Monday, September 15, 2008

I Want This Conversation To Be Over

David Foster Wallace hanged himself Friday.

I was a great fan of his essays. I never read his fiction. Infinite Jest sounded like a wonderful, dense, monumental read, but I'm already trying to read Proust, and, y'know, one literary mountain at a time.

Throughout his work, Wallace's genius was to get to the heart of what people are and why they do what they do. He found it perverse and often baffling (*), but never let his perspective slide too far into condescension without reminding himself that he was no better. His comments on the t-shirt booth at the Illinois State Fair remain my favorite in this vein; I don't have the text at hand, but it boils down to "who on Earth would wear these idiotic t-shirts...and who the hell am I for judging them?"

And there was the twist: his investigations never seemed to make him happy. At times (the titular essay of "A Supposedly Fun Thing..." is one example), he spiraled into a whirlpool of self-examination that was so critical it might have been called self-loathing if it hadn't been so funny. In "Consider The Lobster," in an essay on the English language, he laments his occasional social paralysis and inability to choose among the myriad different ways of expressing, for example, that he's tired of talking to someone and would like for them to leave so that he can go to bed. He ends up, he says, by blurting out, "I want this conversation to be over and for you to be out of my apartment." That he can see the humor in it and make us laugh doesn't make it any less awkward.

I feel like he finally figured out the way to say it. I wish he'd found another way. While I'm glad he left behind his humor, his insights, and his immense talent in writing, I'm angry because it's all tinged with sadness now. But in the end, we all have to choose our own path in this world, and sometimes out of it, and as Wallace himself might say, who the hell am I to judge?

Thanks for all the words. So long, DFW.

Tuesday, August 19, 2008

Y'load Sixteen Letters and Whaddya Get?

On the subject of making your words work, some interesting stuff from Elizabeth Bear (recent Hugo winner).

I have a book review to write and things to say about writing, mostly related to the fact that I'm in one of those states where I know I have to be writing what I'm writing but I want to be writing something else but I don't know what that is or I'd just do it ... anyway, the thing is that if you just keep writing what you have to be writing, eventually the "have to be" kind of fades out and you start enjoying it. At least, I do.

I'll worry about how much work my words are doing later. I'm reading "Smilla's Sense of Snow," which is at the same time a mystery and a really dense, literate book full of images and metaphors and characters and it's great and it's daunting because my story contains none of that.

Yet.

Sunday, August 10, 2008

Review: Amulet


Amulet volume 1: The Stonekeeper, by Kazu Kibuishi
8/10, a gorgeous graphic novel of a fantasy adventure

Kazu Kibuishi first came to our attention through his webcomic "Copper," which led us to the anthology book "Flight." Last year, we picked up Kazu's book "Daisy Cutter: The Last Train" (which I believe is his first published graphic novel) and loved it, so we bought "Amulet" pretty much automatically.

The story, in a nutshell: after the loss of their father in a tragic accident, Emily and her brother Navin move with their mother to an ancient family home that once belonged to her grandfather. The grandfather, as often happens in stories like these, was exploring some other world connected through the house, and left an amulet behind , which Emily finds and puts on. Almost as soon as they venture into the other world, their mother is kidnapped, leaving the children to fend for themselves, with the help of the mysterious amulet and another voice. They are, of course, stalked by a shadowy presence whose motives are hidden, and chased by monsters whose motives are all too plain.

The story itself is compelling enough, if rather plain. Emily and Navin both want to be grown up, but they also seem to be aware of the carefree life they're leaving behind as they take on the responsibility of finding their mother. The characters of the children and the people (and non-people) they meet are nicely developed, and the story is beautifully paced and engaging.

But the real treasure in Amulet is the art. Kibuishi is a master at shading and depth, and under his talented pen (digital or not), the world and its inhabitants come alive. He imagines Victorian fantasy constructions: houses, castles, dungeons, laboratories, creepy monsters, ancient relatives, all with the delicate, confident touch of a master of his art.

