I've just started reading Charles Dickens' last complete novel, Our Mutual Friend. You've heard of Charles Dickens. I didn’t know when I decided to read this book that it's so long. It's really long. 800 pages (not including introduction and notes). That's longer than Moby-Dick. That's longer than The Iliad. That's longer then The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle.
I'm also reading a novella called Scales, written by Michelle Davidson-Argyle. You've heard of her. Scales is pretty short, which is a shame because so far it's perfectly lovely.
Also on my list of readings/writings to do are edits and brief(!) editorial letters to the 20 authors of the stories which will be included in our Variations on a Theme contest. I was telling Mighty Reader just last night that I'm enjoying reading through all the winning stories again; they're so very good, kids. Very good indeed. The editing bit is also fun for me; I hope it's not horrific for the authors in question. Rick Daley, I'm going easy on folks; I swear I am.
This is all work in addition to the novel of my own I'm writing. This weekend I finished Chapter 8 and I'm sitting at a little over 40,000 words. I tell myself that means I'm at about the halfway point. I tend to draft short, which means that if the rough is 80K words, the finished novel will likely be around 90K, which will make it the longest thing I've written so far. The book I have planned for after this one will be even longer, if my calculations are correct. I have a few thick, heavy books of research material I need to finish reading while I'm drafting the work-in-progress.
That's a lot of reading, I think. No wonder I'm so tired. Tell me what you're reading, and what you're writing. Also, Happy Fat Tuesday! Mighty Reader and I are giving up meat for Lent. We briefly discussed giving up alcohol; you could hear our laughter from miles away.
Showing posts with label Reading. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Reading. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
Monday, November 21, 2011
Re Re Research
My local indie bookstore just phoned me to say that a book I ordered (Dancing in the Glory of Monsters by Jason K. Stearns) is in and maybe I'd like to come pick it up today at lunch. It's a nonfiction title about the ongoing warfare in the country now known as the Democratic Republic of Congo (DR Congo for short). During my youth we called it Zaire. Before I was born it was the Belgian Congo. The ongoing war in DR Congo is said to be the deadliest conflict since World War II. [Thanks to BK Broyla for pointing out my original misstatement comparing the two wars.] It's an unbelievably horrific story that most people have never heard.
I'm reading up on this horror show because part of my work-in-progress is based in eastern DR Congo, where the fighting has been the worst and where atrocities and war crimes continue to this very day. In fact, as you read this, something unspeakable is likely happening in DR Congo. DR Congo also has the distinction of being the rape capital of the world. Isn't that nice?
This is all part of the research for my current novel. I had no idea things were so utterly hellish in DR Congo when I started writing; this is all stuff I've discovered along the way.
My WIP is set, unlike my other novels, in the present day. I did this so I wouldn't have to do a lot of research, but once I decided that my female lead was going to live for a while in a third-world country and for a variety of innocent reasons I chose DR Congo, I was back into the work of doing research. Mostly, you know, I wanted enough facts and enough of a feel for the place that I could create the appropriate verisimilitude in my reader. I did not want to become an expert in equatorial African history and politics. I just wanted to be able to believably write my setting and my supporting cast, but the situation in DR Congo is complex and so I'm doing more reading than I'd originally intended.
This always happens to me. In order to write a couple thousand words of description and setting, I end up reading a couple thousand pages of nonfiction. I have to know, apparently, a great deal more about the real historical place and time than I actually use in the novel. And, of course, I have to know more or less what's true so that I know how far I'm comfortable distorting that truth. The facts are always less important to me than the unity of my narrative. I don't write history books; I write fiction.
Still, I always wonder how much of the discovered history to include into the novels. I could have put a bunch of interesting facts about America in the Great Depression into the detective novel I just wrote. I could have worked a lot of interesting trivia into the Colonial American book I wrote last year. But most of the stuff I learned stayed out of the narratives, and likely most of the things I'll learn (or have already learned) about African small hold farms and Rwandan armies and Hutus and Tutsis and the UN relief efforts will remain outside of the book.
I'm aware that there is a genre called Historical Fiction that has its own set of tropes and expectations, but I don't really read this genre so I don't really know how my works compare to actual historical fiction. I want my readers to feel like they're wherever I'm sending them in space or time, but I don't want to teach history and I have little patience for books that attempt to recreate, brick-by-brick, a lost time or place. I want characters and humanity, darn it. Everything else is set dressing and costuming to me.
Does anyone here write historical fiction? How do you decide how much of your research to put in? What's the purpose of your research? Do you write because of the history, or is the history because of the story, if you take my meaning?
I'm reading up on this horror show because part of my work-in-progress is based in eastern DR Congo, where the fighting has been the worst and where atrocities and war crimes continue to this very day. In fact, as you read this, something unspeakable is likely happening in DR Congo. DR Congo also has the distinction of being the rape capital of the world. Isn't that nice?
This is all part of the research for my current novel. I had no idea things were so utterly hellish in DR Congo when I started writing; this is all stuff I've discovered along the way.
My WIP is set, unlike my other novels, in the present day. I did this so I wouldn't have to do a lot of research, but once I decided that my female lead was going to live for a while in a third-world country and for a variety of innocent reasons I chose DR Congo, I was back into the work of doing research. Mostly, you know, I wanted enough facts and enough of a feel for the place that I could create the appropriate verisimilitude in my reader. I did not want to become an expert in equatorial African history and politics. I just wanted to be able to believably write my setting and my supporting cast, but the situation in DR Congo is complex and so I'm doing more reading than I'd originally intended.
This always happens to me. In order to write a couple thousand words of description and setting, I end up reading a couple thousand pages of nonfiction. I have to know, apparently, a great deal more about the real historical place and time than I actually use in the novel. And, of course, I have to know more or less what's true so that I know how far I'm comfortable distorting that truth. The facts are always less important to me than the unity of my narrative. I don't write history books; I write fiction.
Still, I always wonder how much of the discovered history to include into the novels. I could have put a bunch of interesting facts about America in the Great Depression into the detective novel I just wrote. I could have worked a lot of interesting trivia into the Colonial American book I wrote last year. But most of the stuff I learned stayed out of the narratives, and likely most of the things I'll learn (or have already learned) about African small hold farms and Rwandan armies and Hutus and Tutsis and the UN relief efforts will remain outside of the book.
I'm aware that there is a genre called Historical Fiction that has its own set of tropes and expectations, but I don't really read this genre so I don't really know how my works compare to actual historical fiction. I want my readers to feel like they're wherever I'm sending them in space or time, but I don't want to teach history and I have little patience for books that attempt to recreate, brick-by-brick, a lost time or place. I want characters and humanity, darn it. Everything else is set dressing and costuming to me.
Does anyone here write historical fiction? How do you decide how much of your research to put in? What's the purpose of your research? Do you write because of the history, or is the history because of the story, if you take my meaning?
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Chekhov and Engines of Imbalance
Here is an excerpt from Chekhov's story "The Party." (Translated by Constance Garnett and edited down by me.)
Olga made up her mind to find her husband at once and tell him all about it: it was disgusting, absolutely disgusting, that he was attractive to other women and sought their admiration as though it were some heavenly manna; it was unjust and dishonourable that he should give to others what belonged by right to his wife, that he should hide his soul and his conscience from his wife to reveal them to the first pretty face he came across. What harm had his wife done him? How was she to blame? Long ago she had been sickened by his lying: he was for ever posing, flirting, saying what he did not think, and trying to seem different from what he was and what he ought to be. Why this falsity? Was it seemly in a decent man? If he lied he was demeaning himself and those to whom he lied, and slighting what he lied about. Could he not understand that if he swaggered and posed at the judicial table, or held forth at dinner on the prerogatives of Government, that he, simply to provoke her uncle, was showing thereby that he had not a ha'p'orth of respect for the Court, or himself, or any of the people who were listening and looking at him?
