase. After overcoming the initial resistence of a beginning, one enjoys the book as one discovers its plot. The first time is almost always the best. After you've seen a book or movie several times, it grows progressively less interesting. The emphasis is on novelty.
Art, and especially music, work differently. The first time you hear a song, unfamiliarity creates a slight discomfort. There comes a time, however, when you recognize the song, but before you can hear every chord in your head, when you most feel the thrill of the music. I found this both as a listener and as a (strictly amateur) musician. You never lose the love for a favorite song, but it eventually grows stale.
From the creation side, however, art and literature have similarities. They are almost always the work of a single artist. They require attention to form with novelty springing from an understanding of the rules.
Music and theater, on the other hand, are bifurcated arts. There is a creator, and there is a performer. These two actions can be completely separated and require an entirely different set of skills. The creator/director is more closely aligned with literature or art in habits and required mental skills. The successful musician or actor, as a performer, commands physical and mental agility not unlike that possessed of an athlete.
In the end, it's interesting to consider not just what we call arts, but those things we exclude. For example, ballet is considered part of the arts, but not gymnastics. How about ballroom dancing? What about architecture? Isn't this closely allied with drawing and/or sculpture? Or what about the creation of superior cuisine?
We lump the arts together as if they are close relatives. Certainly, they have commonalities, such as creation for primarily aesthetic purposes. Nevertheless, there are profound differences in how one creates art, as well as how one enjoys same.
The primary enjoyment from experiencing fiction or theater comes during the surprise phase. After overcoming the initial resistence of a beginning, one enjoys the book as one discovers its plot. The first time is almost always the best. After you've seen a book or movie several times, it grows progressively less interesting. The emphasis is on novelty.
Art, and especially music, work differently. The first time you hear a song, unfamiliarity creates a slight discomfort. There comes a time, however, when you recognize the song, but before you can hear every chord in your head, when you most feel the thrill of the music. I found this both as a listener and as a (strictly amateur) musician. You never lose the love for a favorite song, but it eventually grows stale.
From the creation side, however, art and literature have similarities. They are almost always the work of a single artist. They require attention to form with novelty springing from an understanding of the rules.
Music and theater, on the other hand, are bifurcated arts. There is a creator, and there is a performer. These two actions can be completely separated and require an entirely different set of skills. The creator/director is more closely aligned with literature or art in habits and required mental skills. The successful musician or actor, as a performer, commands physical and mental agility not unlike that possessed of an athlete.
In the end, it's interesting to consider not just what we call arts, but those things we exclude. For example, ballet is considered part of the arts, but not gymnastics. How about ballroom dancing? What about architecture? Isn't this closely allied with drawing and/or sculpture? Or what about the creation of superior cuisine?
Monday, March 12, 2007
Moment of Connection with the Past
What's playing on the ipod: Stand or Fall, The Fixx
I found an online archive with photos of my maternal grandfather's family between 1880-1910. During the middle of the 20th Century, my great-grandfather was a wealthy businessman while his brother became governor of Utah around 1950. At the time of the photos they were a fairly prosperous farming family, of recent (but not current) polygamist heritage. My great-grandfather was born in 1889 and my only memory of him dates from 1976, when he fished a silver dollar for me from the desk in his study. We later moved into his house in Springville, Utah, and this is where I lived my childhood from 1977 on.
It was interesting to come across these photos, to see pictures also of my great-great grandfather and my great-great-great grandfather and mother.
I grew up hearing stories of my great-grandfather and the family who settled that part of Utah and is still prominent to this day. My great-grandfather had a reputation for being a brilliant man, aggressive in business, but also generous. Older people in town would tell me how he had offered them jobs during the great depression, and would keep them busy and paid even though there was no economic reason to do so. He did not believe in borrowing money and his company stayed solvent when all of his competitors collapsed under crushing debt.
Of course you hear these stories, but to see pictures of these people, see the humanity in their eyes, to see a bit of an uncle or a cousin in their expression; it reminds you of the ties you have to previous generations. Only a handful of people remain alive from the hundreds of millions alive in the first decade of the 20th Century. They built the modern world; we can still remember them, hear whispers of their lives echoing through ours and the stories and photos we still hold. We see their faces written on our own. And yet, it is fading. These times have become history.
I found an online archive with photos of my maternal grandfather's family between 1880-1910. During the middle of the 20th Century, my great-grandfather was a wealthy businessman while his brother became governor of Utah around 1950. At the time of the photos they were a fairly prosperous farming family, of recent (but not current) polygamist heritage. My great-grandfather was born in 1889 and my only memory of him dates from 1976, when he fished a silver dollar for me from the desk in his study. We later moved into his house in Springville, Utah, and this is where I lived my childhood from 1977 on.
It was interesting to come across these photos, to see pictures also of my great-great grandfather and my great-great-great grandfather and mother.
I grew up hearing stories of my great-grandfather and the family who settled that part of Utah and is still prominent to this day. My great-grandfather had a reputation for being a brilliant man, aggressive in business, but also generous. Older people in town would tell me how he had offered them jobs during the great depression, and would keep them busy and paid even though there was no economic reason to do so. He did not believe in borrowing money and his company stayed solvent when all of his competitors collapsed under crushing debt.
Of course you hear these stories, but to see pictures of these people, see the humanity in their eyes, to see a bit of an uncle or a cousin in their expression; it reminds you of the ties you have to previous generations. Only a handful of people remain alive from the hundreds of millions alive in the first decade of the 20th Century. They built the modern world; we can still remember them, hear whispers of their lives echoing through ours and the stories and photos we still hold. We see their faces written on our own. And yet, it is fading. These times have become history.
Embarassment
What's playing on the ipod: Deep As You Go, October Project
Well, it had to happen sooner or later; I missed a day on the blog. Thank you to all the thousands (nay, tens of thousands) of well-wishers who send worried emails, cards, and singing telegrams, but no, nothing happened to me. Just took a day off.
Okay, for my loyal 8.5 readers per day, here is a new post. Enjoy.
Of all the emotions I experience, the one that still hits me full-force years later is embarassment. Anger, excitement, and jealousy fade with time, but something will remind me of an incident from my childhood and I'll feel a twinge of shame.
When I was in junior high and into my snake-keeping phase, my project for the science fair was an assortment of snakes with information about each. Very popular. Too popular, in fact, and two snakes who usually did not bunk together got riled up by the incessant tapping on the glass and began to fight. The larger of the two snakes constricted the smaller snake.
I was distraught and took the snake out, not sure if it was dead or not. My science teacher had the brilliant idea to lay the snake onto another science project's electric current generator and defibrillate the thing. This naturally attracted quite a crowd. It quickly proved a ludicrous undertaking, and when teacher suggested I continue, I said, "What's next? Mouth-to-mouth resuscitation?"
It turns out that another science teacher at the school was also a meteorologist for the local news and the station sent a crew to cover the science fair for a human interest story. That night on television, it was reported that a student had demonstrated mouth-to-mouth on a snake. Uhm, yes, that had some social repercussions for a junior high student. In fact, my older sister was furious with me because people at the high school kept mentioning it to her and she was put in the unpleasant situation of having to defend her snake-keeping little brother (whose snakes often escaped and found their way into her bedroom, but that's another story).