Kazu posts updates to his blog about "Amulet," including tips about how it's produced. If you like fantasy adventures, Amulet is a gorgeous find, and one that deserves all the attention it's getting.

Friday, August 08, 2008

Did You Get It?

A couple people have commented that "Common and Precious" is "not subtle." I guess that's true (and honestly, if that's the biggest complaint people have about it, I'm thrilled), though it's not something I'd really thought about when writing the book(*).

*Clearly.

So I have been thinking about it a bit recently, trying to toe the line between the perfectionism that demands that I correct every flaw perceived by every reader and the self-contained arrogance that sits in its cushy armchair and smugly says that the writing is what it is and that any flaws in the book are flaws in the reader reflected in the mirror-perfect surface of my work(**). I think what I've arrived at is the conclusion that there are some subtleties to the book--while Meli is never shy about shouting her preconceptions of lower class, her father's views are a bit more nuanced, his motives in chasing his daughter not as crystal-clear as they might be. But the book itself, no, is not subtle, and there's a good reason for that: I'm writing for an audience that does not easily pick up subtleties.

(**) The "Anne Rice" side of a writer.


Now, by that I don't mean to cast any aspersions on the perceptiveness of my readers, who are all wonderful people and obviously have excellent taste. No, I mean to cast aspersions on myself.

I grew up reading (a) science fiction, and (b) quickly. Neither of these things really lends itself to ponderous examination of a work for subtle nuances. So when I come to write the kind of book that I want to read, I don't put lots of layers in it. That would take time and effort. I want to make sure everything's more or less explained on the surface, because I hate going through books and coming to the end while still wondering why on earth the main character was so dead-set on catching that darn roadrunner, having to look up on some internet blog that oh, if you notice, his father was killed right around the time of some famous battle mentioned in another chapter in which the roadrunners had routed the coyotes, and didn't I notice that every time the main character's father is mentioned he starts getting hungry for poultry? Also, it should be noted, I am not Kazuo Ishiguro, who has the magical ability to plant an idea in your mind in chapter one and then poke you in chapter five to turn around and see that it's apparently been there all the time.

That said, it is something I'm working on. I think I can add layers without detracting from the surface plot, things like imagery and theme (and there is imagery and theme in C&P, albeit handled with all the grace and skill of an elephant on ice skates), things like word choice in certain situations. The thing is, what I don't know is whether someone complaining about a lack of subtlety is complaining about:

* Everything being laid out too much on the surface so there is nothing to figure out, or

* Nothing being underneath what's on the surface.

Because it is possible to write a book in which the story and plot and character motivations are all quite clear on the surface, but which also has layers underneath for those who care to look for them. I think that's what I will shoot for, because I don't really want to write a puzzle book and, as has been noted before, I am not all that skilled, really(***). I have also had readers fail to pick up things that I thought were obvious, and in the long run, I would rather have a couple readers complaining about lack of subtlety than a couple complaining about lack of understanding.

(***) This is only a little bit of false modesty. I am aware that I write like I read: too quickly and impatiently. I'm trying to teach myself patience and skill, and to get better at the minutiae that more demanding readers look for.

Tuesday, August 05, 2008

How Do You Start A Novel?

Kelly McCullough has some good thoughts on the matter...

I particularly like the comparison to an essay: get to your thesis statement, prove your thesis statement, recap your thesis statement. In essence, as our screenwriting teacher would say, your story is a thesis about the best way to live. The main character is missing something, or is doing something wrong, and in order to change his life, he needs to learn a lesson, gain an understanding, something like that. So it helps to think about that when you're structuring your character arc: show the reader what he needs; show the reader how he gets it and why he needs it; show the reader how much better life is when he has it (or how miserable he continues to be without it).

Saturday, August 02, 2008

Review: Nurk

Nurk: The Strange, Surprising Adventures of a (Somewhat) Brave Shrew, by Ursula Vernon
8/10, a cute and engaging children's adventure story

Disclaimer: I work for Sofawolf Press, publisher of Ursula's comic "Digger," Artistic Visions sketchbook, and novel "Black Dogs."