She found her husband in his study. He was sitting at the table, thinking of something. His face looked stern, thoughtful, and guilty. This was not the same Pyotr Dmitritch who had been arguing at dinner and whom his guests knew, but a different man -- wearied, feeling guilty and dissatisfied with himself, whom nobody knew but his wife. He must have come to the study to get cigarettes. Before him lay an open cigarette-case full of cigarettes, and one of his hands was in the table drawer; he had paused and sunk into thought as he was taking the cigarettes.
Olga Mihalovna felt sorry for him. It was as clear as day that this man was harassed, could find no rest, and was perhaps struggling with himself. Olga Mihalovna went up to the table in silence: wanting to show that she had forgotten the argument at dinner and was not cross, she shut the cigarette-case and put it in her husband's coat pocket.
"What should I say to him;" she wondered; "I shall say that lying is like a forest -- the further one goes into it the more difficult it is to get out of it. I will say to him, 'You have been carried away by the false part you are playing; you have insulted people who were attached to you and have done you no harm. Go and apologize to them, laugh at yourself, and you will feel better. And if you want peace and solitude, let us go away together."'
Meeting his wife's gaze, Pyotr Dmitritch's face immediately assumed the expression it had worn at dinner and in the garden -- indifferent and slightly ironical. He yawned and got up.
"It's past five," he said, looking at his watch. "If our visitors are merciful and leave us at eleven, even then we have another six hours of it. It's a cheerful prospect, there's no denying!"
And whistling something, he walked slowly out of the study with his usual dignified gait.
What happens here? Olga and Pyotr are giving a party, their house is full of guests. Pyotr is worried about an upcoming civil trial where he's the defendant. This trial might have terrible consequences for his career as a magistrate. Pyotr has a public persona he uses that is pompous, loud and totally unlike the person he is with his wife in private. His behavior at the party has been obnoxious and Olga is angry with him. Olga has just watched Pyotr flirt with a pretty seventeen year-old girl. In the excerpt above, Olga follows Pyotr to his study, where she finds him alone and troubled. She stops being angry and moves to reconcile with him. Pyotr, however, is not going to admit that he is in any way troubled, because then he'd have to talk about the upcoming trial and he can't quite face that so he puts on his public persona again and walks out of his study.
The whole story works this way, with unspoken emotion driving people at each other in frustration and away from each other in shame. Neither Pyotr nor Olga ever speak openly about the main crises in their lives (his upcoming trial and his unsure place in the government, her difficult first pregnancy) and they treat each other poorly despite deeply loving each other. The excerpt above briefly displays the way Chekhov accomplishes this, and how he sets up a rhythm of the characters moving towards each other and then pushing away, a rhythm he continues for the entire story. As the tension mounts the movements become more extreme and violent until both Olga and Pyotr lose complete control of their emotions. Because Chekhov understands the power of contrast, this emotional loss of control affects Olga differently than it affects Pyotr. She becomes verbally abusive and he is now the one attempting to reconcile.
So Chekhov, in this story, has created a sort of engine which runs on imbalance, where one character is angry at the other's behavior but who that is keeps changing, and characters revolve from their public to their private faces and not a lot happens in terms of physical action but the emotions are always moving, in larger and larger swings of the pendulum. "The Party" is a very active story in terms of character, and you don't notice that there isn't a great deal of action in the way of plot.
Read the whole thing here if you want.
Olga made up her mind to find her husband at once and tell him all about it: it was disgusting, absolutely disgusting, that he was attractive to other women and sought their admiration as though it were some heavenly manna; it was unjust and dishonourable that he should give to others what belonged by right to his wife, that he should hide his soul and his conscience from his wife to reveal them to the first pretty face he came across. What harm had his wife done him? How was she to blame? Long ago she had been sickened by his lying: he was for ever posing, flirting, saying what he did not think, and trying to seem different from what he was and what he ought to be. Why this falsity? Was it seemly in a decent man? If he lied he was demeaning himself and those to whom he lied, and slighting what he lied about. Could he not understand that if he swaggered and posed at the judicial table, or held forth at dinner on the prerogatives of Government, that he, simply to provoke her uncle, was showing thereby that he had not a ha'p'orth of respect for the Court, or himself, or any of the people who were listening and looking at him?
She found her husband in his study. He was sitting at the table, thinking of something. His face looked stern, thoughtful, and guilty. This was not the same Pyotr Dmitritch who had been arguing at dinner and whom his guests knew, but a different man -- wearied, feeling guilty and dissatisfied with himself, whom nobody knew but his wife. He must have come to the study to get cigarettes. Before him lay an open cigarette-case full of cigarettes, and one of his hands was in the table drawer; he had paused and sunk into thought as he was taking the cigarettes.
Olga Mihalovna felt sorry for him. It was as clear as day that this man was harassed, could find no rest, and was perhaps struggling with himself. Olga Mihalovna went up to the table in silence: wanting to show that she had forgotten the argument at dinner and was not cross, she shut the cigarette-case and put it in her husband's coat pocket.
"What should I say to him;" she wondered; "I shall say that lying is like a forest -- the further one goes into it the more difficult it is to get out of it. I will say to him, 'You have been carried away by the false part you are playing; you have insulted people who were attached to you and have done you no harm. Go and apologize to them, laugh at yourself, and you will feel better. And if you want peace and solitude, let us go away together."'
Meeting his wife's gaze, Pyotr Dmitritch's face immediately assumed the expression it had worn at dinner and in the garden -- indifferent and slightly ironical. He yawned and got up.
"It's past five," he said, looking at his watch. "If our visitors are merciful and leave us at eleven, even then we have another six hours of it. It's a cheerful prospect, there's no denying!"
And whistling something, he walked slowly out of the study with his usual dignified gait.
What happens here? Olga and Pyotr are giving a party, their house is full of guests. Pyotr is worried about an upcoming civil trial where he's the defendant. This trial might have terrible consequences for his career as a magistrate. Pyotr has a public persona he uses that is pompous, loud and totally unlike the person he is with his wife in private. His behavior at the party has been obnoxious and Olga is angry with him. Olga has just watched Pyotr flirt with a pretty seventeen year-old girl. In the excerpt above, Olga follows Pyotr to his study, where she finds him alone and troubled. She stops being angry and moves to reconcile with him. Pyotr, however, is not going to admit that he is in any way troubled, because then he'd have to talk about the upcoming trial and he can't quite face that so he puts on his public persona again and walks out of his study.
The whole story works this way, with unspoken emotion driving people at each other in frustration and away from each other in shame. Neither Pyotr nor Olga ever speak openly about the main crises in their lives (his upcoming trial and his unsure place in the government, her difficult first pregnancy) and they treat each other poorly despite deeply loving each other. The excerpt above briefly displays the way Chekhov accomplishes this, and how he sets up a rhythm of the characters moving towards each other and then pushing away, a rhythm he continues for the entire story. As the tension mounts the movements become more extreme and violent until both Olga and Pyotr lose complete control of their emotions. Because Chekhov understands the power of contrast, this emotional loss of control affects Olga differently than it affects Pyotr. She becomes verbally abusive and he is now the one attempting to reconcile.
So Chekhov, in this story, has created a sort of engine which runs on imbalance, where one character is angry at the other's behavior but who that is keeps changing, and characters revolve from their public to their private faces and not a lot happens in terms of physical action but the emotions are always moving, in larger and larger swings of the pendulum. "The Party" is a very active story in terms of character, and you don't notice that there isn't a great deal of action in the way of plot.