It could have been worse. There was a kid my age who was supposedly caught masturbating in the back of class when the lights were darkened for a movie.* I was on friendly terms with this kid and never believed these rumors.
At the end of ninth grade, about eighteen months later our grade took an end of the year field trip to the local amusement park. I was on the skyride with this kid (think ski lift that traverses the park) and a kid going the other direction yelled, "Hey! Beat-off King!" I started to say something about kids being jerks and to ignore them, when my friend said quietly, "You know, you make one mistake and people never let you live it down."
Now, that was a pretty dumb thing to do. Junior high kids are not known for their ability to think through consequences. But still...
Nevertheless, it's kind of sad that there are probably numerous people from my junior high who only remember this kid because of one incident.
Where was I? Oh, yes. Embarassment. The fact that I still feel twinges shame over the snake issue (and, by proxy, for the kid caught in a compromising situation at the back of class) speaks to the force of embarassment as a social motivator. I still have a hard time complaining about bad service, or speaking up when I've been wronged simply because I don't like confrontation. Similarly, when I failed to do my French homework a couple of weeks ago, I was ashamed to admit it in front of the class. This class has no grades and I'd been busy enough to have a good excuse for not completing my homework, but the shame of admitting it in front of my peers still managed to motivate me not to let it happen again.
*I can't decide whether the movie in question was extremely boring or somewhat more titillating than the usual fare.
Well, it had to happen sooner or later; I missed a day on the blog. Thank you to all the thousands (nay, tens of thousands) of well-wishers who send worried emails, cards, and singing telegrams, but no, nothing happened to me. Just took a day off.
Okay, for my loyal 8.5 readers per day, here is a new post. Enjoy.
Of all the emotions I experience, the one that still hits me full-force years later is embarassment. Anger, excitement, and jealousy fade with time, but something will remind me of an incident from my childhood and I'll feel a twinge of shame.
When I was in junior high and into my snake-keeping phase, my project for the science fair was an assortment of snakes with information about each. Very popular. Too popular, in fact, and two snakes who usually did not bunk together got riled up by the incessant tapping on the glass and began to fight. The larger of the two snakes constricted the smaller snake.
I was distraught and took the snake out, not sure if it was dead or not. My science teacher had the brilliant idea to lay the snake onto another science project's electric current generator and defibrillate the thing. This naturally attracted quite a crowd. It quickly proved a ludicrous undertaking, and when teacher suggested I continue, I said, "What's next? Mouth-to-mouth resuscitation?"
It turns out that another science teacher at the school was also a meteorologist for the local news and the station sent a crew to cover the science fair for a human interest story. That night on television, it was reported that a student had demonstrated mouth-to-mouth on a snake. Uhm, yes, that had some social repercussions for a junior high student. In fact, my older sister was furious with me because people at the high school kept mentioning it to her and she was put in the unpleasant situation of having to defend her snake-keeping little brother (whose snakes often escaped and found their way into her bedroom, but that's another story).
It could have been worse. There was a kid my age who was supposedly caught masturbating in the back of class when the lights were darkened for a movie.* I was on friendly terms with this kid and never believed these rumors.
At the end of ninth grade, about eighteen months later our grade took an end of the year field trip to the local amusement park. I was on the skyride with this kid (think ski lift that traverses the park) and a kid going the other direction yelled, "Hey! Beat-off King!" I started to say something about kids being jerks and to ignore them, when my friend said quietly, "You know, you make one mistake and people never let you live it down."
Now, that was a pretty dumb thing to do. Junior high kids are not known for their ability to think through consequences. But still...
Nevertheless, it's kind of sad that there are probably numerous people from my junior high who only remember this kid because of one incident.
Where was I? Oh, yes. Embarassment. The fact that I still feel twinges shame over the snake issue (and, by proxy, for the kid caught in a compromising situation at the back of class) speaks to the force of embarassment as a social motivator. I still have a hard time complaining about bad service, or speaking up when I've been wronged simply because I don't like confrontation. Similarly, when I failed to do my French homework a couple of weeks ago, I was ashamed to admit it in front of the class. This class has no grades and I'd been busy enough to have a good excuse for not completing my homework, but the shame of admitting it in front of my peers still managed to motivate me not to let it happen again.
*I can't decide whether the movie in question was extremely boring or somewhat more titillating than the usual fare.
Saturday, March 10, 2007
Beginnings and Transitions
What's playing on the ipod: Beloved, Kate Price
As writers we're trying to grip our reader, make it impossible for him to put down the book. As readers, we're hoping for the same experience. What a great feeling to be so engrossed in a book that the hours fly by, that you look up, blinking through dry eyes and realize that it's after midnight and you've been so swept up in story and character that you had no awareness of time passing.
The opposite is the beginning or the transition. Tension does not yet exist, or must be reestablished. It is work for the reader to ground himself in the story. There are unknown characters, back-story that must be digested. We learn only slowly what is happening and we need time to get involved. It's the main reason why the short story is a more difficult form to read than the novel; a book of short stories requires the investment of a beginning ten or twenty times; a novel only has this one hurdle to overcome.
Now, as writers, we've heard a million times how important it is to start quickly. Character, situation, conflict. Give a character a goal and an opposing force. Don't waste time or you're dead in the water. But transitions between POV characters demand a similar urgency. The first time you move to a second viewpoint character, you're abandoning the hard work of your previous section and asking the reader to pick up and come off with you in a different direction. If you've done it well, this will come at a point when previous matters are highly unsettled; it will be uncomfortable and even irritating to the reader to move in this new direction. You'd better damn well write something worth the effort.
But as you continue, you have an advantage. The unsettled moments in the earlier sections make the reader less annoyed by subsequent transitions. Move between levels of similar tension and the reader may make these transitions eagerly. You're finally going to resolve that earlier mystery. What's more, during the most tense, nail-biting moments of your book, moving to another story--even if operating under similar tension--will be a needed relief.
As writers we're trying to grip our reader, make it impossible for him to put down the book. As readers, we're hoping for the same experience. What a great feeling to be so engrossed in a book that the hours fly by, that you look up, blinking through dry eyes and realize that it's after midnight and you've been so swept up in story and character that you had no awareness of time passing.
The opposite is the beginning or the transition. Tension does not yet exist, or must be reestablished. It is work for the reader to ground himself in the story. There are unknown characters, back-story that must be digested. We learn only slowly what is happening and we need time to get involved. It's the main reason why the short story is a more difficult form to read than the novel; a book of short stories requires the investment of a beginning ten or twenty times; a novel only has this one hurdle to overcome.
Now, as writers, we've heard a million times how important it is to start quickly. Character, situation, conflict. Give a character a goal and an opposing force. Don't waste time or you're dead in the water. But transitions between POV characters demand a similar urgency. The first time you move to a second viewpoint character, you're abandoning the hard work of your previous section and asking the reader to pick up and come off with you in a different direction. If you've done it well, this will come at a point when previous matters are highly unsettled; it will be uncomfortable and even irritating to the reader to move in this new direction. You'd better damn well write something worth the effort.