Nurk is Ursula's first foray into the world of children's literature. To her established fans, the story will be a delight. Her whimsical, sarcastic humor and lovely illustrations are up to her usual standards, and the characters are fun, adorable, and engaging. It's a cute story, complete with mistaken identity, kidnapped princes, grounded boats, and a star-nosed mole.

I enjoyed Nurk thoroughly, not least because of the humor Ursula scatters through it. A lot of it (specifically, his grandmother's diary) is aimed at adults, and will no doubt go over the heads of kids (for example: "The best plan for any sensible adventurer is to sweep in, take the throne, live like a king for a few weeks, and then sneak out in the middle of the night before people start asking unpleasant questions about road maintenance and tax relief."). But the story is enough to keep kids engaged, a good adventure tale along the line of "The Hobbit," with Nurk the reluctant hero swept into a quest that is--at first--beyond his capabilities, learning about himself as he rises to the challenge.

For adults, the story won't be quite as engaging as "The Hobbit." Though all the trappings are there, the stakes for Nurk are never so high as to make the adventure compelling. At every step, he is driven mostly by a vague discontentment with his own life and the memory of his grandmother Surka, who was, according to her own diary, an accomplished adventurer. The perils in Nurk's quest come quick and fast, and toward the end, they seem rather random.

But it's a fun story, for all that, and definitely worth a read. Your kids may have questions like "what's tax relief?" after reading it with them, but, you know, best they start asking it now.

Monday, July 28, 2008

The Harsh Glare of Fame

So there's this online magazine Anthro that has an interview with me and the other co-founder of our little small press, Jeff. If that sort of thing interests you, then you should go read it, and if it doesn't, then, well, you shouldn't. We mostly say fairly professional (bland) things about our goals and stuff and why am I even still talking about it?

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

Mistakes You Can Avoid

Over on PubRants, an agent has a couple posts up about mistakes beginning writers make. Not your standard stuff, pretty informative to read. A lot of it boils down to "show, don't tell," but in ways you might not initially pick up on. (I particularly like the second one: having characters in the story tell the reader about something that happened... because it feels like showing, but it's really not.)

Friday, July 11, 2008

What is your writing about?

Two posts in one day! This one's just a link to lot of things I've said about making your writing crisp and compelling, but said better and gathered into one place.

What is your story about?

A conversation between me and Ned, in e-mail. Yes, we are geeks who talk about this kind of stuff all the time. Ned's comments quoted.



I guess the thing is that Horror is usually a form of Mystery. Just the solution is a terrible one. Just never realized the link.
Is all genre fiction with a plot mystery? (he said provocatively!)

I actually said a while ago that any fiction with a plot (and some non-fiction with a plot) is a mystery in some sense of the word. The author is proposing a problem or conflict which the character must resolve, and our mystery is how the main character's going to do it. "Mystery" is actually a weird genre in that regard because in the really good ones, the question is not so much how (excepting locked-room mysteries) but "why." In standard fiction you know the "why" up front.

There is a funny bit in the Thursday Next books where all the members of the Literary police are talking about what every book really is about, what are the basic plots and what do they boil down to etc. etc etc and one guy, sort of grumbles. "Self discovery. It's all really the journey of self discovery." And maybe it is.

In our screenwriting class, the teacher discussed how in many movies, someone actually asks the main character the basic question he's trying to solve over the course of the movie, and 80% of the time it boils down to "Who do you think you are?" We watched "The Verdict" twice, and there's a great bit in the beginning when Paul Newman as the at-the-bottom-of-the-barrel lawyer goes to a funeral and gives his card to the grieving widow. Her brother throws him out and yells, "Who do you think you are?" It's a wonderful scene, and it fits so smoothly into the action that you don't really notice until you've watched it a couple times that that is the central question of the movie, for him: who IS he?

So yes, I would agree that most good stories are about self-discovery, and that in the process of the main character discovering him or herself, they teach us something about ourselves too.