Read the whole thing here if you want.
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Reading and Writing With Neil Gaiman
On Sunday night Mighty Reader and I (along with 800 or so other Seattle folks) went to Town Hall where Neil Gaiman read from and was interviewed about his latest release, the 10th Anniversary edition of American Gods. It's the "author's preferred text," which means that Mr Gaiman's publisher gave him the opportunity to add in all the stuff his original editor made him cut a decade ago, plus make whatever other changes he wanted to. The current edition, if I understand Mr Gaiman correctly, now clocks in at better than 200,000 words.
I'll come clean right up front and say that I am not a huge fan of Mr Gaiman's writing, though I enjoyed Neverwhere and I've read all the Sandman comics and I follow Mr Gaiman's blog. He's very charming and funny and he seems like a Really Nice Guy and I wanted to go last night because a) Mighty Reader is a NG fan and she bought the tickets, and b) Mr Gaiman has attained nearly legendary status as a fabulous reader and I wanted to see what that was all about. Plus, you know, he's funny.
It was well worth attending, and my advice to you is that if you ever get the chance to see Mr Gaiman in person, go see him. He reads aloud, frankly, beautifully. The biggest lesson to learn from Mr Gaiman's reading? Read Slowly And Distinctly. When he began I thought, "Gosh, he's moving at a snail's pace" but after a minute you fall into his rhythm and maybe it's his dreamy English accent or the dreamlike mood of the piece he read, but time really did stand still. The second bit he read was more dialogue-heavy and he did American accents for the characters and he also read slowly to great effect. I should note that these were pretty long excerpts he read, too. He could have skipped the interview and the questions from the audience and just read all night and that would've been fine with Mighty Reader and me.
Except, of course, Mr Gaiman's reading all night would've deprived us of his "advice to a novice fantasy writer." That was good stuff, and I'll paraphrase for you. First, his general advice to writers: "Write. Finish what you write." More specifically, his advice to genre writers: "Write. Stop reading your genre; read everything else and become influenced by the whole world of fiction. If you are interested in a specific mythology/religion/time period/alternate reality, then read primary sources, not other genre fiction about it. Read the Book of Kells or the Vedas or Homer or Dante or the stuff that Bram Stoker read when he was researching Dracula. Don't be one of those people who fall in love with Lord of the Rings and then decide to write Lord of the Rings, because Lord of the Rings has already been written, a lot better than you could ever write it. Tell the stories only you can tell." There was more, and it was all funnier than I relate it, but in sum Mr Gaiman gives good advice. Write a lot. Finish what you write. Read widely. Rinse and repeat.
Mr Gaiman, Amanda Palmer and singer/accordionist/pudding fan Jason Webley are apparently going to be together in Seattle, back at Town Hall, on 11/11/11 for a Big Event of some kind. Mr Gaiman and his wife, pop chanteuse Amanda Palmer (of the Dresden Dolls) are maybe going to do some kind of tag-team tour up the west coast between Halloween and November 11th, so for those of you who live along the Pacific Ocean, there'll likely be another chance to hear Neil Gaiman read aloud. You should go.
I'll come clean right up front and say that I am not a huge fan of Mr Gaiman's writing, though I enjoyed Neverwhere and I've read all the Sandman comics and I follow Mr Gaiman's blog. He's very charming and funny and he seems like a Really Nice Guy and I wanted to go last night because a) Mighty Reader is a NG fan and she bought the tickets, and b) Mr Gaiman has attained nearly legendary status as a fabulous reader and I wanted to see what that was all about. Plus, you know, he's funny.
It was well worth attending, and my advice to you is that if you ever get the chance to see Mr Gaiman in person, go see him. He reads aloud, frankly, beautifully. The biggest lesson to learn from Mr Gaiman's reading? Read Slowly And Distinctly. When he began I thought, "Gosh, he's moving at a snail's pace" but after a minute you fall into his rhythm and maybe it's his dreamy English accent or the dreamlike mood of the piece he read, but time really did stand still. The second bit he read was more dialogue-heavy and he did American accents for the characters and he also read slowly to great effect. I should note that these were pretty long excerpts he read, too. He could have skipped the interview and the questions from the audience and just read all night and that would've been fine with Mighty Reader and me.
Except, of course, Mr Gaiman's reading all night would've deprived us of his "advice to a novice fantasy writer." That was good stuff, and I'll paraphrase for you. First, his general advice to writers: "Write. Finish what you write." More specifically, his advice to genre writers: "Write. Stop reading your genre; read everything else and become influenced by the whole world of fiction. If you are interested in a specific mythology/religion/time period/alternate reality, then read primary sources, not other genre fiction about it. Read the Book of Kells or the Vedas or Homer or Dante or the stuff that Bram Stoker read when he was researching Dracula. Don't be one of those people who fall in love with Lord of the Rings and then decide to write Lord of the Rings, because Lord of the Rings has already been written, a lot better than you could ever write it. Tell the stories only you can tell." There was more, and it was all funnier than I relate it, but in sum Mr Gaiman gives good advice. Write a lot. Finish what you write. Read widely. Rinse and repeat.
Mr Gaiman, Amanda Palmer and singer/accordionist/pudding fan Jason Webley are apparently going to be together in Seattle, back at Town Hall, on 11/11/11 for a Big Event of some kind. Mr Gaiman and his wife, pop chanteuse Amanda Palmer (of the Dresden Dolls) are maybe going to do some kind of tag-team tour up the west coast between Halloween and November 11th, so for those of you who live along the Pacific Ocean, there'll likely be another chance to hear Neil Gaiman read aloud. You should go.
Friday, May 27, 2011
Friday Filler: Pointless Rambling!
I've been reading some new novels and some old novels the last couple of years, and I think I've noticed something worth mentioning. Yes, whenever I notice anything I think it's worth mentioning because of my tremendous ego, but this might actually be important. Anyway, if you compare the books of D.H. Lawrence and Samuel Beckett and Virginia Woolf with the books of Salman Rushdie and Philip Roth and Jhumpa Lahiri and Iain McEwen, for example, you might think that the older books (hell, Lawrence and Woolf did some of their most famous writing ninety years ago) are, well, old-fashioned and that the more recent books have their finger on the pulse of modern life. You might think that because modern writers are more casual in the way they write about sex, and appear to have less respect for the form of the novel, and are awash in a sea of metafictional irony, that they are more sophisticated than their forebears. And you know what? You'd be wrong.
For some time now, bouncing as I do from reading the most recent literary fiction to the classic works of the Western Canon, I have been feeling that something in today's novels is lacking. And what that is, I have come to see, is emotional depth and honesty. Yes, you have protagonists in Roth who are not charming and have selfish motivations and you've got people fucking around behind their significant others' backs in every other novel these days and you've got antiheroes and you've got explorations of madness and you've got people who are conflicted and hide their true feelings and you've got the constant irony of people not really knowing anything about those closest to them and being surprised when their One True Love is leaving them. But that's all very old stuff, and books that were written ninety years ago explored all of this already, and did a Much Better Job Of It and got A Lot Closer To The Emotions of the Characters.
Nowadays everybody who's writing literature is giving knowing looks and winks and there is a lot of insincerity and holding-at-arm's-length of characters and their emotions, and I think more of it's being presented as a sort of prettily written but clichéd entertainment (or--worse yet--social statement) than a real exploration of life. Freedom bothered me a lot because all of the action seemed to take place behind a wall of glass, as if Franzen was putting on a puppet show but didn't actually care a whit about his characters and really didn't want to get too close to them. They'll admit that they sometimes despise themselves and each other and that they're really all very selfish people, but that's as deep as the analysis goes. And I see that over and over in book after book. Modern writers, I have decided, are writing in too shallow a manner, too cowardly.
