Hi guys.
I know it's been a while. I let myself get swamped under a play and bunch of other things. But, I'm back now, hopefully.
How've you all been in my absence? Good, I hope. Anything interesting happen?
Some of you might have noticed a name change on my profile. When I first started writing, I was very embarrassed. I didn't want anyone to know I'd been silly enough to actually think I could do something like that. So, I used on of my alternate names -- Dominique. Still me, but not something that would show up on a Google search.
But four years later, I'm still writing and reading and blogging (as my life allows). And I've been thinking for a while that I should start using my real name. I'm not embarrassed anymore. I'm a writer, and I don't care if anyone finds out about it. I'm proud of what I do.
On a related note, I've recently done something very stupid: sign up for Twitter. Because what I really needed in my day was one more time vampire. But, you know, if you're ever jonesing for more of my voice, you can follow me. And, you know, say hey, so I can follow you back.
What have you been up to?
Showing posts with label thinking. Show all posts
Showing posts with label thinking. Show all posts
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Friday, July 29, 2011
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?
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?
Friday, July 15, 2011
Evidence of Things Not Seen
Once upon a time, I played the character Douglass in a play called "Party Time" by Harold Pinter. A friend of mine was playing Dame Melissa. When we mentioned to some friends that we were in the same play, they exclaimed, "Cool. We'll come. What's it about?"
That, as it turned out, was where the trouble started. Because, after staring at each other for two minutes, we realized that having auditioned for, been cast in, and read the play, we still couldn't say what it was about.
Of course, two months later, when we were ready to go up, we could answer that question almost succinctly. It just took some explaining.
As it turns out, the thing that made the play so interesting but also so hard to describe that it didn't have the usual sort of plot. This occurred, but they didn't coalesce toward one main character or one main goal. Instead, the real action of the play all seemed to be happening off-stage.
The play was about what all the characters weren't talking about or were being told not to talk about.
This is a tricky proposition. How does one build an entire plot whilst not saying things? How does one delete just enough to leave gaps big enough to see but small enough things don't fall through?
While I firmly believe that black cannot be seen without white and that it is entirely possible to draw a white egg on a white paper using only colored pencils, I wonder how much we can leave not there and have people still be able to see anything at all.
Obviously, it can be done. It has been done. But I find it a tricky and intimidating consideration nonetheless.
I do not favor the minimalist style when I write. In my first draft, I chuck things on the paper. Tons of things, not always with a clear plan about what to do with them or a full understanding of what they mean. In my next draft, I carve things out that I don't need anymore, things that were overstated, things I changed my mind about. I create the white space that wasn't there again. Then again, in later drafts, I also add things back in. I set up things I'd made decisions about later in the process. I change things do not reflect my final vision of the character. I add the black back in.
Writing's a growing process, to my way of seeing it. Each draft is a continuous process of shading and erasing, altering line thicknesses and darkness. To varying degrees, of course. But I do know that, by the time I'm done, it's a piece composed largely of what is said, not what is unsaid.
How about you? Do you favor the spoken or the unspoken when you read? When you write?
That, as it turned out, was where the trouble started. Because, after staring at each other for two minutes, we realized that having auditioned for, been cast in, and read the play, we still couldn't say what it was about.
Of course, two months later, when we were ready to go up, we could answer that question almost succinctly. It just took some explaining.
As it turns out, the thing that made the play so interesting but also so hard to describe that it didn't have the usual sort of plot. This occurred, but they didn't coalesce toward one main character or one main goal. Instead, the real action of the play all seemed to be happening off-stage.
The play was about what all the characters weren't talking about or were being told not to talk about.
This is a tricky proposition. How does one build an entire plot whilst not saying things? How does one delete just enough to leave gaps big enough to see but small enough things don't fall through?
While I firmly believe that black cannot be seen without white and that it is entirely possible to draw a white egg on a white paper using only colored pencils, I wonder how much we can leave not there and have people still be able to see anything at all.
Obviously, it can be done. It has been done. But I find it a tricky and intimidating consideration nonetheless.