But as you continue, you have an advantage. The unsettled moments in the earlier sections make the reader less annoyed by subsequent transitions. Move between levels of similar tension and the reader may make these transitions eagerly. You're finally going to resolve that earlier mystery. What's more, during the most tense, nail-biting moments of your book, moving to another story--even if operating under similar tension--will be a needed relief.
Stretch Yourself
What's playing on the ipod: Kryptonite, 3 Doors Down
It's interesting how one's perspective elongates as one ages. Childhood lasts an eternity, and one is always anticipating the next event. How many days until Christmas? Only six more weeks until summer break. I can't wait until I get my driver's license, graduate from high school, turn 21, get my diploma, etc. And then, suddenly, you've passed the last of the major milestones and here is the rest of your life waiting for you.
At this stage, many people enter a holding pattern. They settle into a comfortable rhythm of work, weekends, holidays, and annual vacations. Rinse, repeat. Raise the children, save a little for retirement. Finally, retire and fade away mentally and physically.
I know people--smart, educated people--who attempt no serious challenge after they finish college. They stretched their brains learning calculus or taking a semester or two of German, and that's enough. They might go the rest of their lives without ever trying something hard.
But why not reach for something beyond your present abilities? Learn to play the guitar or write a novel. Teach yourself Italian. Train for a marathon.
Where will you be one year from now? That time is going to arrive, regardless of any action on your part. Maybe at the end of that year you will have learned French or German, or written that novel, or travelled to Istanbul.
It's interesting how one's perspective elongates as one ages. Childhood lasts an eternity, and one is always anticipating the next event. How many days until Christmas? Only six more weeks until summer break. I can't wait until I get my driver's license, graduate from high school, turn 21, get my diploma, etc. And then, suddenly, you've passed the last of the major milestones and here is the rest of your life waiting for you.
At this stage, many people enter a holding pattern. They settle into a comfortable rhythm of work, weekends, holidays, and annual vacations. Rinse, repeat. Raise the children, save a little for retirement. Finally, retire and fade away mentally and physically.
I know people--smart, educated people--who attempt no serious challenge after they finish college. They stretched their brains learning calculus or taking a semester or two of German, and that's enough. They might go the rest of their lives without ever trying something hard.
But why not reach for something beyond your present abilities? Learn to play the guitar or write a novel. Teach yourself Italian. Train for a marathon.
Where will you be one year from now? That time is going to arrive, regardless of any action on your part. Maybe at the end of that year you will have learned French or German, or written that novel, or travelled to Istanbul.
Friday, March 9, 2007
Inferiority of Tastes
What's playing on the ipod: Rooster, Alice in Chains
Why is it that when something edgy is playing on the ipod like Alice in Chains, I feel almost proud. Cause yeah, they come to snuff the Rooster. When Erasure, or something similarly light and fluffy is playing, I'm almost embarassed to say what I've been listening to. If I were reading Marcel Proust on the airplane I would hold up my book so that others could see it. If I were reading Danielle Steele, I would try to hide the cover inside my in-flight magazine.
Think about it. Air Supply or Bach. Or better, Domenico Scarlatti. How about Titanic versus The Piano. Hell, why not a Snickers versus Godiva chocolate or a Coors versus a Sam Adams.
We're so shallow that we can't just enjoy our pedestrian tastes. And other people will bully us for enjoying the low brow over the gourmet. Why is that? Is it a moral failing to enjoy Celine Dion? I mean--ehem!--hypothetically speaking? Cause it's not that I do or anything...
Why is it that when something edgy is playing on the ipod like Alice in Chains, I feel almost proud. Cause yeah, they come to snuff the Rooster. When Erasure, or something similarly light and fluffy is playing, I'm almost embarassed to say what I've been listening to. If I were reading Marcel Proust on the airplane I would hold up my book so that others could see it. If I were reading Danielle Steele, I would try to hide the cover inside my in-flight magazine.
Think about it. Air Supply or Bach. Or better, Domenico Scarlatti. How about Titanic versus The Piano. Hell, why not a Snickers versus Godiva chocolate or a Coors versus a Sam Adams.
We're so shallow that we can't just enjoy our pedestrian tastes. And other people will bully us for enjoying the low brow over the gourmet. Why is that? Is it a moral failing to enjoy Celine Dion? I mean--ehem!--hypothetically speaking? Cause it's not that I do or anything...
The Cold is Easing
What's playing on the ipod: Angel, Aerosmith
I'm not sure I've seen a more dramatic shift in weather than what we've seen between yesterday and today. Last night we hit -23F, which approaches records for this time in March. By tomorrow, we'll hit 40. We've already climbed a good 20 degrees today, but there's more to come.
Imagine a swing of 63 degrees in the summer, going from freezing to upper 90s in one day. It's dramatic enough in the winter. Looking ahead, it looks like we just passed the last sharp cold of the winter.
I'm a skier and owning an inn near a ski resort, my livelihood depends in part on good winter weather. Yet, I'm excited to see spring come. Some of it is the thought of double-digging and planting my garden in the next couple of months, as well as other spring/summer projects. Some is the trip to Provence at the end of April.
But there's also the feeling that I'm entering a new spring-time of my life. Yes, the writing process is slow, and no, there's no guarantee that Kim will sell my novel, but with a strong agent in hand, a good, commercial book, and a well-timed idea, I believe that things are coming together in a way that is going to change my life.
I'm not sure I've seen a more dramatic shift in weather than what we've seen between yesterday and today. Last night we hit -23F, which approaches records for this time in March. By tomorrow, we'll hit 40. We've already climbed a good 20 degrees today, but there's more to come.
Imagine a swing of 63 degrees in the summer, going from freezing to upper 90s in one day. It's dramatic enough in the winter. Looking ahead, it looks like we just passed the last sharp cold of the winter.
I'm a skier and owning an inn near a ski resort, my livelihood depends in part on good winter weather. Yet, I'm excited to see spring come. Some of it is the thought of double-digging and planting my garden in the next couple of months, as well as other spring/summer projects. Some is the trip to Provence at the end of April.
But there's also the feeling that I'm entering a new spring-time of my life. Yes, the writing process is slow, and no, there's no guarantee that Kim will sell my novel, but with a strong agent in hand, a good, commercial book, and a well-timed idea, I believe that things are coming together in a way that is going to change my life.
One Bite at a Time
What's playing on the ipod: Suddenly I See, KT Tunstall
I just noticed that I'm up to 56 posts on this blog. Seems like a lot. Too many thoughts, many randomly gathered, and a lot of wordage. And yet, I just started this blog in February.
What's the old saying? How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time.
It's like writing a novel. When I finally print out the book for the first time for the sake of line editing, it's amazing to me that I wrote the whole thing over just a few months. And it's daunting every time I write that first sentence, knowing the long journey that faces me.