This is all a bit rough and not well thought out, I know. It's something I'm working on. But it does seem significant that Virgina Woolf and David Lawrence, writing ninety years ago, were able to expose more truths about the human heart than anyone writing today seems to be able to do. Literary writers of today: we aren't trying hard enough.
For some time now, bouncing as I do from reading the most recent literary fiction to the classic works of the Western Canon, I have been feeling that something in today's novels is lacking. And what that is, I have come to see, is emotional depth and honesty. Yes, you have protagonists in Roth who are not charming and have selfish motivations and you've got people fucking around behind their significant others' backs in every other novel these days and you've got antiheroes and you've got explorations of madness and you've got people who are conflicted and hide their true feelings and you've got the constant irony of people not really knowing anything about those closest to them and being surprised when their One True Love is leaving them. But that's all very old stuff, and books that were written ninety years ago explored all of this already, and did a Much Better Job Of It and got A Lot Closer To The Emotions of the Characters.
Nowadays everybody who's writing literature is giving knowing looks and winks and there is a lot of insincerity and holding-at-arm's-length of characters and their emotions, and I think more of it's being presented as a sort of prettily written but clichéd entertainment (or--worse yet--social statement) than a real exploration of life. Freedom bothered me a lot because all of the action seemed to take place behind a wall of glass, as if Franzen was putting on a puppet show but didn't actually care a whit about his characters and really didn't want to get too close to them. They'll admit that they sometimes despise themselves and each other and that they're really all very selfish people, but that's as deep as the analysis goes. And I see that over and over in book after book. Modern writers, I have decided, are writing in too shallow a manner, too cowardly.
This is all a bit rough and not well thought out, I know. It's something I'm working on. But it does seem significant that Virgina Woolf and David Lawrence, writing ninety years ago, were able to expose more truths about the human heart than anyone writing today seems to be able to do. Literary writers of today: we aren't trying hard enough.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Save Bookstores Day
My agent, Weronika Janczuk, forwarded this email to me a week or so ago and I forgot to post about it here:
Hi everyone,
I’ve gotten sick of reading the bookstore obituaries in the publishing news, so I’m starting a viral campaign to get people, on one day, to go buy books from their local bookstore. Might not end up changing the tides, but it’s something small I can do and I’m getting a good response so far. Here are the details for you to pass on to your friends/family/fellow booklovers:
Who: You and all the book-lovers in your life
When: June 25th, the first Saturday of Summer!
Where: Your local bookstore (and if you don’t have one near you, Powell’s ships)
Why: Because bookstores are dropping like flies and we want them to stay alive
Thanks for passing this along to whomever you think would want to get on board.
Warmest,
Kelly
Kelly Sonnack
Andrea Brown Literary Agency
Prefer to read on your god-damned Walmazart Kindle? Then buy a book for a book-lover you know!
Mark your calendars! DO IT!
Hi everyone,
I’ve gotten sick of reading the bookstore obituaries in the publishing news, so I’m starting a viral campaign to get people, on one day, to go buy books from their local bookstore. Might not end up changing the tides, but it’s something small I can do and I’m getting a good response so far. Here are the details for you to pass on to your friends/family/fellow booklovers:
Who: You and all the book-lovers in your life
When: June 25th, the first Saturday of Summer!
Where: Your local bookstore (and if you don’t have one near you, Powell’s ships)
Why: Because bookstores are dropping like flies and we want them to stay alive
Thanks for passing this along to whomever you think would want to get on board.
Warmest,
Kelly
Kelly Sonnack
Andrea Brown Literary Agency
Prefer to read on your god-damned Walmazart Kindle? Then buy a book for a book-lover you know!
Mark your calendars! DO IT!
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Getting myself to read more
I have a new strategy to get myself to read more. I've fallen into the bad habit of only reading books partway through--usually until I get bored--and then giving up on them and moving on to something else. So, now I'm going to leave a glass of water on my nightstand. I'm not allowed to replace that water until I am done reading a book. No matter how dusty and gross it gets, I must drink one gulp every night until I finish. Sounds good, doesn't it?
If this doesn't work, then I'll replace it with milk.
Seriously, though, I've been doing pretty good this year by my own standards. In the last couple of months, I've read The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle, The Breakaway, The Book Thief, a novella by Nina Barberova, and I'm partway through Cocke & Bull and Falconer.
I'm trying to figure out how to review these books in a way that writer's might appreciate. Maybe I'll do an analysis of the writing techniques or something.
Does anyone have any ideas?
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Trying Too Hard or Not Trying Hard Enough
In a comment to Domey's post yesterday, McKenzie McCann talked about how much she dislikes it when seemingly every story element is symbolic. A coffee pot, as McKenzie said, is never just a coffee pot. I answered something like, "I'd rather an author tried too hard than didn't try hard enough." That was yesterday.
Today I am not so sure. Since writing my reply to McKenzie, I have read the first chapter of Paula McLain's The Paris Wife and the first couple of chapters of Louis de Bernieres' Birds Without Wings. I'm going to read the Bernieres book and I might read the McLain book, but both of these novels begin with a lot lot lot of the author displaying their research. The Paris Wife is a fictional first-person account of Ernest Hemingway's first marriage as told by the wife, Hadley Richardson. The first chapter is essentially an essay about Hemingway. His eyes, his hair, his dancing, his every nickname, etc etc etc and I just wanted to shake Ms McLain by the collar and tell her "I get it; this is about Ernest Hemingway." The trouble is, the scene was allegedly about Hadley Richardson dancing for the first time with Hemingway at a party, and there was almost no Hadley Richardson in there. It was all McLain's researched details about Hemingway. Ms McLain is trying too hard.
Birds Without Wings is a tragic love story set in the last days of the Ottoman Empire, as it is becoming Turkey. Nationalism, racism, the Gallipoli campaign during WW I and love all intertwine in the novel, all with tragic consequences. Sounds nifty. Except, the first few thousand words are all set dressing. It's nice to know that an imam is one who leads prayers and that a hodji is someone who's been on the haj and that people in Turkey spoke Turkish but wrote using Greek script and that Christian and Muslim traditions were mashed up in rural areas, but after a while I just wanted to meet some characters and see some action. I'm in a history lesson right now. Mr de Bernieres is trying too hard.
This reminds me of when Mighty Reader read Tolstoy's Anna Karenina. Every time Princess Ekaterina Alexandrovna Shcherbatskaya ("Kitty") comes into the story, Tolstoy must describe the beauty of Kitty's clothing and person. Mighty Reader was more than once heard to exclaim, "Okay, Leo, we get it. Kitty's pretty and dresses well. Is that all you've got to say about her?" I said to Mighty Reader, "Well, the book is like 6,000 pages long. Don't you need to be reminded about the characters?" Mighty Reader looked at me like I'd grown soft in the head.
This is something I wonder about in my own books, which so far have tended to be set in the historical past. How much do I tell my reader about the setting? Where do you draw the line between giving enough explanation so that the story makes sense and the story just being a textbook? I'm not one of those people who read historical fiction in order to learn about the past. I just like a good story told well. I also don't think that writers owe any fidelity to the past and I've read enough interviews with writers of historical fiction to be aware that they'll serve the story at the expense of the facts and I'm fine with that. So I don't need to hear how the horsemen of Mongolia were more fierce than were the horsemen of Kurdistan or whatever, especially when that's just filler in the middle of a paragraph. At some point, the story gets lost for me and I'm just wading through the writer's notes.
