Stats are Whack (and Wicked Helpful)

Once upon a time, I was discussing Miss Snitch with my dad, and I mentioned that two of the secondary male characters were dating each other. Now, I tend not to bring up my characters' personal business unless it's actually related to what they're doing, and in this case it was. But my dad's reaction was something along the lines of "Isn't that a bit much for YA?"

Me, I didn't think so. Because, near as I can tell, most teens have met LGBT people. There are LGBT people in the schools YA readers go to. Most teens are fans of LGBT celebrities. Some readers will be LGBT people. To boil this down: No, because LGBT people are a fact of life and thus are fit for books.

Once upon a time, in the fantastic play The Importance of Being Ernest by the utterly wonderful Oscar Wilde, "I don't know whether there is anything particularly exciting about the air in this particular part of Hertfordshire, but the number of engagements that go on seem to me to be considerably above the proper average that statistics have laid down for our guidance." This is very useful advice, even when one isn't trying to get engaged.

In life, the shadow (stats) move in response to the sun (people), but in fiction, if you want it to look like life, the the shadows of actual life need to tell us, as writers, where our suns should be pointing.

Hannah from Invincible Summer once posed the question: Why aren't there more characters like me?

This is a good question. Readers want to be able to recognize themselves in the books they read. But, if that's really going to happen, books have to reflect actual life with characters like actual people. That includes the statistical minorities. They exist in life, so why aren't they in the books?

I, for one, think sometimes I try so hard not to make every character in my book just like me that maybe I forget to make them like people. To include a little something for everyone. But it's definitely something I'm trying to work on. Because everyone reads books, so everyone should have someone to relate to in them. No one should be out there thinking, "Why aren't there characters like me?"

How do you feel about this? Do you let stats or your life experiences tell you how to make up your world? Do you have trouble finding characters like you?

Ghosts

Captain Film Major recently used his extensive powers of persuasion (read: getting my mother to make her guilting face -- I can't say no to my mother) to convince me to watch The Ghost Writer. What can I say, I don't usually watch movies.

At any rate, in one scene in the movie, the MC remarks at a book launch that ghost writers are rarely invited to book launches, because they're something of a dirty secret. "Like a mistress at a wedding," he comments.

After my family and I recovered from the brilliance of that line, I started thinking about it. A large part of me wonders what it would be like to always be doing my writing for someone else. To not be able to really work on my own ideas, because I had to pursue someone else's vision. To not be able to put my own name on my work, because I wasn't supposed to exist.

I'm not sure I could do it. I've never tested this, but I think seeing my work on a bookshelf and having to pretend I didn't work on it might just kill me. (I guess that means I'll never be Lemony Snickett or Silence Dogood. Somehow, though, I'll survive that fear though.) I don't think I'd risk it on ghostwriting.

How about you? Could you ever work as a ghostwriter? How do you feel about ghostwriting?

What's My Motivation?

A while ago, I was watching a movie with My Twin Formerly Known As The Other One, and when the villain was on the urge of admitting that they were the Vile Betrayer, my sister said, "It'd be great if that character had reasons and motivations, instead of just being a bitch."

After about half a moment's consideration, I realized she had a point. We were watching a character betray everything they were supposed to value and stand for, and they never actually explained why. No one even so much as implied that he'd been offered vast sums of wealth in exchange for his efforts in this villainous plot.

Now, I don't know about most people, but I feel I'd certainly need a reason to suddenly start working for the powers of evil and darkness. In fact, generally speaking, I like to have a reason for pretty much anything I do. And while I won't cast myself as an expert on the human race, I'm going to go out on a limb there and say most people are the same way.

People have motivations. Characters, as mirrors of people, should have motivations as well. Tempting as it might be to have characters charge blindly in a certain direction simply for the entertainment value (and, I know, sometimes it's tempting), characters need to do things for a reason, otherwise your reader's going to be sitting there wondering, "I don't understand. If she has awesome control of the universe, why didn't she just cause the chocolate to appear before her, instead of going on a magical quest to Hershey, PA?" And then your reader's going to have a point. (I know, dashed inconvenient, isn't that?)

Plus, motivations keep your characters interesting. A well-motivated character will be able to do interesting things with impunity, because they'll make sense. And a well-motivated character is usually more interesting, because motivations derive from important events in a character's life, and these events flesh out the character.

Motivations are the whys of characters and their actions, and understanding these whys helps the reader understand a character's actions and you understand your character.

In my WIP, Cordamant's Heir, my MC, Amira, has to flee the country to escape murder charges. She flees west (the direction of my plot), instead of north. Why? Because she's got slight issues with, well, the entire country to the north. Why? That country instigated a war that led directly to her father's death. So she's not exactly interested in moving there for an indefinite period of time. Does she know this prejudice is unfair? Yes. Does she know this isn't the time to let her thinking be influenced by irrationality? Yes. Does she let herself be influenced anyway? Yes. Why? Because this is too deeply ingrained an emotion to be combated by simple logic alone. She's heading west, and she's doing it for her own reasons.