The way I manage to write a novel is not to focus on the end goal, but to concentrate on the process. My goal is only 1,000 words. I will write 1,000 words today and it doesn't matter what I wrote yesterday, last week, or what I'll write tomorrow. From that point, I stick to that schedule, producing 1,000 words each and every day. Of course, there are days when I write more, as sometimes I get into a rhythm, especially when I'm in that last third of the book when everything comes together (or, more accurately, explodes into pieces).
It's amazing how quickly the progress mounts when I stick to that pace. Within just a few weeks I'm already up to my knees and wading deeper. Within six to eight weeks I can see the end, even if it's just a distant pinprick of light.
As I mentioned before, I'm somewhat scattered. I have a hard time maintaining interest in a project or task over the long-haul. Fortunately, writing lends itself to short bursts of energy. It lends itself to this method on both the daily and the yearly level. Get your 1,000 words done and you can move on. Get your novel written and you can take a break.
I just noticed that I'm up to 56 posts on this blog. Seems like a lot. Too many thoughts, many randomly gathered, and a lot of wordage. And yet, I just started this blog in February.
What's the old saying? How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time.
It's like writing a novel. When I finally print out the book for the first time for the sake of line editing, it's amazing to me that I wrote the whole thing over just a few months. And it's daunting every time I write that first sentence, knowing the long journey that faces me.
The way I manage to write a novel is not to focus on the end goal, but to concentrate on the process. My goal is only 1,000 words. I will write 1,000 words today and it doesn't matter what I wrote yesterday, last week, or what I'll write tomorrow. From that point, I stick to that schedule, producing 1,000 words each and every day. Of course, there are days when I write more, as sometimes I get into a rhythm, especially when I'm in that last third of the book when everything comes together (or, more accurately, explodes into pieces).
It's amazing how quickly the progress mounts when I stick to that pace. Within just a few weeks I'm already up to my knees and wading deeper. Within six to eight weeks I can see the end, even if it's just a distant pinprick of light.
As I mentioned before, I'm somewhat scattered. I have a hard time maintaining interest in a project or task over the long-haul. Fortunately, writing lends itself to short bursts of energy. It lends itself to this method on both the daily and the yearly level. Get your 1,000 words done and you can move on. Get your novel written and you can take a break.
Thursday, March 8, 2007
Understanding the Other
What's playing on the ipod: Pobre Changuita, Lila Downs
I had a conversation with someone in Mexico yesterday via IRC. It turned out to be the first time she'd ever spoken with an American. In fact, she doubted me at first when I told her I was not just in America, but of purely gringo heritage. You can't hear accents in text. Of course, I soon made some mistake or other and disabused her of that notion.
She had plenty of views about Americans, most of them containing some grain of truth (as most stereotypes do) but also containing sweeping generalizations. It's odd that someone could say, "Americans are thusly..." when talking about a nation of 300 million people. Of course, plenty of people up here do the same thing or worse.
Stereotypes can be useful. For a tribe of Sioux or Comanche, believing that the White Man will cheat you out of your tribal lands is probably not true in 90% of the cases, but there's no way to recover from trusting those 10% who prove to be complete scoundrels. The same goes for sticking objects in your ears, eating strange mushrooms, walking into bad neighborhoods alone at night, not wearing a seatbelt, and a host of other activities and beliefs. The minority result is severe enough that it is wise to stereotype.
We'll leave aside the political consequences of stereotyping as not germane to this blog. However, as a writer, the key to effective characters is to look at people as individuals, not types. I'm not just talking about the brittle feminist, the angry black man, the effeminate gay man, or the Great White Hunter, although that certainly applies. What I mean is that in a given situation, too many writers lazily pick the most common reaction, based on stereotypical reaction to same. The atypical, the startling response can be what drives story and character. It makes us curious, and curiosity is a great thing to inspire in the reader.
See if you can find an atypical reaction to these events.
* A man comes into a convenience store with a gun. How does the clerk react?
* A woman learns that her child has leukemia. What does she do?
* A child is tormented by a bully. What is his reaction?
Each of these has an obvious reaction from the clerk, mother, or child. An atypical response would be unexpected and thus more interesting.
I had a conversation with someone in Mexico yesterday via IRC. It turned out to be the first time she'd ever spoken with an American. In fact, she doubted me at first when I told her I was not just in America, but of purely gringo heritage. You can't hear accents in text. Of course, I soon made some mistake or other and disabused her of that notion.
She had plenty of views about Americans, most of them containing some grain of truth (as most stereotypes do) but also containing sweeping generalizations. It's odd that someone could say, "Americans are thusly..." when talking about a nation of 300 million people. Of course, plenty of people up here do the same thing or worse.
Stereotypes can be useful. For a tribe of Sioux or Comanche, believing that the White Man will cheat you out of your tribal lands is probably not true in 90% of the cases, but there's no way to recover from trusting those 10% who prove to be complete scoundrels. The same goes for sticking objects in your ears, eating strange mushrooms, walking into bad neighborhoods alone at night, not wearing a seatbelt, and a host of other activities and beliefs. The minority result is severe enough that it is wise to stereotype.
We'll leave aside the political consequences of stereotyping as not germane to this blog. However, as a writer, the key to effective characters is to look at people as individuals, not types. I'm not just talking about the brittle feminist, the angry black man, the effeminate gay man, or the Great White Hunter, although that certainly applies. What I mean is that in a given situation, too many writers lazily pick the most common reaction, based on stereotypical reaction to same. The atypical, the startling response can be what drives story and character. It makes us curious, and curiosity is a great thing to inspire in the reader.
See if you can find an atypical reaction to these events.
* A man comes into a convenience store with a gun. How does the clerk react?
* A woman learns that her child has leukemia. What does she do?
* A child is tormented by a bully. What is his reaction?
Each of these has an obvious reaction from the clerk, mother, or child. An atypical response would be unexpected and thus more interesting.
Wednesday, March 7, 2007
Backspace
What's playing on the ipod: Amanda, Boston
So much of the time we work in a vacuum. We work, we read, we revise, and we have no idea if what we're doing works or not. And for most of us, our first steps toward publication are fumbling, awkward affairs. I can remember reading slush for a small press magazine and having manuscripts arrive single-spaced or printed with red ink. These stories are invariably of wretched quality.
But for anyone who continues, wonders with irritation why it's so damn hard, and looks for a way to improve, the idea of a writer's group comes up sooner or later. In the old days, this meant being fortunate enough to live close to others at your same skill level and with your same aspirations. I belonged to a terrific group in the mid-90s that really got me thinking about how to think and act like a professional. We met weekly, critiqued each other's stories, and fed off the mutual energy.
These days I live in the backwoods of Northern New England and there aren't many writers around. Fortunately, I've found a great online community at Backspace, populated by dozens of published novelists and a bunch of skilled aspiring writers. You have to pay $20.00/year to join, but this nominal fee does a good job of refining the participants into a serious core. Lots of good information here, especially about the career-side of the business.
To get anything useful out of Backspace, you should already know how to write, even if you're not quite there yet, and you should be writing novels, rather than short stories. Join, participate, and you can get almost any kind of help that you need.
So much of the time we work in a vacuum. We work, we read, we revise, and we have no idea if what we're doing works or not. And for most of us, our first steps toward publication are fumbling, awkward affairs. I can remember reading slush for a small press magazine and having manuscripts arrive single-spaced or printed with red ink. These stories are invariably of wretched quality.