This is not an argument against detail, though. Proust goes into minutia for half a million words but that's just the way his mind works in the pursuit of his themes. He's not trying to show you how well he's observed his hotel suite or the shoes worn at the artistocratic parties he attends. His work is about the details and it's pretty fine stuff.
Anyway, I realize that this is all very much down to personal taste and individual reading history, but I don't think that's any reason not to discuss it. How much do you want/need to be told about setting/history (real or made up by the author) before you're willing to lose yourself in a story? What are your minimum requirements? How close to the beginning of the story do you want this stuff to appear? (Last night I was talking about backstory with Mighty Reader, re my current novel. She asked if I was going to give my MC's Big Personal Question in the first chapter or so. "What?" I said. "And leave nothing for Act Two?")
Today I am not so sure. Since writing my reply to McKenzie, I have read the first chapter of Paula McLain's The Paris Wife and the first couple of chapters of Louis de Bernieres' Birds Without Wings. I'm going to read the Bernieres book and I might read the McLain book, but both of these novels begin with a lot lot lot of the author displaying their research. The Paris Wife is a fictional first-person account of Ernest Hemingway's first marriage as told by the wife, Hadley Richardson. The first chapter is essentially an essay about Hemingway. His eyes, his hair, his dancing, his every nickname, etc etc etc and I just wanted to shake Ms McLain by the collar and tell her "I get it; this is about Ernest Hemingway." The trouble is, the scene was allegedly about Hadley Richardson dancing for the first time with Hemingway at a party, and there was almost no Hadley Richardson in there. It was all McLain's researched details about Hemingway. Ms McLain is trying too hard.
Birds Without Wings is a tragic love story set in the last days of the Ottoman Empire, as it is becoming Turkey. Nationalism, racism, the Gallipoli campaign during WW I and love all intertwine in the novel, all with tragic consequences. Sounds nifty. Except, the first few thousand words are all set dressing. It's nice to know that an imam is one who leads prayers and that a hodji is someone who's been on the haj and that people in Turkey spoke Turkish but wrote using Greek script and that Christian and Muslim traditions were mashed up in rural areas, but after a while I just wanted to meet some characters and see some action. I'm in a history lesson right now. Mr de Bernieres is trying too hard.
This reminds me of when Mighty Reader read Tolstoy's Anna Karenina. Every time Princess Ekaterina Alexandrovna Shcherbatskaya ("Kitty") comes into the story, Tolstoy must describe the beauty of Kitty's clothing and person. Mighty Reader was more than once heard to exclaim, "Okay, Leo, we get it. Kitty's pretty and dresses well. Is that all you've got to say about her?" I said to Mighty Reader, "Well, the book is like 6,000 pages long. Don't you need to be reminded about the characters?" Mighty Reader looked at me like I'd grown soft in the head.
This is something I wonder about in my own books, which so far have tended to be set in the historical past. How much do I tell my reader about the setting? Where do you draw the line between giving enough explanation so that the story makes sense and the story just being a textbook? I'm not one of those people who read historical fiction in order to learn about the past. I just like a good story told well. I also don't think that writers owe any fidelity to the past and I've read enough interviews with writers of historical fiction to be aware that they'll serve the story at the expense of the facts and I'm fine with that. So I don't need to hear how the horsemen of Mongolia were more fierce than were the horsemen of Kurdistan or whatever, especially when that's just filler in the middle of a paragraph. At some point, the story gets lost for me and I'm just wading through the writer's notes.
This is not an argument against detail, though. Proust goes into minutia for half a million words but that's just the way his mind works in the pursuit of his themes. He's not trying to show you how well he's observed his hotel suite or the shoes worn at the artistocratic parties he attends. His work is about the details and it's pretty fine stuff.
Anyway, I realize that this is all very much down to personal taste and individual reading history, but I don't think that's any reason not to discuss it. How much do you want/need to be told about setting/history (real or made up by the author) before you're willing to lose yourself in a story? What are your minimum requirements? How close to the beginning of the story do you want this stuff to appear? (Last night I was talking about backstory with Mighty Reader, re my current novel. She asked if I was going to give my MC's Big Personal Question in the first chapter or so. "What?" I said. "And leave nothing for Act Two?")
Friday, April 8, 2011
Friday Filler! Archaeology on the Bookshelf
On this day in 1828 on the island of Melos in the Mediterranean Sea, the sculpture we know as the Venus de Milo was unearthed. There's an 'armless joke in there somewhere, but I just can't find it.
Also:
Last night I was in the living room, crouched on the rug and petting the cat, Madame Gradka. From this low vantage point I had a rare view of the bottom shelf of one of our many bookshelves, so I was able to see books usually hidden behind an old maple piano bench we use to prop up a television set. A particularly fine book cover--or the spine of one, that is--caught my eye. It was the 50th anniversary edition of To Kill a Mockingbird that Mighty Reader got me for Christmas in 2009. I'd forgotten all about that book. It's a classic and I am now reminded that I want to read it again soon.
I'm always stumbling across books I'd quite forgotten about that are sitting in plain sight on our bookshelves (like Poe's purloined letter). We have a copy of Tom Jones I want to get to as well as all that Stendhal.
When's the last time you discovered a book you already own that you'd forgotten about and now you absolutely must read it (or read it again)? What's the book? Don't be shy: a few months ago I stumbled across 84 Charing Cross Road and Smith of Wooten Major and stopped whatever I was doing to read them. It's not like I quit my job to read Proust or anything.
Also:
Last night I was in the living room, crouched on the rug and petting the cat, Madame Gradka. From this low vantage point I had a rare view of the bottom shelf of one of our many bookshelves, so I was able to see books usually hidden behind an old maple piano bench we use to prop up a television set. A particularly fine book cover--or the spine of one, that is--caught my eye. It was the 50th anniversary edition of To Kill a Mockingbird that Mighty Reader got me for Christmas in 2009. I'd forgotten all about that book. It's a classic and I am now reminded that I want to read it again soon.
I'm always stumbling across books I'd quite forgotten about that are sitting in plain sight on our bookshelves (like Poe's purloined letter). We have a copy of Tom Jones I want to get to as well as all that Stendhal.
When's the last time you discovered a book you already own that you'd forgotten about and now you absolutely must read it (or read it again)? What's the book? Don't be shy: a few months ago I stumbled across 84 Charing Cross Road and Smith of Wooten Major and stopped whatever I was doing to read them. It's not like I quit my job to read Proust or anything.
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Read Like You Mean It
Read like you mean it. You may be saying, "What does that even mean and who are YOU to tell me I don't read correctly?" and this is where I ask, "well do you?"
Read like you mean it. I am a college student and all I ever hear about is close reading. Reading so that you understand the "text" as they say. Reading and marking things up; more than underlining and highlighting, I'm talking annotations, acronyms and yes, underlining and highlighting. They call this "marginalia" and as I stated, close reading. I call it reading like a writer. Let me explain.
It is all well and good to read for inspiration but did you ever question how or why someone has written that beautiful sentence or constructed a paragraph the way they have? How all those elements, the sentence, paragraph, rhythm of the prose relates to the theme of the novel? If you have, you are reading like a writer.
But I think it is important also to use the margins and no it is not because I'm Ms. Jo College. I can't tell you how many times I've read something, mentally noted that this sentence is constructed with the most fluid language I've ever seen, went to sleep and have totally forgotten not only where the sentence was located, but about the entire sentence. That kind of error impedes my growth as a writer. Why? Because I am not actively looking for ways to practice different styles, forms, ways of communicating that may benefit my work in some way, whether or not I use the same structured sentence as Amy Hempel or not it still helps. It is important to annotate and put into practice what you've annotated.