In Harry Potter (because life is also improved with a Harry Potter reference, and because I feel reasonably sure I can make it and be understood -- ooh, look, I have motivations), character motivations are very important. There's a running issue throughout the series based on Professor Snape's motivations for saving Harry in book 1, because Harry thinks Snape's motives are one thing, is told they were another, realizes he was in error about the other, and in the final book realizes he was just dead wrong about all the reasoning. But without Snape's being motivated to keep Harry alive, Harry would have died in book 1, and there'd be no other books, and wouldn't that be sad for all of us? Oh, and Snape's motivations for keeping Harry alive were also his reasons for being in the Order in the first place, and for teaching at the school, and for hating James, and for serving Dumbledore so faithfully. Gosh those motives were integral.

Motives are useful. They explain your character and their actions to both the reader and the writer. They create the internal logic of the story, so that things don't seem to be happening willy-nilly. They are the answer to the ever present "why?".

Do you ever find yourself reading/watching/listening/observing a situation in which a character has no distinct or readily apparent motivation but instead seems to be acting at random? How does this make you feel? How far are you willing to follow a character of no apparent motivation?

Back From Canada

I am back in the States! Technically, I arrived at 1am Monday morning, but I chose sleep, unpacking, and laundry over blogging. Not that I don't love you guys and all, but some things had to take priority, such as brain function and wearable clothes. But, thankfully, I'm back.

Those of you who weren't living in my house a week and change ago (and, thankfully, that's none of you, to the best of my knowledge, or that would be slightly creepy. Yes, even if you are a sparkly vampire secretly and desperately in love with me, or desperately in love with my blood, that too. That would still be creepy) probably don't realize how big an accomplishment getting my whole family from one country to another and back turned out to me.

The night before my little US contingent of the clan was supposed head to Canada to meet with the rest of the clan, we went to the airport at around 11pm to pick up The Other One and Captain Film Major who'd been in Chicago. When we got the home, my mother performed the obligatory passport check, to which my sister replied something along the lines of "Ohmygod."

That's when we began searching high and low for said passport. Couldn't find it. (For the record, we still haven't. Oh, Other One, you're lucky I love you.) Three hours of searching, and five plus calls to various consulates to check out passport laws, we changed travel plans so that The Other One and my father would drive to Toronto and catch a different flight to reunite with the clan. Oh, the plans people create at 3am.

Turns out, when you're carrying a freaking ton of ID, you can get across a border with only minor difficulty. Though, of course, when my Dad told the story to the family -- which has apparently expanded to include relations I didn't know I even had--, it involved a detention facility, rubber hoses, and the concept of Good Mountie/Bad Mountie. (It's okay if you want to take this moment to contemplate what a Bad Mountie would look like. I couldn't quite picture it.) Still, I guess the storytelling value is what counts.

Getting back into the country was much easier. I personally voted for trying to smuggle The Other One in in a duffel bag, but that plan got shouted down. Pity, since I thought that would have been a nice story. Of course, there was also the option where she committed a felony so she could be extradited back to the US. That did get some momentary discussion. But she's back in the US, and legally too. We're so happy.

Hope you've all had an interesting week. :) What've you been up to? Any Mountie stories?

Canada Day!

Today is Canada Day. (Think Independence Day, but for Canadians. Hey, everyone deserves a national day.)

In a somewhat fitting manner, as you read this, I'm probably in transit to Canada to celebrate the upcoming (read: occurring tomorrow and I'm very excited about it) nuptials of my cousin Sacha and his fiancee, Sukhia. I'm so happy for them. Sacha and Sukhia, if you're reading this (can't imagine that you are, but it's still true), I love you and wish you endless joy. Congratulations.

Now, to all Canadians (or those who are Canadian at heart): Happy Canada Day!

To everyone: I'm including this video, because it's highly amusing and, in many ways, accurate. Hope you enjoy.

I'm Back, With A New Blogging Schedule

Hi all, I'm back from Chicago (which I will never call Chi-town, because quite frankly, I don't understand that). I had a good time. I got to see The Other One and even Captain Film Major. (He, by the way, introduced me to a restaurant called Epic Burger. While I'm not much for burgers, that's not a bad burger, and they serve some mean fries. So, yes, my whole eating healthy thing got pretty well shot to hell.)

While in Chicago, I also got some good reading in -- I highly recommend I'd Tell You I Love You But Then I'd Have To Kill You by Ally Carter -- and some serious progress on Cordamant's Heir. I'm still in the first act, but things are coming along nicely. (So far, analeptic kisses: 1, analeptic tales of battle: about 3, murders:0 -- for now.)

Sadly, I didn't bring y'all souvenir's from Chicago. Not because I don't love you, I promise.

But, I have realized, since I went away, that it is probably time to adjust my blogging schedule. It's sunny out now, and I'm writing a first draft again, both of which are things that make me disinclined to blog. So, I'll be stick around the blogosphere and reading all your lovely posts, but I'll be posting fewer of my own ramblings. Probably 3, maybe 4, a week, on whichever days I see fit. (Yes, I still refused to be tied to specific days on that, since I'm a rebel like that.)