Friday, July 04, 2008

Review: Thousand Leaves


Thousand Leaves, by Kevin Frane
8/10, a thrilling story with great characters in a completely realized furry world

Disclaimer: Kevin is a friend of mine and I edited "Thousand Leaves" for Sofawolf, so I am admittedly somewhat biased. :) I read it a while ago, but because it's just been released, I can post this.

Furry fiction lends itself to one of two main types of story: one in which the characters cannot stop obsessing over their "furriness" (whether good or bad), and one in which the furriness barely plays a role. It's rare to find a world that is so internally consistent that the ramifications of a society composed of so many different species are apparent to the reader, but completely ordinary to the characters. It's even rarer to find a good story set in such a world.

The world of "Thousand Leaves" is a multi-species community, at a level of technology roughly contemporary to ours. The city itself is a marvel of architecture and class distinction, with three levels separated from each other physically as well as by class. Reeve, one of the heroes of the book, has just come off a relationship that propelled him into the higher class briefly. He misses both the higher class and the relationship, but more importantly, he's starting to feel that something is wrong with him. His ex, who has taken up with a new boyfriend, misinterprets Reeve's attempts to warn him, even when some of their other upper-class friends start to get sick. Reeve has to turn to their mutual friend Monique and, in a strange turn of events, his ex's new boyfriend, to get to the bottom of the disease.

To tell more about the plot would be to ruin the excitement of what is a tautly constructed thriller. The early part of the book starts slowly, introducing you to the ensemble cast and the spiderweb of relationships that connect them, while laying the groundwork for the medical thriller to come. Think of it as the clack-clack-clack of the roller coaster mounting the hill. Once you crest the hill--and you'll know just where that is--the book doesn't let you go.

Kevin has a terrific touch with character, which allows him to pull off the very tricky feat of having an ensemble cast with character arcs of their own. Each of the personalities in the book is distinct and well-realized, with marvelous dialogue between them. The real joy of "Thousand Leaves" is getting to know the characters, and that's what gives an extra dimension to the medical thriller: you've come to truly care about the characters whose lives are at stake. That's not to short-change his ability to describe the city or the pathos he plunges his cast into, nor the complex plot he has his characters navigate, nor the textured feeling of the world they live in. But the characters are the heart of this book, and a vibrant, engaging heart it is.

I don't usually review Sofawolf books because I'm so intimately involved in the selection, edition, and production. And of course I'm going to say good things about our titles. But I'm particularly proud of having been a part of the release of "Thousand Leaves," not only because it's good for Kevin and good for Sofawolf, but because it's such a great story and exemplar of what we look for in a furry novel. So take my review with a grain of salt, but give "Thousand Leaves" the benefit of the doubt. We wouldn't be printing it if it weren't a great book.

Review: Ghost Map


The Ghost Map, by Steven Johnson
9/10, Fascinating examination of the causes, revelations, and impact of the 1854 Broad Street cholera epidemic in London

I secretly love the science of epidemiology: tracing the cause of a disease by looking at the patterns of how it spreads. The modern father of the science is John Snow, a British physician, and his seminal case was a cholera epidemic that struck the London slum of Soho in 1854. In order to prove his theory that the disease was transmitted by water, he created a map of the area showing cases of cholera in relation to the pumps that dispensed fresh water to the neighborhood. The prevailing theory of the time was that disease was spread by foul air, or a "miasma," and the Board of Health authorities were so fixated on this theory that even Snow's map did little to convince them.

"Ghost Map" traces the life of Snow and his partner in the investigation, Reverend Henry Whitehead, as well as the life of the small community that was devastated by cholera. Johnson views cities as life forms, their residents the "cells" that contribute to the overall health of the whole. One of the most fascinating parts of the book is the opening section, in which he discusses the organically developed solution to the problem of recycling waste (human and otherwise) in London.

The book chronicles not only the spread of an epidemic, the birth of a science, and the lives of two remarkable men; it also traces our migration from an agrarian life to an urban life, with all the benefits and challenges that accompany that change. Johnson sees the response to the Broad Street epidemic as a turning point, where cities began providing solutions to their own problems. His overview of those problems and benefits is just another wonderful piece of this work.