Another way of looking at another writer's work is rewriting it after you've read and annotated the novel. For instance, I've rewritten one of my favorite short stories, "In the Cemetary Where Al Jolson is Buried" by Amy Hempel. This is similar to annotating in that you get the feel of the direction the writer wanted to go, how he/she uses language and it becomes a part of your own writing, but in your own style.
A suggestion for those of you who feel like it is a lot of work when you just want to enjoy a book, read the book first without annotating or underlining. Soak it in. Enjoy it. Then scrutinize the hell out of it later.
Reading like you mean it is essential to writing like you own the language. Now, feel free to chastise and debate me, if you wish. ;-)
___________________________
Tiffany White is a regular reader of The Literary Lab. She writes literary fiction which is also a testament to her insanity, her thirst for realism at the expense of a successful career. She bites kittens and puppies and wears her socks on the outside of her pants regularly. You can find Tiffany on her blog, The Inkwell.
I am very happy to have Tiffany as a guest blogger today. As an English BA major, I agree with her that reading as a writer can be a really important step in a writer's growth. I never read anything in college without putting in "marginalia." I was always taking notes, writing in my books, discussing the work with fellow students and my professors. Let me tell you, I learned so much about writing by involving myself like that. These days, I've found some of the books I remember the most are the manuscripts I review for other writers. Why? Because I'm taking notes and writing out my comments. I'm thinking critically about the work.
Thank you, Tiffany, for a great post today! I'm interested to see our readers' thoughts on this subject.
Read like you mean it. I am a college student and all I ever hear about is close reading. Reading so that you understand the "text" as they say. Reading and marking things up; more than underlining and highlighting, I'm talking annotations, acronyms and yes, underlining and highlighting. They call this "marginalia" and as I stated, close reading. I call it reading like a writer. Let me explain.
It is all well and good to read for inspiration but did you ever question how or why someone has written that beautiful sentence or constructed a paragraph the way they have? How all those elements, the sentence, paragraph, rhythm of the prose relates to the theme of the novel? If you have, you are reading like a writer.
But I think it is important also to use the margins and no it is not because I'm Ms. Jo College. I can't tell you how many times I've read something, mentally noted that this sentence is constructed with the most fluid language I've ever seen, went to sleep and have totally forgotten not only where the sentence was located, but about the entire sentence. That kind of error impedes my growth as a writer. Why? Because I am not actively looking for ways to practice different styles, forms, ways of communicating that may benefit my work in some way, whether or not I use the same structured sentence as Amy Hempel or not it still helps. It is important to annotate and put into practice what you've annotated.
Another way of looking at another writer's work is rewriting it after you've read and annotated the novel. For instance, I've rewritten one of my favorite short stories, "In the Cemetary Where Al Jolson is Buried" by Amy Hempel. This is similar to annotating in that you get the feel of the direction the writer wanted to go, how he/she uses language and it becomes a part of your own writing, but in your own style.
A suggestion for those of you who feel like it is a lot of work when you just want to enjoy a book, read the book first without annotating or underlining. Soak it in. Enjoy it. Then scrutinize the hell out of it later.
Reading like you mean it is essential to writing like you own the language. Now, feel free to chastise and debate me, if you wish. ;-)
___________________________
Tiffany White is a regular reader of The Literary Lab. She writes literary fiction which is also a testament to her insanity, her thirst for realism at the expense of a successful career. She bites kittens and puppies and wears her socks on the outside of her pants regularly. You can find Tiffany on her blog, The Inkwell.
I am very happy to have Tiffany as a guest blogger today. As an English BA major, I agree with her that reading as a writer can be a really important step in a writer's growth. I never read anything in college without putting in "marginalia." I was always taking notes, writing in my books, discussing the work with fellow students and my professors. Let me tell you, I learned so much about writing by involving myself like that. These days, I've found some of the books I remember the most are the manuscripts I review for other writers. Why? Because I'm taking notes and writing out my comments. I'm thinking critically about the work.
Thank you, Tiffany, for a great post today! I'm interested to see our readers' thoughts on this subject.
Monday, March 7, 2011
The Speed Of Your Read
Are you a fast or a slow reader?
I've always been slow, and I often wonder if those speed readers around me are having the same reading experience that I am. I know, for example, that not everyone "hears" a voice reading along with them the way I do. Some people read with their eyes and only have to "see" the word. (I've done this on occasion, but it's difficult. I tend not to trust what I've read until I internalize it.) I've also heard that some people can read multiple areas of a page at once.
Ignoring accuracy (because that's a whole other topic), do you think the different ways people read result in dramatic differences in their reading experience?
If you're a writer, do you think what you write is more successful for one type of reader versus another?
Don't forget our Notes From Underground Anthology is available. Check it out! You can read it as fast or as slow as you like.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Images or Words?
I find it interesting how slow I read. Then again, compared to some others, I read fast. Sometimes I wonder if this whole "reading speed" thing is based on how we internalize words. I don't know how anybody else's brain works, but when I read it goes something like this.
I read the line
"It had a perfectly round door like a porthole, painted green, with a shiny yellow brass knob in the exact middle. The door opened on to a tube-shaped hall like a tunnel: a very comfortable tunnel without smoke, with panelled walls, and floors tiled and carpeted, provided with polished chairs, and lots and lots of pegs for hats and coats - the hobbit was fond of visitors."
I like the colon placement.
The structure in this sentence works well, etc., etc....
then my brain switches to this
Or something like it.
See, I think in words first. Since I'm a writer, I usually analyze word use and structure before I let an image crowd my brain. This all happens boom, boom, boom, really fast. The point is that I first internalize and analyze the words - probably more than I should if I'm trying to casually read. Do all readers do this? Only writers? I'm trying to get past this and just read the dang story, but I'm finding it difficult. I've always read this way, even during my 5-year hiatus from writing.
I know a reader must first read the words, of course, and their brain must translate them into meaning and images, but how many of you analyze the words before finally settling on the image and moving onto the next sentence or paragraph?
I read the line
"It had a perfectly round door like a porthole, painted green, with a shiny yellow brass knob in the exact middle. The door opened on to a tube-shaped hall like a tunnel: a very comfortable tunnel without smoke, with panelled walls, and floors tiled and carpeted, provided with polished chairs, and lots and lots of pegs for hats and coats - the hobbit was fond of visitors."
my brain thinks
Oh, great description. I like the use of "shiny yellow brass" against the word "green."I like the colon placement.
The structure in this sentence works well, etc., etc....
then my brain switches to this
Or something like it.
See, I think in words first. Since I'm a writer, I usually analyze word use and structure before I let an image crowd my brain. This all happens boom, boom, boom, really fast. The point is that I first internalize and analyze the words - probably more than I should if I'm trying to casually read. Do all readers do this? Only writers? I'm trying to get past this and just read the dang story, but I'm finding it difficult. I've always read this way, even during my 5-year hiatus from writing.
I know a reader must first read the words, of course, and their brain must translate them into meaning and images, but how many of you analyze the words before finally settling on the image and moving onto the next sentence or paragraph?
Monday, January 3, 2011
Have you ever...
...liked a book with a bad plot?
...liked a book with boring characters?
...liked a book with mediocre prose?
My answer is yes to all three questions. Kazuo Ishiguro's book Never Let Me Go, although it had a great premise, didn't have an interesting plot to me. One of my favorite writers, Jhumpa Lahiri, hardly ever has a character that interests me. And, I enjoyed Water for Elephants by Sara Gruen, although I didn't much care for the prose.
For me, this is a reminder that my job as a writer isn't necessarily to get everything right. Rather, my job is to create a work that has something that excites readers and engages them.
We all have our strengths, and so often I am reminded that writing something successful means showcasing those strengths rather than working to improve our weaknesses.