I do not favor the minimalist style when I write. In my first draft, I chuck things on the paper. Tons of things, not always with a clear plan about what to do with them or a full understanding of what they mean. In my next draft, I carve things out that I don't need anymore, things that were overstated, things I changed my mind about. I create the white space that wasn't there again. Then again, in later drafts, I also add things back in. I set up things I'd made decisions about later in the process. I change things do not reflect my final vision of the character. I add the black back in.
Writing's a growing process, to my way of seeing it. Each draft is a continuous process of shading and erasing, altering line thicknesses and darkness. To varying degrees, of course. But I do know that, by the time I'm done, it's a piece composed largely of what is said, not what is unsaid.
How about you? Do you favor the spoken or the unspoken when you read? When you write?
Monday, June 20, 2011
Did We Read the Same Source Material?
Ever go see a movie based on a book you really like and walk out thinking, "I'm sorry, did we read the same book?" Characters have disappeared or been created, entire story arcs were cut or doubled in size, moments of deep symbolic meaning or absolutely no meaning whatsoever materialized from nowhere while deeply meaningful moments vanished in a puff of smoke.
I think we've all been there. And, if you're like more, you tend to leave the theater in something of a huff. It's very rare that I leave a theater having seen a flick that made radical changes to the text where I didn't think, "You're not seriously claiming that was based on the book? You barely nodded to the original text!"
Because for me, there's a line between Based On, Inspired By, and Loosely Connected To (See How We Kept The Names the Same).
I'm not saying I've never seen it well done. The movie Stardust in 2007 got very free with Niel Gaiman's novel -- a book I liked quite a bit -- and when I saw many of the changes, I said, "Nice. I see why you did that." Because many of the adaptations were made as concessions to the medium rather than in total disregard for the original text.
On the other hand, Elton John's rock opera version of Aida is, to my mind, more Inspired By Verdi's original than actually based on it. They cut 3 of the acts, change most of Amneris's character arc, and rewrite a fair amount of Radames's backstory. But, you know, they kept the names the same. It's a nice reference, but, to me, almost a different play entirely.
Captain Film Major tends to come to the defense of adaptations. He says I expect them to bear too strong a resemblance to the book. Maybe I do. But that's because I have a very strict interpretation of the line between Based On and Inspired By. I think when you start getting jiggy with the plot, you're crossing over. He doesn't share that opinion.
For the first time, the project I'm working on was inspired by certain source material, and I chose to work closely with that material in the creation of the text. On the other hand, as the piece grew on its own, it moved away from the original source. I'd already changed most names, many motivations, a fair amount of characterization, and the ending. I think I've moved from Based On to Inspired By and, who knows, maybe even closer to Connected To (See How I Make All Those References). But that's just where the project wants to go.
How about you? Where do you draw the lines of Based On and Inspired By? Do you ever do Based On work? Inspired By?
I think we've all been there. And, if you're like more, you tend to leave the theater in something of a huff. It's very rare that I leave a theater having seen a flick that made radical changes to the text where I didn't think, "You're not seriously claiming that was based on the book? You barely nodded to the original text!"
Because for me, there's a line between Based On, Inspired By, and Loosely Connected To (See How We Kept The Names the Same).
I'm not saying I've never seen it well done. The movie Stardust in 2007 got very free with Niel Gaiman's novel -- a book I liked quite a bit -- and when I saw many of the changes, I said, "Nice. I see why you did that." Because many of the adaptations were made as concessions to the medium rather than in total disregard for the original text.
On the other hand, Elton John's rock opera version of Aida is, to my mind, more Inspired By Verdi's original than actually based on it. They cut 3 of the acts, change most of Amneris's character arc, and rewrite a fair amount of Radames's backstory. But, you know, they kept the names the same. It's a nice reference, but, to me, almost a different play entirely.
Captain Film Major tends to come to the defense of adaptations. He says I expect them to bear too strong a resemblance to the book. Maybe I do. But that's because I have a very strict interpretation of the line between Based On and Inspired By. I think when you start getting jiggy with the plot, you're crossing over. He doesn't share that opinion.