But for anyone who continues, wonders with irritation why it's so damn hard, and looks for a way to improve, the idea of a writer's group comes up sooner or later. In the old days, this meant being fortunate enough to live close to others at your same skill level and with your same aspirations. I belonged to a terrific group in the mid-90s that really got me thinking about how to think and act like a professional. We met weekly, critiqued each other's stories, and fed off the mutual energy.
These days I live in the backwoods of Northern New England and there aren't many writers around. Fortunately, I've found a great online community at Backspace, populated by dozens of published novelists and a bunch of skilled aspiring writers. You have to pay $20.00/year to join, but this nominal fee does a good job of refining the participants into a serious core. Lots of good information here, especially about the career-side of the business.
To get anything useful out of Backspace, you should already know how to write, even if you're not quite there yet, and you should be writing novels, rather than short stories. Join, participate, and you can get almost any kind of help that you need.
Multi-Tasking
What's playing on the ipod: Funky Town, Lipps, Inc.
I used to shake my head at people who read multiple books at a time. What's wrong with one book that you can't simply sit down and read it all the way through? Over the years, I've become ever more scattered with my reading habits. At the moment I'm reading a history of France, a French grammar book, Benighted, by Kit Whitfeld, and The Witching Hour, by Anne Rice.
I've repeated this pattern in my life. I frequently sit down at the computer, listen to Ciencia al Día on BBC Mundo, brainstorm my novel for a bit, write a blog post, pull up my reader to follow my blogs, stop for a game of Freecell or mahjong, check some boards, go back to my book, go to nytimes.com, etc. I can do this sort of thing for hours, and when I sit at the television, I'm little better.
It worries me from time to time, but when ox is in the mire I can tighten my focus and get thing accomplished. Or so I tell myself...
I used to shake my head at people who read multiple books at a time. What's wrong with one book that you can't simply sit down and read it all the way through? Over the years, I've become ever more scattered with my reading habits. At the moment I'm reading a history of France, a French grammar book, Benighted, by Kit Whitfeld, and The Witching Hour, by Anne Rice.
I've repeated this pattern in my life. I frequently sit down at the computer, listen to Ciencia al Día on BBC Mundo, brainstorm my novel for a bit, write a blog post, pull up my reader to follow my blogs, stop for a game of Freecell or mahjong, check some boards, go back to my book, go to nytimes.com, etc. I can do this sort of thing for hours, and when I sit at the television, I'm little better.
It worries me from time to time, but when ox is in the mire I can tighten my focus and get thing accomplished. Or so I tell myself...
Tuesday, March 6, 2007
Alexandre Dumas
What's playing on the ipod: La Gota Fría, Tarpuy
One of the most overlooked writers of the 19th Century is Alexandre Dumas. I say overlooked not because he has been forgotten--indeed, his novels such as The Man in the Iron Mask, The Three Musketeers, and The Count of Monte Cristo have been adapted numerous times by Hollywood, and continue to be read today--but because Dumas is overlooked for his historical value. Notably the grandson of a Haitian slave* (known in those days as a quadroon), Dumas' subjects feel contemporary in spite of their historical context. As his books are so readable, they would be the perfect compliment to some of the deadly dull offerings in college literature courses dealing with the subjects of race and class.
But from my perspective, I'm surprised that Dumas' work is not acknowledged for its seminal role in the development of the modern novel. His plotting and his pacing is more akin to modern works than the languid pacing of other 19th Century novelists like Dickens, Melville. Slower still, Tolstoy's Война и мiръ,** ranked by Time as the third greatest book of all times.
Dumas has been derided since the earliest days of his writing for many of the same reasons people have criticized Stephen King. The fact that people still read him, for pleasure, not homework, 150 years later says something about his modernity of form and subject, if nothing else.
*Dumas' father, Thomás-Alexandre Dumas is a fascinating historical figure in himself. He was born the son of a black slave and the Général commissaire of Sainte-Dominigue and became a notable general in the French Revolution, rising to that rank on personal brilliance at the age of 31. His refusal to put down a slave rebellion in Haiti helped secure the only successful slave revolt in history. His mixed race background speaks to the complexity of race in French culture that is different than the Anglo-American experience.
Someone should write a novel about the guy.
**Sorry, I just wanted to be annoying and write that in Russian. I'm sure you know the book I mean. Have you ever read The Name of the Rose? How about the bits of undigested Greek plopped right in the middle of the story? It's the perfect book for the language nerd.
One of the most overlooked writers of the 19th Century is Alexandre Dumas. I say overlooked not because he has been forgotten--indeed, his novels such as The Man in the Iron Mask, The Three Musketeers, and The Count of Monte Cristo have been adapted numerous times by Hollywood, and continue to be read today--but because Dumas is overlooked for his historical value. Notably the grandson of a Haitian slave* (known in those days as a quadroon), Dumas' subjects feel contemporary in spite of their historical context. As his books are so readable, they would be the perfect compliment to some of the deadly dull offerings in college literature courses dealing with the subjects of race and class.
But from my perspective, I'm surprised that Dumas' work is not acknowledged for its seminal role in the development of the modern novel. His plotting and his pacing is more akin to modern works than the languid pacing of other 19th Century novelists like Dickens, Melville. Slower still, Tolstoy's Война и мiръ,** ranked by Time as the third greatest book of all times.
Dumas has been derided since the earliest days of his writing for many of the same reasons people have criticized Stephen King. The fact that people still read him, for pleasure, not homework, 150 years later says something about his modernity of form and subject, if nothing else.
*Dumas' father, Thomás-Alexandre Dumas is a fascinating historical figure in himself. He was born the son of a black slave and the Général commissaire of Sainte-Dominigue and became a notable general in the French Revolution, rising to that rank on personal brilliance at the age of 31. His refusal to put down a slave rebellion in Haiti helped secure the only successful slave revolt in history. His mixed race background speaks to the complexity of race in French culture that is different than the Anglo-American experience.
Someone should write a novel about the guy.
**Sorry, I just wanted to be annoying and write that in Russian. I'm sure you know the book I mean. Have you ever read The Name of the Rose? How about the bits of undigested Greek plopped right in the middle of the story? It's the perfect book for the language nerd.
Is it Spring Yet?
What's playing on the ipod: Blue Collar Man, Styx
It's somewhat disingenuous for me to say this after having taken advantage of winter's bounty by skiing both Sunday and Monday, but I'm ready for spring. It's currently 8 degrees below zero (Farenheit) and my trip to Provence in April seems very distant indeed. I could use an escape right now, but I'm just too busy at the inn to get away.
As those who know me in real life know, I'm an inveterate traveller, but so far this year I only have trips planned to France and Canada. I still need something for May-ish and something for when the foliage season ends in mid-October and things slow down at the inn. I'm toying with going to either Israel or Turkey. I'd love to go even farther afield, such as India or Madagascar, but the time zone changes and travel time are too much for a two week trip.