I hope y'all had a great weekend. How are you all doing this fine day?

I'm in Awe of My Friends

I'm pretty in awe of some of my friends. See, one of my friends is studying to be a director. So, what did he do last year? He convinced one of my other friends to translate The Seagull for him, he persuaded a mutual friend to help him make 1930s costumes, he cast some actors -- including The Other One! -- and he made the movie. From what I've seen, it looks pretty good, if I do say so myself, though I might just be 50-75% biased. Either way, I'm wicked impressed with him.

Here's the trailer.

The Seagull from David Crowley on Vimeo.

Hair

Today I straightened my sister's hair. Normally, I only do that for special occaisions and sometimes the odd Tuesday. Today, though, she's working on a movie with a friend and insists the only way to get it to look right in a bun is to straighten it first. Don't ask me why. And it occured to me as I worked it with the hot iron that straightening hair is a lot like writing.

For those of young unfamiliar with the process of straightening hair properly (as I was up until last year when a 15-year-old told me I didn't have a clue how to do it), to straighten hair well, one must not only use small pieces at a time, one must work in layers.

Personally, I like to work up the bottom up, and all hair that I'm not dealing with at the time, I like to twist up and clip to the top of my sis's head with a clip. I pull out a snippet at a time and straighten it until it's good. Once I've done that layer, I release the rest, pull out another layer, reclip, and repeat.

How does this connect to writing, you might ask. (In fact, you probably are asking, because I could quite easily sound like a wingnut so far.) It reminds me of editting to turn a book into a better book.

Think of my sister's hair pre-straightening as a rough draft of sorts. (**Dodges objects thrown by people who don't like straightening/anti-consumerists trying to fight movements like hair straighteners/feminists who'd like to remind me that ridiculous beauty ideals are part of the male patriarchy. **) I worked the hair with layers to make it into the hair she wanted it to be.

The bottom layer, which people don't see much but you need to straighten anyway or you missed the point, would be the plot. Maybe you can make it through a reading of a book without a plot whole being noticed, so long as it isn't glaring, but all in all it helps to have that all smoothed out. Otherwise, there'll be some readers thinking, 'you know, that doesn't make sense. Why didn't Sheila just blast the alien with her plutonium death ray, jump down the whole, and save Pietrichoff from the goblin, instead of going the long way around?' If one doesn't straighten the base, one risks it rumpling the other hair. First step is figuring out your plot so it all makes sense.

The middle layers, much more visible than the bottom and very important to the overall appearance of nice hair, would be things like characterization, world-building, tension, suspense, flow of dialogue, symbols, theme continuity, and all those other things that go into making a good book. Without a well smoothed middle, no one cares about the bottom layer's straightness, and a perfect top layer can't possibly conceal a bad middle. The middle part is just too big and too important.

The top layer is overall word choice. While I will from now until I die endorse the practice of using the right word and not that word's second cousin (or worse, it's second cousin's husband's old barber from when it lived in Wichita), I still know that no matter how brilliant and perfect the word choice, no matter how concise the phrasing, if you're wasting these perfect prose on poor under layers, it's not all going to come together well.

Having one of the layers alone will cut it, just like only straightening half of my sister's hair wouldn't have worked. If I wanted it to look good, then I had to take the time to go at it layer by layer and make it all look good. Sure, I could have tried to do it all at once or to take one layer sometimes and another layer the other times without a serious plan, but those methods would not have given me anywhere near such good results.

The key is time, patience, and taking it one piece at a time.

Poof and Gone

I'm about to pull a disappearing act.

Tomorrow, I intend to rise at an indecent hour to board a plane to Canada to attend my cousin's wedding. After that, my family and I are attending a theater festival in Canada. I love my family, especially my cousins, and I love theater, but I am a little sad that I will most likely miss all of the blogosphere whilst gone.

I don't love long flights, but there is a silver lining: Confined to an airplane seat, I will have almost no choice but to buckle down and catch up on my writing. :-)

See you all when I get back.

Family

Someone once told me that friends are life's way of making up for family. Personally, I think our friends are meant to be our family, not just an apology for the people to whom we accidentally ended up related.
Today, my technical director taught one of my friends how to drive a stick-shift. It seemed sad to think he wasn't doing it with his dad, but really, our TD is a lot like his dad, so it was really sweet. Today, we all worked to help a friend get a date for prom. It felt so sibling like. We laughed over a shared breakfast. We are family. Sure, we're not blood, but we're closer than that.
Think about it. You talk to your friends more than you probably talk to your cousins. You're more likely to help a friend pick out a new puppy than to hear that your aunt has just started playing the piano. We live our lives with out friends these days. Maybe, in about 75 years, an anthropologist will tell us if that's a good thing for society, and I'm sure in two minutes a shrink will post on a different blog what all of this is really saying about us as a culture, but for now, all I know is that's how we roll.
Together.