For the first time, the project I'm working on was inspired by certain source material, and I chose to work closely with that material in the creation of the text. On the other hand, as the piece grew on its own, it moved away from the original source. I'd already changed most names, many motivations, a fair amount of characterization, and the ending. I think I've moved from Based On to Inspired By and, who knows, maybe even closer to Connected To (See How I Make All Those References). But that's just where the project wants to go.
How about you? Where do you draw the lines of Based On and Inspired By? Do you ever do Based On work? Inspired By?
Monday, January 17, 2011
Kids Are Different
(WARNING: Long post. For abbreviated version, skip down to the paragraph starting with the words "Okay, now that I've gone on.")
Recently, through the power of Netflix streaming, I rewatched the movie Quest for Camelot, which a voice in the back of my mind reminded me I'd once seen at a friends house at least a decade ago. Having rewatched it, I decided that aside from two nice songs, it's only got two real strong points (note: the point of this post is, actually, not to knock the movie).
Firstly, I felt that Warner Bros.'s inclusion a disabled character was, at one point, a step towards acknowledging that there are disabled people in America and saying, "Yes, even disabled people can help save their kingdom from evil." For once, we see a film breaking out of the more common Disney paradigm that the world can only be saved by ridiculously good looking, perfectly abled people (who often have bonus powers from somewhere).
Secondly, Garrett now faced some difficulties the other characters didn't (such as having to flee from a dragon -- which he couldn't see -- by jumping on rocks -- which he couldn't see -- across a pit of lava -- which he couldn't see. Thank goodness for assist birds). This made his struggles as a character all the more engaging. To be blunt,in terms of the story, it rather raised the ante on everything that he had to do. He had a harder time than the female lead, because she could see what she needed to do. Also, his experiences gave him the skills he needs to help save the kingdom. Helpful, that.
Thirdly, his experience of how he'd been treated when he lost his sight shaped his view of himself, her family, and their homeland. These factors all went into the motivations that moved him through the story and escalated the conflict. Garrett manages to both make strong points as to why he shouldn't be defined by his blindness and simultaneously define himself by it. (Oh, character angst.)
Okay, now that I've gone on and on about why Garret is definitely my favorite part of that movie, I'll circle back to my thesis. Namely, the rarity of disabled characters in books and movies. When they're included, it's generally in a "disability genre" and the books focus on being disabled instead of treating disabled characters like the abled ones.
Generally speaking, Disney -- the paragon of "kid appropriate" -- doesn't include things that it thinks will scar little kids, such as scars. Ever notice how the only characters in Disney films that maintain serious injuries throughout a flick are the bad guys?
If 18-20% of Americans are disabled, that would suggest that most kids, if they aren't disabled themselves, know or are related to a person with a disability. So would it really be traumatizing to see a disabled character in a book or movie treated the same as the other characters?
My previous works have not included a large number of disabled characters; however, I do have on character in my head with a disability, and her day will come. Disabilities are a fact of life, even in modern times, and I think it might be nice if books and movies written for kids reflected that.
What do you think? How do you feel about disabled characters in books and movies for kids? Have you ever written a disabled character?
** The title for this post derives from the song "Kids are Different," which is the theme song for the group Kids on the Block, a puppet troupe that teaches children about living with disabilities.
Recently, through the power of Netflix streaming, I rewatched the movie Quest for Camelot, which a voice in the back of my mind reminded me I'd once seen at a friends house at least a decade ago. Having rewatched it, I decided that aside from two nice songs, it's only got two real strong points (note: the point of this post is, actually, not to knock the movie).
- Cary Elwes voicing the leading guy, because, you know, he's Cary Elwes, and his voice ROCKS.
- Garrett (as voice by Cary Elwes) is blind.
Firstly, I felt that Warner Bros.'s inclusion a disabled character was, at one point, a step towards acknowledging that there are disabled people in America and saying, "Yes, even disabled people can help save their kingdom from evil." For once, we see a film breaking out of the more common Disney paradigm that the world can only be saved by ridiculously good looking, perfectly abled people (who often have bonus powers from somewhere).