It's somewhat disingenuous for me to say this after having taken advantage of winter's bounty by skiing both Sunday and Monday, but I'm ready for spring. It's currently 8 degrees below zero (Farenheit) and my trip to Provence in April seems very distant indeed. I could use an escape right now, but I'm just too busy at the inn to get away.
As those who know me in real life know, I'm an inveterate traveller, but so far this year I only have trips planned to France and Canada. I still need something for May-ish and something for when the foliage season ends in mid-October and things slow down at the inn. I'm toying with going to either Israel or Turkey. I'd love to go even farther afield, such as India or Madagascar, but the time zone changes and travel time are too much for a two week trip.
Monday, March 5, 2007
Pacing
What's playing on the ipod: Storm on the Sea, Thompson Twins
Agent Nathan Bransford has a post about novel pacing. He says that one of the biggest flaws he sees in submissions is too slow pacing. Someone opines in the comments that pacing can be too fast, as well.
And it's important to note that different people have different tastes in pacing. One problem I have with the Dan Brown, James Patterson style of pacing is that it goes too damn fast for me. I want to slow down a bit, feel the tension mount. I don't like the page and a half chapters or the two sentence paragraphs. Not with any regularity. Not everyone has to be Anne Rice or Stephen King, where the author feels free to stop dead for a hundred pages of back story, but personally, I prefer a slow simmer to a quick broil.
Perhaps a better way to look at this is to say that your temperature should be climbing. There might be brief periods where you offer the reader a respite after a middle-section set piece, but do not wait very long before ratcheting up the tension again. If the tension is there, you have some flexibility with pacing.
Agent Nathan Bransford has a post about novel pacing. He says that one of the biggest flaws he sees in submissions is too slow pacing. Someone opines in the comments that pacing can be too fast, as well.
And it's important to note that different people have different tastes in pacing. One problem I have with the Dan Brown, James Patterson style of pacing is that it goes too damn fast for me. I want to slow down a bit, feel the tension mount. I don't like the page and a half chapters or the two sentence paragraphs. Not with any regularity. Not everyone has to be Anne Rice or Stephen King, where the author feels free to stop dead for a hundred pages of back story, but personally, I prefer a slow simmer to a quick broil.
Perhaps a better way to look at this is to say that your temperature should be climbing. There might be brief periods where you offer the reader a respite after a middle-section set piece, but do not wait very long before ratcheting up the tension again. If the tension is there, you have some flexibility with pacing.
Plot and Structure
What's playing on the ipod: Sombrero de Papel, Tarpuy
I'm reading an interesting book called Plot & Structure, by James Scott Bell. It's got lots of good advice about plotting and structuring your novel for tension. He makes this point:
"Think of tension stretching as an elongation of bad times."
This is a tricky one to internalize. We become misled by the rapid pace of action real-time within the story into thinking that we have to hurry and get the events finished on paper. In reality, these are precisely the places where we should slow down. The tension comes not from the act itself, but from the uncertainty, from the dread and/or anticipation of an event. The reader is far more patient in reading if you tighten those screws just to the point of discomfort and then keeping the pressure on.
Think of that infamous scene in The Shining (especially the book version, but also the movie) where the boy is standing outside the hotel room about to go in. We know there's something terrible inside. King keeps us outside, wondering, dreading what the boy will find for page after page. Only when the tension is too much to handle does take us inside.
Bell also makes the point that if you overwrite the tense scenes in your first draft, you can always trim back in revisions. The opposite is tougher.
I'm reading an interesting book called Plot & Structure, by James Scott Bell. It's got lots of good advice about plotting and structuring your novel for tension. He makes this point:
"Think of tension stretching as an elongation of bad times."
This is a tricky one to internalize. We become misled by the rapid pace of action real-time within the story into thinking that we have to hurry and get the events finished on paper. In reality, these are precisely the places where we should slow down. The tension comes not from the act itself, but from the uncertainty, from the dread and/or anticipation of an event. The reader is far more patient in reading if you tighten those screws just to the point of discomfort and then keeping the pressure on.
Think of that infamous scene in The Shining (especially the book version, but also the movie) where the boy is standing outside the hotel room about to go in. We know there's something terrible inside. King keeps us outside, wondering, dreading what the boy will find for page after page. Only when the tension is too much to handle does take us inside.
Bell also makes the point that if you overwrite the tense scenes in your first draft, you can always trim back in revisions. The opposite is tougher.
Sunday, March 4, 2007
Skiing New Trails
What's playing on the ipod: Bigmouth Strikes Again, The Smiths
I skied a new trail today. It was at the top of a lift servicing only black diamonds and even though I have skied numerous black diamonds before, in those cases I was able to scope out the terrain from something simpler--usually a blue groomer--before taking the plunge. The thing is, I'd wanted to ride this lift for the last three winters but the conditions were not ideal, I was not skiing well that day, or whatever other excuse I could concoct. Ocassionally, I would even ski to the bottom of the lift, almost get in the line, and then bail out and go ski something familiar. Today, snow great, feeling like I needed to stretch myself, I took the lift. Did the run twice. It was tough, but not overwhelmingly so.
And I feel good.
It makes me wonder if I'm just skiing blue groomers in my writing. I've pushed myself to a certain level and now that I can ski it comfortably, I'm happiest to keep to those same trails.
But as they tell you in skiing, if you're not falling down every once in awhile, you're not learning. Push yourself, not to the point to where you get injured, but just enough to keep progressing. I think I need to do this with my writing if I want to avoid hitting a plateau and staying there.
So what skills do I wish I had? Where can I push myself onto new terrain?
I skied a new trail today. It was at the top of a lift servicing only black diamonds and even though I have skied numerous black diamonds before, in those cases I was able to scope out the terrain from something simpler--usually a blue groomer--before taking the plunge. The thing is, I'd wanted to ride this lift for the last three winters but the conditions were not ideal, I was not skiing well that day, or whatever other excuse I could concoct. Ocassionally, I would even ski to the bottom of the lift, almost get in the line, and then bail out and go ski something familiar. Today, snow great, feeling like I needed to stretch myself, I took the lift. Did the run twice. It was tough, but not overwhelmingly so.
And I feel good.
It makes me wonder if I'm just skiing blue groomers in my writing. I've pushed myself to a certain level and now that I can ski it comfortably, I'm happiest to keep to those same trails.
But as they tell you in skiing, if you're not falling down every once in awhile, you're not learning. Push yourself, not to the point to where you get injured, but just enough to keep progressing. I think I need to do this with my writing if I want to avoid hitting a plateau and staying there.
So what skills do I wish I had? Where can I push myself onto new terrain?
Saturday, March 3, 2007
Language and Writing
What's playing on the ipod: In the Flat Field, Bauhaus
It's no surprise that our earliest memories are tied to the age at which we begin to understand language. Language is the lattice upon which thought hangs and the code by which we store memory. The language we speak colors the way we think. Famously, there are the languages with many words for snow, or that don't have words for larger numbers, but even among closely related languages, there are different ways to approach even the simplest of statements.
For example, to say, I dropped it in Spanish, you could say either, "Lo dejé caer" or "se me cayó."