As we ring in the new year, what are your strengths as a writer?
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Best Books As Gifts
I apologize to anyone who doesn't participate in the frenzy of gift-giving on or around the twenty-fifth day of December every year. I don't mean to marginalize you or ignore you, but today I'm going to post about giving and receiving books for Christmas.
Because giving and receiving books as gifts at any time of the year is fabulous, and I exhort all of you to do it as much as possible! And also because I'm still in that happy post-holiday glow and I don't want to write a post about technique or craft or any of that serious stuff! So let's just cut the crap and get to it:
What's the coolest book you gave/got for Christmas this year?
I'll start: Mighty Reader wanted Salman Rushdie's new novel Luka and the Fire of Life and so I bought it for her. I wanted the Everyman's Library edition of Samuel Beckett's Molloy, Malone Dies and The Unnamable trilogy, so she bought it for me. Yay, modernism! She also got me a cool non-fiction book about eels because, you know, eels.
Your turn!
Because giving and receiving books as gifts at any time of the year is fabulous, and I exhort all of you to do it as much as possible! And also because I'm still in that happy post-holiday glow and I don't want to write a post about technique or craft or any of that serious stuff! So let's just cut the crap and get to it:
What's the coolest book you gave/got for Christmas this year?
I'll start: Mighty Reader wanted Salman Rushdie's new novel Luka and the Fire of Life and so I bought it for her. I wanted the Everyman's Library edition of Samuel Beckett's Molloy, Malone Dies and The Unnamable trilogy, so she bought it for me. Yay, modernism! She also got me a cool non-fiction book about eels because, you know, eels.
Your turn!
Monday, November 8, 2010
Do We Love Specific Books Partially Because of the Hype?
Davin is gone this week to D.C. so I'll be filling in for his days. Hope you have fun, Davin!
______________
There are a lot of popular stories out there. I've read several of them - Harry Potter, Twilight, The Secret Life of Bees, Romeo & Juliet...
My question today is something I've wondered for a very long time. When you pick up a book that you know has received a lot of hype, can you possibly read it without any preconceived notions? I think one of my biggest pet peeves is someone fawning over something to the point of ridiculousness. Mac products are the absolute best products on the planet. You just HAVE to see Inception because it was the best movie EVER made. EvvvErrr.
Yeah, okay.
First of all I don't think there is a best movie ever made or a best book ever written or a best product out there. When something gets too much hype, I tend to get really annoyed and tune it out and sometimes refuse to take part in it at all. For instance, I still haven't seen Inception. I probably won't watch it for three years. I might not ever watch it
This means I'll pick up a popular book with a relatively clean slate. I will try not to bring to the table every wonderful amazing thing (or sometimes it's negative hype, which is still good hype for marketing) I have heard about it. I like to form my own opinions. Most of the time the popular opinion isn't something I agree with.
Yet...
I happen to think classic literary pieces like Macbeth and The Great Gatsby are simply wonderful. They are hyped up in my world, but is it because I love them or because I love that millions of other people have loved them before me and I was socially conditioned in a way to think they are high quality masterpieces? Talk about eating my own words above! I get annoyed by current hype, but call it a classic 20 years old or older and I'm all over it. Sometimes I wonder if we can separate ourselves at all from what (for today) I'm calling hype. Sometimes I wonder how many other masterpieces are out there that I'll never read because they didn't catch any hype so I never heard about them. Sand through the cracks...
What do you think?
______________
There are a lot of popular stories out there. I've read several of them - Harry Potter, Twilight, The Secret Life of Bees, Romeo & Juliet...
My question today is something I've wondered for a very long time. When you pick up a book that you know has received a lot of hype, can you possibly read it without any preconceived notions? I think one of my biggest pet peeves is someone fawning over something to the point of ridiculousness. Mac products are the absolute best products on the planet. You just HAVE to see Inception because it was the best movie EVER made. EvvvErrr.
Yeah, okay.
First of all I don't think there is a best movie ever made or a best book ever written or a best product out there. When something gets too much hype, I tend to get really annoyed and tune it out and sometimes refuse to take part in it at all. For instance, I still haven't seen Inception. I probably won't watch it for three years. I might not ever watch it
This means I'll pick up a popular book with a relatively clean slate. I will try not to bring to the table every wonderful amazing thing (or sometimes it's negative hype, which is still good hype for marketing) I have heard about it. I like to form my own opinions. Most of the time the popular opinion isn't something I agree with.
Yet...
I happen to think classic literary pieces like Macbeth and The Great Gatsby are simply wonderful. They are hyped up in my world, but is it because I love them or because I love that millions of other people have loved them before me and I was socially conditioned in a way to think they are high quality masterpieces? Talk about eating my own words above! I get annoyed by current hype, but call it a classic 20 years old or older and I'm all over it. Sometimes I wonder if we can separate ourselves at all from what (for today) I'm calling hype. Sometimes I wonder how many other masterpieces are out there that I'll never read because they didn't catch any hype so I never heard about them. Sand through the cracks...
What do you think?
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Whom Do You Hate? Er...Unlove? Strongly Dislike...
I received an email from a reader, Lindsay Samuels, a few days ago asking us to plug her site, and I must say it's worth plugging. She's pursuing a degree in Library Science (no easy task, I assure you) and has a site up which is informative and entertaining. Her latest post is great - 50 Most Hated Characters in Literary History.
Lindsay begins the post with the disclaimer that literature is highly subjective art. Yeah, we all know about that around here, don't we?
I found it interesting and disturbing that the 1st hated characters on Lindsay's list were Twilight's Edward and Bella. Following in the list are Beth March from Little Women, Hamlet from Shakespeare, and Robert Langdon from the Dan Brown novels. I liked Lindsay's little blurb about him:
Lindsay's article is a fun read. You should check it out. And if you don't see a character you hate (or love to hate...) in the list, add them here! And tell us why. It might be fun to compile our own list of hated characters and put it up somewhere alongside our most loved characters (we'll save that for another day).
One character I strongly dislike is Becky Sharp from Vanity Fair because the reader spends a good portion of the book rooting for her only to see her turn into a scheming, devious murdering (murdering is debatable) liar. That wouldn't be so bad if one views it all as her position as a woman in that time period - and that her terrible deeds are all crimes of circumstance (haha) - but the fact that she never truly loves her child and remains un-devoted to him at all is what makes her unlovable to me. I love the book, though. Go figure. I do think the fact that Becky is unlovable in so many ways makes her an admirable tool in the literary work. We can save that for another day, too.
Lindsay begins the post with the disclaimer that literature is highly subjective art. Yeah, we all know about that around here, don't we?
I found it interesting and disturbing that the 1st hated characters on Lindsay's list were Twilight's Edward and Bella. Following in the list are Beth March from Little Women, Hamlet from Shakespeare, and Robert Langdon from the Dan Brown novels. I liked Lindsay's little blurb about him:
Historical and religious inaccuracies aside, one of the biggest complaints that readers had against Robert Langdon is his veritable Mary Sue status. The man can do no wrong and has no discernable flaws, making him exceptionally boring and frustrating to read about.Ah, so true.
Lindsay's article is a fun read. You should check it out. And if you don't see a character you hate (or love to hate...) in the list, add them here! And tell us why. It might be fun to compile our own list of hated characters and put it up somewhere alongside our most loved characters (we'll save that for another day).
One character I strongly dislike is Becky Sharp from Vanity Fair because the reader spends a good portion of the book rooting for her only to see her turn into a scheming, devious murdering (murdering is debatable) liar. That wouldn't be so bad if one views it all as her position as a woman in that time period - and that her terrible deeds are all crimes of circumstance (haha) - but the fact that she never truly loves her child and remains un-devoted to him at all is what makes her unlovable to me. I love the book, though. Go figure. I do think the fact that Becky is unlovable in so many ways makes her an admirable tool in the literary work. We can save that for another day, too.