Secondly, Garrett now faced some difficulties the other characters didn't (such as having to flee from a dragon -- which he couldn't see -- by jumping on rocks -- which he couldn't see -- across a pit of lava -- which he couldn't see. Thank goodness for assist birds). This made his struggles as a character all the more engaging. To be blunt,in terms of the story, it rather raised the ante on everything that he had to do. He had a harder time than the female lead, because she could see what she needed to do. Also, his experiences gave him the skills he needs to help save the kingdom. Helpful, that.
Thirdly, his experience of how he'd been treated when he lost his sight shaped his view of himself, her family, and their homeland. These factors all went into the motivations that moved him through the story and escalated the conflict. Garrett manages to both make strong points as to why he shouldn't be defined by his blindness and simultaneously define himself by it. (Oh, character angst.)
Okay, now that I've gone on and on about why Garret is definitely my favorite part of that movie, I'll circle back to my thesis. Namely, the rarity of disabled characters in books and movies. When they're included, it's generally in a "disability genre" and the books focus on being disabled instead of treating disabled characters like the abled ones.
Generally speaking, Disney -- the paragon of "kid appropriate" -- doesn't include things that it thinks will scar little kids, such as scars. Ever notice how the only characters in Disney films that maintain serious injuries throughout a flick are the bad guys?
- Ex: Scar has a scar for all of Lion King.
- Ex: Dorie's scars from the jelly fish attack only last on scene in Finding Nemo.
- Ex: Mulan. Every good guy in the movie gets seriously beat up on. Does it show? Nope. They bruise once then are magically restored. They can even regrow teeth.
- Exception: In Finding Nemo, Nemo has a bad fin, as does Gill. However, these aspects define the characters. They are not incidental aspects. They are essential aspects.
- Exception: The Hunchback of Notre Dame has a hunchbacked MC. On the other hand, that's the primary thing we learn about his character, and he still loses the girl to an abled, and ridiculously good looking (read: Disney ideal) supporting male.
If 18-20% of Americans are disabled, that would suggest that most kids, if they aren't disabled themselves, know or are related to a person with a disability. So would it really be traumatizing to see a disabled character in a book or movie treated the same as the other characters?
My previous works have not included a large number of disabled characters; however, I do have on character in my head with a disability, and her day will come. Disabilities are a fact of life, even in modern times, and I think it might be nice if books and movies written for kids reflected that.
What do you think? How do you feel about disabled characters in books and movies for kids? Have you ever written a disabled character?
** The title for this post derives from the song "Kids are Different," which is the theme song for the group Kids on the Block, a puppet troupe that teaches children about living with disabilities.
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
All the Little Pieces
The other day, Melissa commented on my post Reblocking = Rethinking that "a great story is made up of X,000 perfect words in the perfect order." At the time, I thought that was quite brilliant. Last night, my family and I were watching our collective favorite Christmas movie, Love Actually, and I realized that the reason I love that movie is that it doesn't just have one, two, or three great moments. No, it has a ton of moments where I end up saying, "Oh, I love this part," or "this is such a good moment," or "ooh, I love this bit."
The truly great stories aren't one absolutely amazing bit. They're made up of x,ooo really good moments in a succession. For one fabulous moment, I'll read the book once and occasionally pick it up and flip right to that chapter. For a ton of good moments, I'll reread the entire book over and over again, because all of it's good and all of it feels worth it.
To sum up: You don't have to create a scene that is so absolutely fantastic that people read it and go, "oh, heavens to hopscotch, I'm never going to be that good - I should just give up." It's better to have a lot of little great moments over and over again. Tiny moments that tug at heart strings or inspire smiles and laughter or make me want to read that bit aloud to a friend total up to a book that moves someone, makes someone laugh every time they read it, and they want to give it to friends. 100 one-pointers is better than 1 ten-pointer.
Thoughts? Are there stories you love that are just a lot of good moments? What are you better at, little moments or big scenes?
The truly great stories aren't one absolutely amazing bit. They're made up of x,ooo really good moments in a succession. For one fabulous moment, I'll read the book once and occasionally pick it up and flip right to that chapter. For a ton of good moments, I'll reread the entire book over and over again, because all of it's good and all of it feels worth it.