One implies that the dropping was voluntary. The other that it fell from you by accident.
Or, consider how one can consciously conceal gender in English. "Actually, I ran into one of my friends when I was in New York and we caught a show together." It's an innocent phrase, but maybe the speaker knows his wife will be jealous if she knows said friend was a woman. You can't say this in a Romance language because the gender is contained in the word itself. Un ami, une amie.
Further, there are some things that simply do not translate. You can get to the meaning through a translation, but it will be imperfect and will fail to carry all the implications of the original language.
In studying both Spanish and French, I came to a point of fluency where I realized mid-conversation that my mind was working in an entirely different way. It was almost like I had become a different person, so much had the newly constructed lattice of that language imposed itself on my thoughts.
Reading a good book is a little like this. There comes a time when the real world forces you to emerge from your novel and you look around and blink and realize you're not actually carrying the Ring of Power across the blasted plains of Mordor. There is no axe-wielding psycho stalking you through the halls of the Overlook Hotel, but you are, in fact, still sitting in your apartment. Oh, but you've really, really got to pee and the hallway looks dark and spooky...
It's no surprise that our earliest memories are tied to the age at which we begin to understand language. Language is the lattice upon which thought hangs and the code by which we store memory. The language we speak colors the way we think. Famously, there are the languages with many words for snow, or that don't have words for larger numbers, but even among closely related languages, there are different ways to approach even the simplest of statements.
For example, to say, I dropped it in Spanish, you could say either, "Lo dejé caer" or "se me cayó."
One implies that the dropping was voluntary. The other that it fell from you by accident.
Or, consider how one can consciously conceal gender in English. "Actually, I ran into one of my friends when I was in New York and we caught a show together." It's an innocent phrase, but maybe the speaker knows his wife will be jealous if she knows said friend was a woman. You can't say this in a Romance language because the gender is contained in the word itself. Un ami, une amie.
Further, there are some things that simply do not translate. You can get to the meaning through a translation, but it will be imperfect and will fail to carry all the implications of the original language.
In studying both Spanish and French, I came to a point of fluency where I realized mid-conversation that my mind was working in an entirely different way. It was almost like I had become a different person, so much had the newly constructed lattice of that language imposed itself on my thoughts.
Reading a good book is a little like this. There comes a time when the real world forces you to emerge from your novel and you look around and blink and realize you're not actually carrying the Ring of Power across the blasted plains of Mordor. There is no axe-wielding psycho stalking you through the halls of the Overlook Hotel, but you are, in fact, still sitting in your apartment. Oh, but you've really, really got to pee and the hallway looks dark and spooky...
Character and Pattern
What's playing on the ipod: Separate Ways, Journey
I've talked before about how fiction satisfies a need for creating form from the formless, for taking a fascilmile of the real world but removing the random element. I'm currently working on my main characters of my next novel (working title: Brainlock) and trying to find patterns and mirrors. What makes my main characters ideal for tackling this particular problem?
It occurs to me that this is one of the main failings of so many series. The author has found the perfect mix of plot and character, but when she moves to Book Two, the main character is left without context. Either that, or the novel is a repeat of the first book.
I've figured out the scope of Brainlock, and I've worked through initial crime itself, who committed it and why. I've figured out who is murdered to start the book and why. I've got about 80% of the pieces lined up, but I still need to work out how the characters are related and how these relationships will deepen during the novel.
I've talked before about how fiction satisfies a need for creating form from the formless, for taking a fascilmile of the real world but removing the random element. I'm currently working on my main characters of my next novel (working title: Brainlock) and trying to find patterns and mirrors. What makes my main characters ideal for tackling this particular problem?
It occurs to me that this is one of the main failings of so many series. The author has found the perfect mix of plot and character, but when she moves to Book Two, the main character is left without context. Either that, or the novel is a repeat of the first book.
I've figured out the scope of Brainlock, and I've worked through initial crime itself, who committed it and why. I've figured out who is murdered to start the book and why. I've got about 80% of the pieces lined up, but I still need to work out how the characters are related and how these relationships will deepen during the novel.
Friday, March 2, 2007
Agent Response Times
What's playing on the ipod: Sweet Child O'Mine, Guns 'N Roses
Agent Lori Perkins asks on her blog if she should apologize for her slow response time, citing the mind-boggling sum of 30,000 queries a year. A blog reader opines that that since all agents receive 30,000 queries a year and so this wasn't a good excuse. Lori responded:
Every agent does not get 30,000 queries. Only agents with good reputations get that many. Most get 12,000, which is why they can get back to authors so fast.
But it doesn't matter if you get 30 in a year or 30,000, you've either got to process them at the same rate as they come in or your response time will get ever longer. It doesn't matter if your response time is six days or six months, you'll eventually need to find an equilibrium where they come in as fast as they go out. The problem is, you're probably just keeping your head above water with that volume; any disruption and you'll quickly get behind and then it's almost impossible to get caught up.
Having said all that, I think you're doing yourself a disservice if you're not a fast responder in comparison to other agencies. If an author sends a good novel to twenty agents, then the fastest ones will get the shot to sign that author. If you're one of the slower responders, the only writers left will be the ones none of the fast agents wanted to sign.
This sort of thing happened to me. I queried a list of agents and ended up sending requested fulls and choosing between several agents within two months from my first queries. Two months after that, I was still getting requests from some very good agents, but by then it was too late.
As an aside, bloggers like Lori provide an invaluable insight into the agency side of the publishing industry. It's also brave to ask honest questions like this when so many aspiring writers develop anger toward the people who reject their work.
Agent Lori Perkins asks on her blog if she should apologize for her slow response time, citing the mind-boggling sum of 30,000 queries a year. A blog reader opines that that since all agents receive 30,000 queries a year and so this wasn't a good excuse. Lori responded:
Every agent does not get 30,000 queries. Only agents with good reputations get that many. Most get 12,000, which is why they can get back to authors so fast.
But it doesn't matter if you get 30 in a year or 30,000, you've either got to process them at the same rate as they come in or your response time will get ever longer. It doesn't matter if your response time is six days or six months, you'll eventually need to find an equilibrium where they come in as fast as they go out. The problem is, you're probably just keeping your head above water with that volume; any disruption and you'll quickly get behind and then it's almost impossible to get caught up.
Having said all that, I think you're doing yourself a disservice if you're not a fast responder in comparison to other agencies. If an author sends a good novel to twenty agents, then the fastest ones will get the shot to sign that author. If you're one of the slower responders, the only writers left will be the ones none of the fast agents wanted to sign.
This sort of thing happened to me. I queried a list of agents and ended up sending requested fulls and choosing between several agents within two months from my first queries. Two months after that, I was still getting requests from some very good agents, but by then it was too late.
As an aside, bloggers like Lori provide an invaluable insight into the agency side of the publishing industry. It's also brave to ask honest questions like this when so many aspiring writers develop anger toward the people who reject their work.
Big Advances, Big Problems
What's playing on the ipod: If You Were Here, Thompson Twins
I can remember attending the Kris & Dean Show about ten years ago and hearing them talk about trading up problems. As a new writer, you are absolutely consumed with the need to publish. Anything else, including such trivialities as advances, rights, sustaining a career, the dreaded midlist designation, etc., is so far out of the scope of your worries as to be annoying when bemoaned by the likes of Kris and Dean.
