metteharrison

what revision is and isn't

Thu, 03 Jul 2008 21:07:39 GMT

I know, I post on revision a lot, but since I'm a writer, I do a lot of it, so I think about it a lot. What I thought about this weekend at ALA, while working on the copyedits to THE PRINCESS AND THE BEAR (Yeah!), was that the copyedit stage is what most beginning authors think of when they think about revision.

Change a sentence here and there. Add a paragraph maybe every twenty pages or so. Think about whether there should be a comma there. Check to make sure that names of characters remain the same throughout the book, and that generally, things are consistent (with other books in a series, or just within the one book), and that you don't look like an idiot when this gets published because you said "sword" when you meant "saber."

This is not revision.

Revision is a re-envisioning of the whole book. Revision is cutting out twenty pages in one fell swoop. It is sometimes starting over from scratch with only an idea, a character name, and if you're lucky, the realization that THIS is what you really want to write about.

Revision is figuring out the proper order of chapters. It is figuring out where to begin your story and which threads still need to be tied up. Revision is understanding--finally--what your magic system is really like. It is seeing that one main character has no arc of development, and that you will need to add that in, all two hundred pages of it.

Revision is not for wimps. When people say that writing is really rewriting, this is what they mean. It's not on the sentence level. And it makes all the difference between a book that your readers will read once and forget and will want to read again and again over the years (I hope!).

Revision, to use a sports metaphor, is going out and doing a half marathon one day, and then doing it again the next day--better. And doing that every day you can stand it for the next six months.

My copyedit looks like a disaster to a non-professional, with red, green, blue, and black pencil all arguing over a comma or a phrase. But really, it is just the last step. It is beautiful, the perfect run on the perfect day. Or as perfect as it gets.

ALA 2008

Thu, 03 Jul 2008 00:15:06 GMT

The weirdest moment of all:

Seeing Brian Selznick waiting in MY line, for MY book. (He was with his nephew.) I just kept thinking, this was upside down world. He could NOT been in my line, since I was supposed to be in line (only he hadn't had one yet).

I loved his speech. It made me think a lot about what I want to do with the time that I have to be a writer, if I want to keep writing the way that I am now, or try to do something that no one has ever done before. And it also made me think that how impossible it would be to try to write again after winning an award like that--all that pressure!

Another funny moment:

Shannon Hale collapsing onto one knee when she realized that she had just been introduced to Karen (Joy--yes that one!) Fowler.

Also:
Susan Beth Pfeffer telling me she read my blog. Like Brian Selznick, this just seemed wrong. I am the fan girl of her books, so she can't possibly know who I am.

Nancy Werlin had read my book!

Being invited to the American Indian Youth Literature Awards by Tim Tingle author of CROSSING BOK CHITTO, who I had just gone to lunch with. And then getting called into the intertribal dance (I'm sure because of my very vivid yellow, orange, and red dress).

Lunch with Linda Sue Park, where she told me she might just know how to get me a chance to do some translation work from German children's books. That would be incredibly cool!

Someone asking me if my agent actually represented every single children's author there, since he was always surrounded by a crowd.

Thank goodness plenty of other people didn't know me from any of the librarians, since they probably wouldn't have given me so many free books.

Stupid moment of the trip:

Franny Billingsely introduced me to her illustrator, Brian Karas who asked what I wrote and I said, "Very bad picture books."

Glad to be home, with kids just as excited to get books as gifts as I am. And a husband who took care of everything while I was gone.

Books Read in July 2008

Thu, 03 Jul 2008 00:06:36 GMT

Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction August 2008
Realms of Fantasy August 2008
Years Best SF 13 by David Hartwell and Kathryn Cramer
Years Best Fantasy 8 by David Hartwell and Kathryn Cramer
Keeper of Dreams by Orson Scott Card
Mr. Darcy’s Diary by Amanda Grange
Letters from Pemberley by Jane Dawkins
Good Neighbors by Holly Black

ALA

Wed, 25 Jun 2008 19:40:05 GMT

For those who will be at ALA in Anaheim, I will be arriving Friday night and staying until Tuesday morning. I will be signing at the Harper Booth (#1000) on Sunday from 1:00-1:30 p.m. And hopefully, having loads of fun.

I have never been to a big book conference like this before. I keep thinking, what do I wear? What if I say something really, really stupid? And what if I have something stuck to my teeth and no one wants to tell me because it is so very, very funny?

This is why I am going with a group of author-friends, who will hopefully save me from all that and also our plan is to write several books together on the drive down and back.

your best book

Tue, 24 Jun 2008 14:33:06 GMT

I wrote a big-name author when I was first starting out, mostly as a fan. I had a complaint about a particular novel that I didn't like, though I loved her others. She told me that she felt she could only write one spectacular book a year and that the others tended to be more pedestrian, but in order to stay on readers' minds, she wrote it anyway and surprisingly found that some readers preferred those kinds of books.

