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Arguments about "spoilers" are [SPOILER ALERT!] tedious and annoying, and nobody who feels strongly about such things one way or the other will ever convince the fanatics people on the other side to agree with them, so such arguments are a huge waste of time and energy, and I have vowed [SPOILER ALERT!] to stay out of them for ever and ever and evermore, but now the film scholar David Bordwell has gone and made a fascinating blog post about [SPOILER ALERT!] how spoiler standards have changed and shifted over time and in various circumstances. Very much worth reading.

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You know when you put something off so long that the problem solves itself? And by that I mean, melds with another problem so you just have one big problem? I meant to do a little post about my newly revamped website, and also to post on this poor, dusty blog more than once every six weeks.

In any case, I made a new front page image, based on that earlier painting and folding in illustration with design:


I'm super happy with how he came out, and have been circling the piece since, trying to figure out how to build off of it.

Okay, first problem/thing I procrastinated about solved! The other thing I wanted to talk about went live yesterday.

I have a new story in Twist Collective!

I've taken to describing this assignment as Illustrator Bait. It's a three-part narrative with a lonely peasant girl and magic and hand lettering and knitting. Take a look, but kindly click on the above link to see the pieces in context and read Daryl Brower's lovely story:








What was especially nice about this job was how smoothly I worked, compared to the last story I did for Twist Collective. Straight out of school, I was so nervous about messing up the paintings that I worked them half to death. I also managed to schedule a three-day interview the week before they were due, so I was both panicked and exhausted. On the (very) plus side, my fee for that job and the money I made selling the paintings paid for first, last, and deposit on the apartment I'm still living in today.

Alright, posting completed! In a fit of productive procrastination, I also reinvigorated my Etsy shop (yes, again), so the paintings are for sale there, among posters, notebooks, and cards. As usual, tell your rich friends.

Until next time (October?)!

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I ran across a blog the other day that set me to wondering. Heaven knows it doesn’t take much sometimes, but this time was different because it concerned narration.

One of the things that has bugged me about that subject in the past several years is how the term is used. I remember the term”‘narration” as meaning a specific type of writing. The writing centered on the author telling a story from his/her own perspective, though not as one of the major players in the story.

Those types of stories are sometimes hard to find nowadays. At least they’re hard for ne to find. There are other types of narration to consider.

Probably one of the most famous narrative novels was “The Great Gatsby.” It was most definitely written through the eyes of a major player. It’s lure, at least for me, was the fact that while we saw the whole story through the narrator’s eyes, we also saw only memory. It acted as a memoir(fictional, of course,) novel, and commentary all rolled into one neat package for consumption.

At the other end of the spectrum is omniscience; also a type  of narrative which comes from the viewpoint of the cosmos telling the story to whoever will listen. Personally, I thoroughly enjoy this type because I get to know each major player in the story on a personal level through their thoughts.

When I was reading Laura Page’s blog about narrative, http://literarylegs.blogspot.com/2011/07/perfect-narrator-with-imperfections.html, I realized that I’ve been narrow in my view of the term and its use. Oh, I probably  already knew about my personal prejudice toward expanded definitions for the term. I admit to being in denial about encroaching changes in word usage.

Her discussion of narrative, however, allowed me view my own relationship with that writing technique. She spoke about characters with flaws that humanize them and make them more attractive. Now I’m wondering about all of those characters that have held me in thrall for so many years.

The late Janet Kagan drew characters that will live in my memory forever. Her SF book “Mirabile” is a study in how to write funny, memorable, and carry a reader to a place you want to live. Did the main character/narrator have flaws. I suppose she did, but they were so well woven into the stories she told that the reader would be hard pressed to pluck them out.

Elizabeth Moon’s “Deeds of Paksenarrion” is a framed series of books that follow  a young warrior through her trials to become a paladin and her first quest. Paks had plenty of flaws and she struggled with them on the pages, flaunting them before the reader so that all could witness her struggles and find strength within themselves to fight the good fight.

Whether light humor and mystery are on the plate with such writers as Susan Albert Whittig and the late Lillian Jackson Braun or an epic such as Jordan’s “Wheel of Time” series, some genres lend themselves naturally to flawed main characters that grab your by the throat and refuse to let go. Grisham and Patterson, too,  create characters that stick with the reader.