To sum up: You don't have to create a scene that is so absolutely fantastic that people read it and go, "oh, heavens to hopscotch, I'm never going to be that good - I should just give up." It's better to have a lot of little great moments over and over again. Tiny moments that tug at heart strings or inspire smiles and laughter or make me want to read that bit aloud to a friend total up to a book that moves someone, makes someone laugh every time they read it, and they want to give it to friends. 100 one-pointers is better than 1 ten-pointer.
Thoughts? Are there stories you love that are just a lot of good moments? What are you better at, little moments or big scenes?
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
October PSAs
October is National Breast Cancer Awareness Month.
One year, when I was in high school, one of the organizations put up signs that said, "Support B
reast Cancer." I think we can all realize that they meant "Support Breast Cancer Research" but really it felt like one of those occasions when the jokes made themselves. "Really," my friends and I would say, "you want to support a disease that kills millions of women? Not sure we can get behind that."
Within two years, two women I love found lumps in their breasts. They're both better now, but it's scary. It's one of those things you don't think is going to happen to you or people you know. But it can, and early detection is incredibly helpful in the treatment and cure of cancer. So get mammograms and perform regular self-screenings. (Guys who might be reading this post, this goes for you too. A Y-chromosome does not except you from breast cancer. Sorry.) Combat breast cancer!
Or, as one friend used to say, "Save the ta-tas!"
October is Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgender History Month.
While I could seize this opportunity to go discuss ad nauseum various members of the LGBT community who have done great things for history, culture, literature, etc, I won't. (Even though my love for Oscar Wilde knows few bounds). Instead, I want to link to this youtube channel.
This is the channel for the It Gets Better Project, which was started by Dan Savage and his partner Terry Miller started in memory of Billy Lucas, who committed suicide at the age of 15 because of the sexual-orientation related bullying he endured.
It want to say this to anyone on this site enduring bullying and harassment right now. Life might suck right now. I remember when life sucked in high school. Trust me, I know what that harassment looks like and sounds like, and I know what it can do to a person. I also know it gets better. I think my friends who got harassed in high school would agree with me that it gets better. You'll go out in the world, and you'll find people who love you and accept you for you are. People who can love like that do exist. You've just got to hold on until you find them. Because it gets better, and you should be there to see it.
One year, when I was in high school, one of the organizations put up signs that said, "Support B
reast Cancer." I think we can all realize that they meant "Support Breast Cancer Research" but really it felt like one of those occasions when the jokes made themselves. "Really," my friends and I would say, "you want to support a disease that kills millions of women? Not sure we can get behind that."Within two years, two women I love found lumps in their breasts. They're both better now, but it's scary. It's one of those things you don't think is going to happen to you or people you know. But it can, and early detection is incredibly helpful in the treatment and cure of cancer. So get mammograms and perform regular self-screenings. (Guys who might be reading this post, this goes for you too. A Y-chromosome does not except you from breast cancer. Sorry.) Combat breast cancer!
Or, as one friend used to say, "Save the ta-tas!"
October is Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgender History Month.
While I could seize this opportunity to go discuss ad nauseum various members of the LGBT community who have done great things for history, culture, literature, etc, I won't. (Even though my love for Oscar Wilde knows few bounds). Instead, I want to link to this youtube channel.
This is the channel for the It Gets Better Project, which was started by Dan Savage and his partner Terry Miller started in memory of Billy Lucas, who committed suicide at the age of 15 because of the sexual-orientation related bullying he endured.
It want to say this to anyone on this site enduring bullying and harassment right now. Life might suck right now. I remember when life sucked in high school. Trust me, I know what that harassment looks like and sounds like, and I know what it can do to a person. I also know it gets better. I think my friends who got harassed in high school would agree with me that it gets better. You'll go out in the world, and you'll find people who love you and accept you for you are. People who can love like that do exist. You've just got to hold on until you find them. Because it gets better, and you should be there to see it.
Monday, July 19, 2010
Ce N'est Pas Anglais!
(That's Not English!)