For the writer in me, this book is a reference I will keep around. If I have questions about cities in Renaissance or Victorian-era times, or thoughts about what problems future cities might solve more effectively than we have today, I have only to pull out "Ghost Map" for a refresher. It's hard to find intimate details of life in those early cities without reading through a Dickens novel, but here again "Ghost Map" proves valuable. And finally, the portrait of the two investigators, as well as the forces arrayed against them, is a wonderful character study.

Anyone interested in epidemiology, disease, Victorian-era society, city life, or simply a good story will love this book. Just don't discuss the finer details of cholera transmission over dinner.

Thursday, July 03, 2008

Uninspired

Sometimes none of the projects you're working on really excite you. If you're tired (as I am today despite having had reasonable sleep this week), it's a lot harder to make yourself work on things. I know I'm excited at some level about all of these things I'm writing. It's just that I haven't been thinking about them recently, so they're not front of my not-particularly-active mind.

But that just means it's a good time to do some reading. I'll have a review up for you pretty soon.

Saturday, June 28, 2008

* Unrelated to Writing

It's that time of year again, when Mark and I join the SF AIDS Walk. They've got a very nice donation system up, and if you want to help out, you can sponsor me with any amount... every little bit helps. We have made lots of progress towards helping those suffering from AIDS, but there's still a lot of work left to be done. Thanks for anything you can do--and sorry, I won't hijack this space that often. :)

Thursday, June 26, 2008

So...Many...Ideas...

I love stuff like this. It's all real! Huge counterweights inside buildings that cause earthquakes!

Thursday, June 19, 2008

How To Practice Your Writing Every Day

Life is complicated. You want to think that the guy who just cut you off in traffic is just a jerk. You want to be the victim or the hero in all of the little stories you live every day. And sometimes you are, sure. Sometimes you're not. Sometimes you're both wrong, or both right, or both just operating under bad assumptions.

Take a moment and step into the other person's shoes. This is what every good writer has to be able to do. You need to see things from other points of view. Maybe the guy in traffic is a jerk who needs to get ahead of other people. What kind of insecurities make him that way? How does it manifest at his job, in his relationships, his life? There's a character for your next story.

Wednesday, June 18, 2008

Remembrance of Things Past

You can always count on Garrison Keillor for some nice, lyrical writing. On the rising price of gas and the falling stock of Winnebago, in Salon:

So when gas passes $5 and heads for $8 and $10, we will learn to sit in dim light with our loved ones and talk about hunting and fishing adventures, about war and romance and times of consummate foolishness when we threw caution to the wind and flung ourselves over the Cliffs of Desire and did not land on the Sharp Rocks of Regret.

I'll tell you about the motor home trip and how lovely it was, cruising the prairie at night and drinking beer, stopping by a little creek and grilling fish on a Coleman stove, listening to coyotes. The vanishing of the R.V. only makes your story more interesting. One thing lost, something else gained. Life is like that.

Sunday, June 15, 2008

I'm Bleak!

This is probably the only time I'll be on a list with Cormac McCarthy...

Nice to see my books out there on sites like this, though. :)

Tuesday, May 27, 2008

Different Kinds of Writing

On Reporting vs. Journalism, some--okay, a lot of--very insightful words by one of this blog's favorite writers-at-large, the guy with the gay porn star name, Lance Mannion.

There's no real 'money line,' but here's a good one for writers to keep in mind:

And journalists, real journalists, don't go out into the world just to talk to people. They go out to see how the world is working. They have to collect data. Writers and poets and painters and most other people call this data the details that God is in. Journalists have to see the landscape, they have to see and be able to identify the flowers and weeds dotting the landscape. They have to observe processes and understand how those processes function to the point where they can explain them as well as any expert but in language non-experts can follow (and there's some of the writer's work that has to be done even before sitting down at the keyboard; gathering the details precisely requires finding the right words on the fly), they have to know so they can describe it later, as Hemingway said they had to be able to, how the weather was, the weather being both a metaphorical and a literal fact.