Literary novels, oddly enough, seem to hold a different kind of following and expectation. “To Kill a Mockingbird,” for instance, asks the reader to sit in a courtroom and witness drama unfold toward an end that, in many ways, satisfies no one but leaves the flavor of characters and story forever imprinted in one’s forebrain. The imperfections, as Laura calls them, come in both the setting, circumstances, social commentary, and the characters. A writer just can’t get more sweeping that in 296 pages.

I am learning to stretch my definitions and expectations of term usage. I know. It’s taken me long enough. It’s that Midwestern training I had so long ago. I’ve had to reframe my use of word poem this week, too. That experience left me ripe for this.

So, whatever fare

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Polonius: What do you read, my lord?

Hamlet: Words, words, words.

– William Shakespeare, “Hamlet,” Act 2, Scene 2

And so we come to #5 in Jane Yolen’s wonderful list of “10 Words Every Picture Book Author Must Know,” which she shared at the SCBWI Winter Conference a few weeks ago: Words.

Here are the three things Jane said about words – and I shall elaborate a bit on each.

1.  Pick them as carefully as a poet – Language is a fundamental part of children’s literature. Word play, rhythm, alliteration, parallelism, refrain, patterns, echoes, onomatopoeia – it’s all about being imaginative and creative with words.  Personification can be effective too – for instance, instead of “the leaves rustled in the breeze,” you might try, “the leaves whispered,” or “the leaves danced.”  Children’s imaginations are often fired by their senses, so incorporating what can be seen, smelled, tasted, heard, or felt to the touch is a powerful way to engage young readers in descriptive narrative.

Above all, look for juicy verbs.  Verbs are a writer’s best friend. They keep the story moving forward, and help us to show through behavior and action rather than tell through description.  Be as creative as you can be in your use of verbs. Keep a list of favorites – and always keep a Thesaurus handy to find better options for the ones that are common, tired, or overused.  Finally, remember that it’s all about economy with picture books. Three words, artfully chosen, will achieve far more than ten general, rambling ones.

2. Children love big words – don’t ‘dumb down’ your language. While we have to keep the age of our reader in mind in terms of what will engage and be relevant to them, we should never talk down to them.  Their focus may be narrow and their vocabulary limited, but their brains are like sponges, expanding with every drop of information we give them.  Using a sophisticated word here and there invites children to ‘stretch up.’ Whether they infer the meaning through association or context – using the surrounding words to understand the meaning of that one – or whether they pause to ask a grown up what a word means, once that meaning is absorbed it becomes part of the ever-expanding vocabulary and is unlikely to be forgotten.

3.  Words can be made up – just do so with care. Harry Potter, Winnie the Pooh, The Hobbit and virtually every book by Dr. Seuss all contain made-up words unique to their worlds and characters.  Shakespeare, in fact, made up thousands of words and phrases that have since become part of our everyday language. Most education scholars and child development specialists would agree that the creative use of words helps a young reader appreciate the power of expression. In seeing the rules of language being bent or challenged, children learn critical-thinking skills and develop their own imaginations. It’s important, however, to use this tool with care. Don’t overdo it, and make sure that if you are using invented words, their intended meaning can be clearly inferred by the reader.

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Don’t waste all those free narratives right at your fingertips. They’re just waiting for you to weave them into a story.

Here’s how it goes:

1) First, cut and paste a screenful of status updates from your friends into your word processing program.

2) Then, get rid of all but the juiciest, most interesting ones.

3) Imagine a storyline in which these updates belong to your protagonist. Example below.

Names have been changed to protect the innocent, and permissions have been granted to publish these.

Here’s what I started with:

Ted Johnson might need some tequila. Some debt collecting agency calls me several times a day, looking for various Johnsons who don’t exist here. Today they are insisting my name must be Tequila Johnson.

Holly Schuster is up and operating off of 3 hours of sleep…but I got most of my work done…will be crashing this afternoon, for sure!

Tyler Hall talked for a long time with both of my sisters tonight, cried at a sad story on Biggest Loser, and baked a cake: what great (and free) therapy after a tiring day!