Every now and then, I'll be listening to a song with French lyrics or reading a book in French or something will happen and I'll start talking in French (yes, I do that, even to non-French speaks. Just ask my best friend,) and I'll get inspired.
Yep, scenes or characters or dialogue will pop into my head. The kicker: It's not in English!
Am I the only one this happens to?
I like to pretend my French is pretty good. But pretend is the important part of that sentence. Without a lengthy and in-depth dictionary, I've a tendency to get stuck on ordinary, and often necessary, words like window-blinds or carpeting, not to mention words I might reach for in conversation, like sanctimonious, and Court of Appeals. (Because, quite frankly, if I can't call someone a sanctimonious git, I don't know if I'll be able to bicker effectively, and, I'm sure, I'll one day land myself in a situation in a french speaking country when I need a Court of Appeals. It's always that place you don't know the word for you desperately need to find, isn't it?)
Now, I'm in awe of people, such as Chinua Achebe or Joseph Conrad, who wrote books in languages that are not their mother tongue. I'm impressed. I really am. But I'm not one of those people. It wouldn't take me five minutes to run into a situation where I can't find the word I want. I can see myself now beating my head on a wall thinking, 'Is there a way to say 'flaming imbecile' in French? I DON'T KNOW ENOUGH WORDS!! AAHH!!' Yes, I would lose my mind that fast. Am I alone in this?
And, sometimes, even worse, it's my English that fails me. I'll hear or read a nifty line or saying in French and think, "This doesn't work nearly so well in English." I get this feeling about song lyrics a lot. I'll love the lyrics and try to explain to someone else why it's brilliant, but the poetry seems lacking when I translate it. Maybe it's me, maybe it's English. Maybe I need a second opinion...
Sorry to ramble, but this has been nibbling at my brain for a while, and I've been wondering if anyone else has found themselves in a similar situation. Do you occasionally hear something great or think something great in one language and have trouble putting it in the language you generally use? Have you ever tried writing a novel, short story, or poetry in your non-primary language?
Every now and then, I'll be listening to a song with French lyrics or reading a book in French or something will happen and I'll start talking in French (yes, I do that, even to non-French speaks. Just ask my best friend,) and I'll get inspired.
Yep, scenes or characters or dialogue will pop into my head. The kicker: It's not in English!
Am I the only one this happens to?
I like to pretend my French is pretty good. But pretend is the important part of that sentence. Without a lengthy and in-depth dictionary, I've a tendency to get stuck on ordinary, and often necessary, words like window-blinds or carpeting, not to mention words I might reach for in conversation, like sanctimonious, and Court of Appeals. (Because, quite frankly, if I can't call someone a sanctimonious git, I don't know if I'll be able to bicker effectively, and, I'm sure, I'll one day land myself in a situation in a french speaking country when I need a Court of Appeals. It's always that place you don't know the word for you desperately need to find, isn't it?)
Now, I'm in awe of people, such as Chinua Achebe or Joseph Conrad, who wrote books in languages that are not their mother tongue. I'm impressed. I really am. But I'm not one of those people. It wouldn't take me five minutes to run into a situation where I can't find the word I want. I can see myself now beating my head on a wall thinking, 'Is there a way to say 'flaming imbecile' in French? I DON'T KNOW ENOUGH WORDS!! AAHH!!' Yes, I would lose my mind that fast. Am I alone in this?
And, sometimes, even worse, it's my English that fails me. I'll hear or read a nifty line or saying in French and think, "This doesn't work nearly so well in English." I get this feeling about song lyrics a lot. I'll love the lyrics and try to explain to someone else why it's brilliant, but the poetry seems lacking when I translate it. Maybe it's me, maybe it's English. Maybe I need a second opinion...
Sorry to ramble, but this has been nibbling at my brain for a while, and I've been wondering if anyone else has found themselves in a similar situation. Do you occasionally hear something great or think something great in one language and have trouble putting it in the language you generally use? Have you ever tried writing a novel, short story, or poetry in your non-primary language?