Nothing epitomizes this condition more than the reaction of the unpublished to a writer who complains that his advance was too large and hence wrecked his chances to build a career. Really, shut the *&%! up already.
And yet, I absolutely understand why this happens. It's not sour grapes, or the equivalent of someone complaining about their steak was overcooked in the middle of a famine. I once caught myself at a SF convention where an aspiring writer was complimenting my story in F&SF and how she'd love to sell to that market and I told her, "Yeah, but I'm having a hard time selling them another story." Gosh, I thought, that sounded asinine.
The thing is, we have a natural level of happiness and satisfaction to which we gravitate. If you are a sour person, selling your book will not make you cheerful for more than an instant. If you are the sort that is always striving to reach the next level, you will focus on those obstacles that still remain. It is this latter point, I think, that we see when we hear a writer talking complaining about a small print run or a bad cover.
And yet it is important to remember that a writing career is a gift. Even if that career is modest and does not bring you fame nor fortune, being able to sell your thoughts and your stories and sharing your craft with others is something to which many, many people aspire.
Apropos of nothing, isn't hazelnut a great flavor? I'm sipping some Green Mountain Coffee Roasters hazelnut, sweetened with just a touch of Vermont maple syrup and it's bien rico.
I can remember attending the Kris & Dean Show about ten years ago and hearing them talk about trading up problems. As a new writer, you are absolutely consumed with the need to publish. Anything else, including such trivialities as advances, rights, sustaining a career, the dreaded midlist designation, etc., is so far out of the scope of your worries as to be annoying when bemoaned by the likes of Kris and Dean.
Nothing epitomizes this condition more than the reaction of the unpublished to a writer who complains that his advance was too large and hence wrecked his chances to build a career. Really, shut the *&%! up already.
And yet, I absolutely understand why this happens. It's not sour grapes, or the equivalent of someone complaining about their steak was overcooked in the middle of a famine. I once caught myself at a SF convention where an aspiring writer was complimenting my story in F&SF and how she'd love to sell to that market and I told her, "Yeah, but I'm having a hard time selling them another story." Gosh, I thought, that sounded asinine.
The thing is, we have a natural level of happiness and satisfaction to which we gravitate. If you are a sour person, selling your book will not make you cheerful for more than an instant. If you are the sort that is always striving to reach the next level, you will focus on those obstacles that still remain. It is this latter point, I think, that we see when we hear a writer talking complaining about a small print run or a bad cover.
And yet it is important to remember that a writing career is a gift. Even if that career is modest and does not bring you fame nor fortune, being able to sell your thoughts and your stories and sharing your craft with others is something to which many, many people aspire.
Apropos of nothing, isn't hazelnut a great flavor? I'm sipping some Green Mountain Coffee Roasters hazelnut, sweetened with just a touch of Vermont maple syrup and it's bien rico.
Thursday, March 1, 2007
Blogs I Read: Sarah Weinman
What's playing on the ipod: Waiting for a Girl Like You, Foreigner
Blog: Confessions of an Idiosyncratic Mind
Sarah Weinman is an editor for GalleyCat at mediabistro.com, as well as a mystery and crime writer. She's got lots of nitty-gritty details about the publishing industry. It's not quite as useful as the stuff on GalleyCat itself, but often more in depth and interesting.
Blog: Confessions of an Idiosyncratic Mind
Sarah Weinman is an editor for GalleyCat at mediabistro.com, as well as a mystery and crime writer. She's got lots of nitty-gritty details about the publishing industry. It's not quite as useful as the stuff on GalleyCat itself, but often more in depth and interesting.
Good Villains
What's playing on the ipod: Fingers and Thumbs, Erasure
"The best villains are those that evoke pity and sometimes even genuine sympathy as well as teror." Dean Koontz
I had a breakthrough in effective villains when I started to write scenes from the POV of my antagonists. And I realized, every man is the hero of his own story. Nobody thinks of themself as the villain. Whatever his reasons, they are good ones. Even if he knows that what he's doing is wrong, he will justify it somehow or give reasons why he cannot help himself.
It might be interesting to write a villain that is only slightly less sympathetic than your protagonist. Perhaps the only difference is a ruthlessness in achieving one's objectives.
Similarly, I prefer my villains powerful and intelligent. When my protagonist makes a move, his opposite counters with equal vigor.
"The best villains are those that evoke pity and sometimes even genuine sympathy as well as teror." Dean Koontz
I had a breakthrough in effective villains when I started to write scenes from the POV of my antagonists. And I realized, every man is the hero of his own story. Nobody thinks of themself as the villain. Whatever his reasons, they are good ones. Even if he knows that what he's doing is wrong, he will justify it somehow or give reasons why he cannot help himself.
It might be interesting to write a villain that is only slightly less sympathetic than your protagonist. Perhaps the only difference is a ruthlessness in achieving one's objectives.
Similarly, I prefer my villains powerful and intelligent. When my protagonist makes a move, his opposite counters with equal vigor.
Growth of the Blog
What's playing on the ipod: Rooster, Alice in Chains
It looks like I've had some very modest growth to the blog in these first few weeks. A few comments, a few regular visitors who have tagged the blog for their readers. I hope that you are finding some useful stuff here.
However, I believe that the ultimate success of the blog will depend on the success of my writing career. If The Righteous sells and does well, people will find their way here. Even these early blog posts will eventually see hundreds, maybe thousands of readers from people reading through the archives.
It's a little bit like the fiction writing. As an aspiring novelist, you know your readers individually. You've chosen them, perhaps even cajoled them into reading your book, which may suck pretty badly. Eventually, if you improve, lots of strangers read your book, but that's not how it starts.
Because the difference is, I've had many years to figure out how to write a good novel. The book will have been written, rewritten, edited, revised, and edited some more before the public reads it. Blogging? As is obvious, I don't know what the hell I'm doing here. And my early efforts will remain for all the world to see. All those future readers (assuming they exist) are going to read through top-of-the-head drafts by an absolute newbie.
It looks like I've had some very modest growth to the blog in these first few weeks. A few comments, a few regular visitors who have tagged the blog for their readers. I hope that you are finding some useful stuff here.
However, I believe that the ultimate success of the blog will depend on the success of my writing career. If The Righteous sells and does well, people will find their way here. Even these early blog posts will eventually see hundreds, maybe thousands of readers from people reading through the archives.
It's a little bit like the fiction writing. As an aspiring novelist, you know your readers individually. You've chosen them, perhaps even cajoled them into reading your book, which may suck pretty badly. Eventually, if you improve, lots of strangers read your book, but that's not how it starts.
Because the difference is, I've had many years to figure out how to write a good novel. The book will have been written, rewritten, edited, revised, and edited some more before the public reads it. Blogging? As is obvious, I don't know what the hell I'm doing here. And my early efforts will remain for all the world to see. All those future readers (assuming they exist) are going to read through top-of-the-head drafts by an absolute newbie.
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