Samantha Rivera is making blueberry muffins and drinking coffee through a straw!!! (Yes, still!)

Here’s the beginning of my story:

She was up and operating after only 3 hours of sleep, having talked for a long time with both of her sisters  the night before. They couldn’t tell her what to do about the collections agency calling several times a day, looking for Stan.  What she felt like drinking was tequila, but the only thing at the office was stale coffee, cool enough to drink through a straw.

*This is a jumping off point to get your brain running—–not a suggestion to fictionalize your friends’ lives. Use more status updates to keep your story going, if you need them. Get writing!

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When to use Narrative and when to use Scenes

Join us on Facebook for a discussion of scenes.
This is the great Show-Don’t-Tell debate. When should you take the time in a story to present a fully developed scene?

To understand this, let’s look at options.

Scene. First, is the fully developed scene that we discussed in SCENE 2.

Narrative summary. For a narrative summary, you leave out many of the details and just briefly tell events. This feels like someone just giving you highlights and may not include all the elements of a scene. It’s just getting you from scene to scene, while making sure you don’t miss anything important. It’s TELLING. So, don’t use it often. But when you want to compress the time line, skip briefly over events or speed up things, use a narrative summary.

Transitions. Another section of text might be a quick transition. It may have action, dialogue, thought or emotion, but it’s purpose is to get you from point A to point B. Often it’s narrative summary, but it can be much shorter. For example, you might start a follow-up scene like this: “Later, she went. . . “ Later is the transition and it’s a single word.

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Featured Today in Fiction Notes Stores

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Narrative summary and transition are important in moving a story forward. Well-developed scenes, though, are the meat of the story and where you’ll camp. You need all of these in your tool box, but you need to know when to pull out which.

It's Here.

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I have been in a lot of different writing workshops lately. Just this week I’ve been in 13 writing workshops and have met with 13 different teachers in either reflective practice meetings or planning meetings. Therefore, I have SO MUCH I want to record. Which leads me to my current dilemma: what do I not [...]

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"Show, don't tell" is probably the most common advice given to writers. But that's not the whole story.

I've been thinking a lot about this issue in the past weeks. It came up in both large and small ways in a number of the critiques I've done for other writers recently, and it was flagged in my manuscript by a couple of the writers in my wonderful new critique group. I started thinking about researching my thoughts and doing a blog post, but serendipidously, several of the blog's I regularly read posted articles on the subject last week. Michael Bourret described how he has been seeing a lot of manuscripts that aren't engaging or engrossing because of too much telling. Mary Kole had a post on "Good Telling" based on an essay she received from Melissa Koosmann, one of her blog readers. The Plot Whisperer (Martha Alderson) also had a great post on how people may hide strong emotions.

So I'm going to tell you what I think. And I want to know what you think. Tell me if you agree or disagree, and let me know how much you think style, skill, POV, and genre fall into the equation.

First, there's a difference between narrative and scene, and each has its role in a novel.

• A scene takes place in real time, in an idenfied location, and it involves action and/or dialogue between characters. By definition, a scene is "show." It engages the reader, engrosses them, and makes them feel connected to what the characters are feeling.  
• Narrative summary describes--"tells" about--action or an event, but doesn't show it. Just as you would have a hard time selling a manuscript that's all narrative, you would have a hard time getting a reader to enjoy a book that is all nonstop action. As readers, we need time to breathe and absorb. Narrative serves that purpose.

For me, deciding whether something should go into scene is part of planning the novel, and it comes down to issues of tension and pacing. If you think you need a scene, here are a few questions to ask yourself:

• Is the event or information significant enough to the story to warrant a full scene?
• Does it move the story forward?
• Does it lead the character toward a turning point or plot point, preferably both, that you want the reader to remember andn experience along with the character?
• Are the events action or reaction? In other words, is something happening, or are the characters making decisions based on something that has already happened?
• If it is action, does it directly impact the POV character and are you giving her an opportunity to react to it?
• Is there identifiable conflict between two characters, between what your main character wants and what she needs, or preferably both?
• Are you providing important information that a reader is likely to skim over, misunderstand, or not care about in narrative form? Remember, the reader doesn't know what you know -- that it's important.