Monday, May 31, 2010
First Draft Happy
Okay, I have a confession to make. About a week or so ago, I was tired. Not body tired. Brain tired. Heart tired. All the spark had gone out of the writing for me, and I didn't know if I wanted to keep doing it anymore. I felt like the rewriting process was sapping my will to write. (Forgive the emo-sounding-ness there. I'm sleepy as I type this. That makes me sound emo sometimes.)
But, on Friday, I decided to shove all the other stuff that had been on the front burner onto a back burner. It could wait. I was going to bend to temptation and start writing something new. And I feel better. I feel great.
The creative juices are flowing again. I'm thinking again, feeling again, discovering new characters again, finding a new world again. It feels good to sit down with a story-problem again and figure it out instead of rooting through my notes to remember what the official answer is in accordance with the rest of the plot.
Yesterday, I sat down and sketched a rough family tree for four characters. Yesterday, I figured out that my MC didn't look anything like I'd originally thought she did. Yesterday, I got to call my villain a "total pretender to the throne" and know why that was an accurate description of him. I'm learning about my story again. I'm having fun with my story again.
To blatantly steal a line from Jack in the Shutterbox, something is right with my world and I'm loving it.
In the comments of my previous post, D.L. Hammons referred to my rough drafting right now as my happy place. I think that's the accurate. Because first drafts, I've found, always make me really happy.
Now, to blatantly steal a line from a Disney World ride that scared the living daylights out of me when the talking vulture automaton said it: Everyone has a happy place. Maybe this is yours.
Yep, this might be mine. What's yours?
But, on Friday, I decided to shove all the other stuff that had been on the front burner onto a back burner. It could wait. I was going to bend to temptation and start writing something new. And I feel better. I feel great.
The creative juices are flowing again. I'm thinking again, feeling again, discovering new characters again, finding a new world again. It feels good to sit down with a story-problem again and figure it out instead of rooting through my notes to remember what the official answer is in accordance with the rest of the plot.
Yesterday, I sat down and sketched a rough family tree for four characters. Yesterday, I figured out that my MC didn't look anything like I'd originally thought she did. Yesterday, I got to call my villain a "total pretender to the throne" and know why that was an accurate description of him. I'm learning about my story again. I'm having fun with my story again.
To blatantly steal a line from Jack in the Shutterbox, something is right with my world and I'm loving it.
In the comments of my previous post, D.L. Hammons referred to my rough drafting right now as my happy place. I think that's the accurate. Because first drafts, I've found, always make me really happy.
Now, to blatantly steal a line from a Disney World ride that scared the living daylights out of me when the talking vulture automaton said it: Everyone has a happy place. Maybe this is yours.
Yep, this might be mine. What's yours?
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Pulling the Pieces Together
You ever get the feeling where you're looking for something and you know it's there somewhere but you can't quite get your hands on it but instead keep grabbing a similar yet not quite right thing? (I know there were a lot of conjunctions in that sentence, but that was the only way I could really describe my thought process at the moment.)
It's sort of how I feel right now about ideas.
See, I know I don't have the right to be getting distracted by pretty ideas. I'm working on The Thief Book right now, and I need to focus on that and not loose focus. Especially not to toss that focus over onto some gossamer whisper and breath of an idea.
But that's what's toying with me right now, the whisp of an idea.
I don't know quite what set it off, but somehow my mind came to the conclusion that it could fit together these scraps of idea that I had lying around and turn them into a full idea. Seriously, I don't know what brought this on, but now my mental self is scavenging around my head for these bits and pieces that I know are in there somewhere. The only problem is, I haven't the foggiest where I left them.
I do, however, keep finding other scraps. Ones that are similar to the ones I want but not quite. It's like looking for a pair of black high heels. (Sorry, male readers, I'm about to embark on an analogy to something you've probably never experienced, though probably witnessed.) Most girls, I've discovered, own more than one pair of black high heels. And, lots of girls, I've discovered, own shoes that, to me, look a lot alike. (But that's probably because I'm not a shoe person.)
Anyway, when you're looking for a pair of black shoes and keep finding the wrong pair of black shoes, the close but no cigar sort of black shoes. It's a little frustrating, and it's a tad confusing, if you're uncovering a bunch of stuff you didn't know was also down there, or up there, or wherever you keep your shoes.