Friday, October 15, 2010
Friday Filler: What Are You Reading Right Now?
Yes, this is a game everyone can play! Just tell me what book you're reading right now. If you're loving the book, tell me why. Hopefully we'll all turn some of our writer neighbors on to new books. Because we are a community, right?
I'll start. Don't laugh. I'm reading "The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman" by Laurence Sterne. It's like 250 years old, and it's hysterically funny. It claims to be an autobiography, but really it's a comic look at life in 18th-century England and a comic look at the art of writing a book. The narrator claims that in order to give you the most accurate portrait of himself, he must give you every detail he can imagine, and so it takes him a whole year to write about a single day of his life (that is, the first day of his life). Meanwhile, you get a bunch of amusing anecdotes, dirty jokes, political broadsides that are still funny 250 years later because politics doesn't seem to have changed, and a whole lot of fun. Don't let the fact that it's a classic work of literature put you off, and never mind those people who say it's "difficult." It doesn't take itself (or the idea of a linear narrative) seriously.
I'm also reading one of the Paddington Bear books, but I can't remember which one.
Your turn. What are you reading?
I'll start. Don't laugh. I'm reading "The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman" by Laurence Sterne. It's like 250 years old, and it's hysterically funny. It claims to be an autobiography, but really it's a comic look at life in 18th-century England and a comic look at the art of writing a book. The narrator claims that in order to give you the most accurate portrait of himself, he must give you every detail he can imagine, and so it takes him a whole year to write about a single day of his life (that is, the first day of his life). Meanwhile, you get a bunch of amusing anecdotes, dirty jokes, political broadsides that are still funny 250 years later because politics doesn't seem to have changed, and a whole lot of fun. Don't let the fact that it's a classic work of literature put you off, and never mind those people who say it's "difficult." It doesn't take itself (or the idea of a linear narrative) seriously.
I'm also reading one of the Paddington Bear books, but I can't remember which one.
Your turn. What are you reading?
Friday, September 24, 2010
The Paris Review Interviews
In case you don't know, the Paris Review has been interviewing good writers (of fiction, poetry and nonfiction) for over half a century. They've put all of these interviews on the internets, here. Go read some of them; get inspired. Check out Hemingway's cranky boredom with George Plimpton. Imagine yourself answering the interviewers' questions.
Also! Starting tomorrow, it is Banned Books Week. Celebrate your freedom to read! Go expose yourself to something dangerous.
More and Better Also! If you live in glorious Seattle, make sure you swing by the University Bookstore (4326 University Way, N.E) by 7pm to hear Alexandra MacKenzie read from her debut novel Immortal Quest. You must come, and you must buy a copy, and Alex must sign it! Because I said so!
Also! Starting tomorrow, it is Banned Books Week. Celebrate your freedom to read! Go expose yourself to something dangerous.
More and Better Also! If you live in glorious Seattle, make sure you swing by the University Bookstore (4326 University Way, N.E) by 7pm to hear Alexandra MacKenzie read from her debut novel Immortal Quest. You must come, and you must buy a copy, and Alex must sign it! Because I said so!
Friday, August 13, 2010
Why Do They Put Up With Us, Anyway?
With every book and story I write, I reach a point where I’m about ¾ finished and suddenly the end is in sight. That’s a great moment. For a moment. Last night I told Mighty Reader that I was writing my way through the turning point of the current novel, and I thought I’d be finished with this draft in October sometime.
“That’s good,” she said. “Isn’t it?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “Now that I can really see the story written down in its broad sweep, I’m having doubts about it. Sometimes I think it’s really dumb.”
Mighty Reader looked at her watch.
“You’re right on schedule,” she said.
It’s that part of the process I loathe the most, where I know I’ll finish the book and fear that when I have finished, I’ll have written a very stupid book. Part of me wants to race ahead and get to the end and part of me wants to drag my feet and delay the inevitable moment when I realize how stupid I’ve been to waste the last six months on this steaming pile of prose. This is the absolute worst part of the process for me, and right now I’m twitchy, irritable and prone to arguments with friends and strangers alike. Mighty Reader, I must point out, is one patient woman to put up with my moods during this phase of the writing. No doubt she’d point out that I am just as moody when I haven’t been writing, and I’m as much of a pain in the ass in all the other stages of the work as I am now; I just don’t happen to notice it. Like I say, she’s patient.
So today I’d like to just thank Mighty Reader for her infinite understanding and remind you all to thank the Mighty Reader in your own lives, whoever that might be.
“That’s good,” she said. “Isn’t it?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “Now that I can really see the story written down in its broad sweep, I’m having doubts about it. Sometimes I think it’s really dumb.”
Mighty Reader looked at her watch.
“You’re right on schedule,” she said.
It’s that part of the process I loathe the most, where I know I’ll finish the book and fear that when I have finished, I’ll have written a very stupid book. Part of me wants to race ahead and get to the end and part of me wants to drag my feet and delay the inevitable moment when I realize how stupid I’ve been to waste the last six months on this steaming pile of prose. This is the absolute worst part of the process for me, and right now I’m twitchy, irritable and prone to arguments with friends and strangers alike. Mighty Reader, I must point out, is one patient woman to put up with my moods during this phase of the writing. No doubt she’d point out that I am just as moody when I haven’t been writing, and I’m as much of a pain in the ass in all the other stages of the work as I am now; I just don’t happen to notice it. Like I say, she’s patient.
So today I’d like to just thank Mighty Reader for her infinite understanding and remind you all to thank the Mighty Reader in your own lives, whoever that might be.
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Whatchaaa! Easing Up Our Expectations
When we read a book, we carry certain expectations, and if those expectations aren't met, no matter how small, we usually come away from the book disappointed. If the writer exceeds our expectations, we usually love the book and leave some sort of raving review with our husband or spouse or mom or on our blog. My husband happens to be a reader who carries very low expectations for movies and books, so even though something might be truly bad, he doesn't get upset about it. He takes it for what it is and bases his judgment against the product itself, not some ideal standard he had in his head. Because of this, I think he enjoys more creative things than I do, and he's happier for it...instead of me who walks around criticizing everything left and right.
When we write a story, most of us have expectations of what the story should be by the time we finish. I read several posts yesterday that held a running theme: I HATE MY BOOK. I think we all get this feeling at some point if we're working on a novel. But why do we hate our work? Because it's not cooperating? Because it's not measuring up to that ideal we set up in the first place? I know Scott is currently rewriting one of his books because the first drafts didn't measure up to what he had planned to do.
I've rewritten books before. From scratch. Because of this. It sucks.
However, on my last huge project, I promised myself not to rewrite anything. I promised myself not to let more than a few select people beta read the book. I promised myself to let the book be what it would be instead of trying to force it into a corner and make it behave. When I did this, truly amazing things happened and I ended up with a final product that pleases me more than almost everything else I've written.
Also, lately, I've been reading different genres. I've picked up YA books I never would have picked up before. I've read science fiction and fantasy instead of just literary classics I never got to read in college. I've let myself enjoy more things. I've let go of what I think I want and allowed myself to celebrate things as they are. I've stopped being so damn uptight about things, and I'm happier with my creativity. Much happier.
Do you suffer from this type of thing?
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If you haven't already, you should go check out Livia Blackburn's post about The Vulcan Mind Meld. Well, her post isn't actually titled that, but it's about how storytellers force their brain activity on their audience. Yes, very cool. I was going to do a post all about this, but Livia pretty much said it all.
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