If the answer to any of those questions is affirmative, then you probably don't want to put information into narrative. This goes double for plot devices such as memories, monologues, and so forth. Flashbacks and visions, well-crafted and used sparingly, may work as scenes, but bear in mind that you have to give characters time to react to them. They work best at turning points in your story, the same way that backstory is ideal at turning points, where information is placed in context of past and present combining to help the character make a decision that will lead to resolution an

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My latest Strange Horizons column has just been posted, and it's a sort of meditation on four books: Reality Hunger by David Shields, Narrative Power edited by L. Timmel Duchamp, Who Fears Death by Nnedi Okorafor, and Vanishing Point by Ander Monson.

All four books are well worth reading, thinking about, arguing with. I especially hope that in the wake of Paul Di Filippo's review of Who Fears Death in the B&N Review that the column will offer an alternative way of evaluating the novel. For the way Di Filippo read the book, I think his assessment is valid, but he read it in the most narrow and silly way possible, the way someone who's only ever read science fiction would read. And I know he hasn't only read science fiction, so I'm perplexed at the assumptions he applies. I agree with his desire for fewer savior of the world/universe/everything characters, and in fact once wrote another SH column about it, but I think there's abundant evidence in the text that Okorafor is a smart writer who is as aware of this paradigm as anybody else, and is both using and critiquing it in complex, multi-layered ways, just as she is simultaneously using and critiquing other tropes, tendencies, templates -- not all of them from SF -- throughout the novel.

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I just finished writing a long review for Rain Taxi of Nnedi Okorafor's Who Fears Death, and it's one of those rare books that I just want to recommend to everybody.  It's going to the top of my list of really good science fiction/fantasy novels that can be safely given to people who think they don't like SF, but it's also a book that can be appreciated both by people who merely want to read an engaging story and people who want more than just a good story. 

I had so much fun writing a review of Who Fears Death because it is, among other things, very much a book about textuality and storytelling -- about how the stories we tell, the words we use, the structures and vantage points we select, affect our perception of the world.  I kept thinking of some of M. John Harrison's books and the way they throw our readerly expectations and habits back in our face.  Some of the pleasure, though, in reading Harrison is masochistic ("Yes, master, flog me again for my desire for fantasy!"), but the effect of Who Fears Death is very different, despite the many horrific events experienced or observed by the characters, because its view of fantasy is more generous -- the world is, it seems to say, made up of stories.  They're how we understand things.  So be careful in the stories you tell and the stories you listen to, but don't give up on myth and legend and fantasy.  (In that, it's more Barry Lopez than M. John Harrison, really.)

Though the review I just sent off is 1,500 words, I felt like I could have gone on at twice that length, and I fear what I wrote is too general.  I didn't even find a way to write about the epigraph from Patrice Lumumba that opens the book ("Dear friends, are you afraid of death?") -- one of the fascinating things about the novel is how it uses fantasy in a kind of dialogic approach to reality, thus illuminating both.  For instance, part of the story uses a quest structure with echoes of Lord of the Rings (including a giant eye of evil) to critique both the good/evil dichotomy of so much epic fantasy and the good/evil thinking that fuels massacres and genocide in our own world.  The stories we tell ourselves are not innocent -- they affect how we behave toward each other, and Who Fears Death shows that vividly.  It's also about other types of fantasy -- for instance, the common one that the Harry Potter books so effectively exploited wherein nerdy or awkward folks become the saviors of the universe.  Typically, once they've saved the universe, those characters go on to have great lives in the epilogues of their books.  It doesn't really give too much away to say that Who Fears Death is smarter than that about what heroism and fate can demand, while also recognizing that stories, to be useful, may need to answer some of the ambiguities more common to life than fiction.  Just because there are lots of lies in legends and myths doesn't mean we don't need them or that they don't tell truths about life; we just need to be careful in how and why we choose to keep telling them.

The method of the novel's telling will probably not obsess ordinary readers the way it did me, because I'm always obsessed with the 1 Comments on In Which I Exhort You to Read Who Fears Death by Nnedi Okorafor, last added: 6/3/2010