I'm reverting from the shoe analogy and the scraps of cloth analogy to the actual world. I'm still sort of kicking this idea around in my mind. I want to get it into something a little more cohesive and ... congealed is really the only word to describe this mental picture, but I doubt it's a pretty visual in anyone else's mind. Anyway, I'm trying to pull the whole deal together in my mind before I put it down in the newly formed Big Book of Ideas. (Okay, since it's newly formed, it's just the Average Sized -- okay Teeny Tiny -- Book of Ideas.)
How do you pull your ideas together? Do you ever have a problem trying to find an idea you have a while ago? What's your though process like?
It's sort of how I feel right now about ideas.
See, I know I don't have the right to be getting distracted by pretty ideas. I'm working on The Thief Book right now, and I need to focus on that and not loose focus. Especially not to toss that focus over onto some gossamer whisper and breath of an idea.
But that's what's toying with me right now, the whisp of an idea.
I don't know quite what set it off, but somehow my mind came to the conclusion that it could fit together these scraps of idea that I had lying around and turn them into a full idea. Seriously, I don't know what brought this on, but now my mental self is scavenging around my head for these bits and pieces that I know are in there somewhere. The only problem is, I haven't the foggiest where I left them.
I do, however, keep finding other scraps. Ones that are similar to the ones I want but not quite. It's like looking for a pair of black high heels. (Sorry, male readers, I'm about to embark on an analogy to something you've probably never experienced, though probably witnessed.) Most girls, I've discovered, own more than one pair of black high heels. And, lots of girls, I've discovered, own shoes that, to me, look a lot alike. (But that's probably because I'm not a shoe person.)
Anyway, when you're looking for a pair of black shoes and keep finding the wrong pair of black shoes, the close but no cigar sort of black shoes. It's a little frustrating, and it's a tad confusing, if you're uncovering a bunch of stuff you didn't know was also down there, or up there, or wherever you keep your shoes.
I'm reverting from the shoe analogy and the scraps of cloth analogy to the actual world. I'm still sort of kicking this idea around in my mind. I want to get it into something a little more cohesive and ... congealed is really the only word to describe this mental picture, but I doubt it's a pretty visual in anyone else's mind. Anyway, I'm trying to pull the whole deal together in my mind before I put it down in the newly formed Big Book of Ideas. (Okay, since it's newly formed, it's just the Average Sized -- okay Teeny Tiny -- Book of Ideas.)
How do you pull your ideas together? Do you ever have a problem trying to find an idea you have a while ago? What's your though process like?
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Food for Thought
Last night, as I was eating dinner, I started chewing over an idea in my head. Part of me wants to start clickety-clakety-ing out this new project before I've even gotten the last one day. It's the masochist in me.
But, the side of my that likes to pretend it's rational urged me to at least make sure I know what's supposed to be coming in the story before it comes. And that's when it hit me: I don't know how it ends.
Well, no, I know already the basis of the story, and I know I want a HEA-esque ending. And there's a way that happens for this story. But I realized I didn't know the key event that takes you from the beginning part of the story to the end part of it. I knew what the hinge ought to be, but I didn't know what it was.
I ended up thinking about it for an hour and still not quite working it out. I've got some ideas that might come into a point. However, I don't think I've had the idea yet. So, more thinking over dinner for me, I guess.
Have you realized all of a sudden that your ideas aren't all where you thought they were? What'd you do about it?
But, the side of my that likes to pretend it's rational urged me to at least make sure I know what's supposed to be coming in the story before it comes. And that's when it hit me: I don't know how it ends.
Well, no, I know already the basis of the story, and I know I want a HEA-esque ending. And there's a way that happens for this story. But I realized I didn't know the key event that takes you from the beginning part of the story to the end part of it. I knew what the hinge ought to be, but I didn't know what it was.
I ended up thinking about it for an hour and still not quite working it out. I've got some ideas that might come into a point. However, I don't think I've had the idea yet. So, more thinking over dinner for me, I guess.
Have you realized all of a sudden that your ideas aren't all where you thought they were? What'd you do about it?
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