Getting published

I did a panel at the recent Rocky Mountain Fur Con called "From Writer To Author: Getting Published," which went okay. At least, it generated good discussion and I ended up rambling on about character wants and stuff. I thought I'd post my notes here for interested people. It includes a rather long quote from the fangs_fur_fey LJ community, because I'm lazy and didn't want to take the time to say it myself.

The problems most people have with getting published--by a moderated, edited press or journal, as opposed to a "throw whatever online" site--come down to two large areas:

1. Make your writing better
2. Figure out how to submit

So here's my thoughts on those two:

Making your writing better
1. Learn to read with a critical eye.
2. Read a story twice, first to get the feel of the story, the second time to read it critically and pick out what the author is doing and how it contributes to the overall tone of the story.
As an exercise: pick two of your favorite books/stories from the past year. List three things you really liked about each one. This can be anything—a character, a setting, a twist of the story, the way the author uses language, whatever. Now, for each of those things, take some time to figure out why you liked it. Don't just say, “because it was cool.” Try to figure out what the author did that made that particular character, setting, language stand out for you. Look at other books with similar stories, similar characters, and compare. Why does one appeal to you more than another? Take those lessons and apply them to your own writing.
3. Read your work out loud to a friend. Reading out loud forces you to consider every word, to hear them rather than letting your mind skim over them.
4. Join a workshop or form a workshop group. Get critiques from people who are actually interested in critiquing, not in either tearing you down without being helpful or building you up without being critical. Learn how to critique: this will help you look at your own work more critically.

How to submit
1. Do some basic research on the publication. Make sure your submission fits their profile and guidelines.
2. Read what else is being published in the field. Your work is going to be read in that context, so you need to understand the context too. This doesn't mean you have to write something that's exactly like everything else, or completely different from everything else. Ideally, you should be in the ballpark, but distinctive enough to make an editor sit up and notice.
3. Format your submission properly and follow all submission guidelines. When you think your submission is ready, go back and read the guidelines again with a fine-toothed comb to make sure.
4. BE PROFESSIONAL AT ALL TIMES.

On that topic, a comment on author-editor relationships from Phil Brucato, in the fangs_fur_fey LJ community:

As a professional author, an occasional publisher, a writing professor, and an editor for over five years, I think I can answer your question... though my response might not be the answer you want.
Editors receive massive numbers of manuscripts. In order to process even a fraction of them, they (and/or their assistants) must scan copious submissions, applying a number of criteria(*) to see whether or not the submission in question warrants deeper consideration. This is not an elitist power-trip, but an absolute necessity. After all, even editors need to eat and sleep, and there's far more to an editor's job than simply scanning, reviewing and polishing manuscripts!
From my own experience, I can say that barely 15% of submissions get beyond this stage. The majority of submissions are poorly written, grammatically appalling, stylistically unsound, unproofed, badly-printed (if printed at all!), or otherwise violate basic publishing standards. I have no idea whether or not your manuscript fit any of those categories, but the overall rule is usually "If it violates Standard A, B or C, I'm not reading past page 1." Again, this is simple practicality. An editor simply does not have the time to make personal in-depth evaluations of everything s/he receives. There isn't time or energy enough to do so!
Beyond that, an editor must judge submissions by other criteria: whether or not the author(s) meet the promise of their premise; whether or not the project holds that reader's interest; whether or not the proposal fits the plans, needs, identity or limitations of the publishing company; whether or not a similar project is already in the works or on the schedule; whether or not the book is likely to exceed the H-U-G-E costs involved in producing, printing, stocking, shipping, marketing and producing said book; and finally, whether or not the editor enjoys, agrees with or believes in the proposal at all. Any or all of these considerations may derail a book during the reading stage - and believe me, an editor is too busy to keep detailed records about each element of every project that crosses his/her desk, especially at a major publishing house!