Another thing she told me was that she felt that she had already published her best book ever. It wasn't a book that had been her best-selling, though it won a few awards. She poured into it a lot of herself, in code, from a difficult personal time in her life that she hoped never to go through again. Anyway, she said she felt it was hard as a writer to keep going, knowing that you'll never write a book that good again.

When I read this, I was devastated, looking forward in my life and thinking that I would reach a point in my career where I would know that my best work was in the past. Only now I think that's a bunch of hooey. Every writer thinks that one of their previous books was better than the one they're working on now. Every writer gets too sucked into the fabulous critical reviews of one particular book. But--it isn't true.

You would never tell someone you loved one of your children better because that child happened to make more money, would you? I don't think it's fair to do it with your books, either. Which isn't to say that you can't be critical of yourself. You can. (Though I don't recommend saying it out loud to readers.) You can feel like you worked harder on a certain book and it came out better. But the solution to this? Work hard on every book. Give it everything you can.

As a reader, I loved the book the author thought of as her best, but I think she wrote a better one the following year (her off year) and I think she has written several better ones since.

One thing I do think would be difficult is getting a lot of critical acclaim on your first book, maybe before you started your second, and not feeling able to keep going and getting better. But you will get better. Or if you don't like that, you will write new things just as well. You will write them as they are meant to be written, and how can you ask of yourself any more than that?

"old" TV

Mon, 23 Jun 2008 19:11:00 GMT

The last year, my husband and I have used our blockbuster online to get some old TV shows and make our kids watch them. We've seen a couple episodes of The Incredible Hulk, MASH,and most recently, Gilligan's Island.

Yes, they are dated. No, they are not as good as we remembered them being. But it was still fun to share these cultural references with our kids. As my husband pointed out how similar Gilligan was to Scooby, one of my kids said, Hey--they stole that. No, dear, the other way around. And a favorite family quote: Don't make me angry, Mr. Magee. You won't like me when I'm angry.

Some TV shows I have no intention of sharing, though I watched them all the time as a kid:
Charlie's Angels
The Love Boat
Fantasy Island
Three's Company
Hart to Hart
Falcon Crest
General Hospital
All My Children
MacGyver
T.J. Hooker
The Fall Guy

Maybe:
The Greatest American Hero (I loved that show and was so sad to see it go off the air)
Star Trek
The original Battlestar Galactica
Buck Rogers
Monty Python
Saturday Night Live (with Steve Martin--they have never seen him do the "Tut")
Spenser

"You can beat her"

Mon, 23 Jun 2008 02:26:57 GMT

OK, another race weekend. This time I got to race with my husband. Not such a good swim for me, possibly because the water was a lot warmer. But on the happy side, I got to see my husband in transition and then, because there were a lot of loops, on most of the run.

I was in second place coming off the bike, just had a great bike race, and then got passed by three women on the run, so I came in fifth overall, first in my age group (the not quite old ladies).

The lesson (I guess there has to be a lesson in every race) for me happened in the last 100 meters. I felt like I had sped up the last mile, going from 8:10 miles to about 7:45. But then I heard someone cheering behind me. This person shouted out, "Go on, sprint it--you can beat her!" I thought I had already given everything I had to the race and there was no way I could go faster, but at that moment, I discovered that I had something inside me that would not let that woman pass.

We crossed the finish line at almost exactly the same moment. I looked down and saw our legs at the same time, but I think I put my left leg with the timing chip across first and she put her right leg across, so I beat her officially by .1 seconds. Turns out she wasn't in my age group and it didn't really matter, but it was a challenge and I love a challenge.

I wonder if maybe that person who cheered those words regrets it? Probably not. She made us both go faster than I thought possible. I think the last 100 meters were an all out below 6:00 mile pace. And then I got to eat food and wait until my husband crossed and I started shivering which I always do because I sweat a lot, more than my husband. Unfortunately, I sweated off my sunscreen and got burned.

food is for eating

Fri, 20 Jun 2008 19:38:14 GMT

I had a friend tell me about growing up with an anorexic mother and living with fear of being overweight through childhood, young adulthood and beyond. It made me so angry! I am paranoid about my daughters (or sons, for that matter) deciding that their body is not good enough as it is, that they should torture it into some twisted ideal of thin perfection by refusing to eat (or any other method of choice).

Food is for eating, people! Your body is made to be a particular shape and to serve a particular function. You must give it food to feed that. Protein, carbs, fat--they all give your body energy. Energy is a good thing to have. Really!

If you want to change your lifestyle and be healthier, I'm all for that. But being thin is not the same as being healthy. In fact, it is often the opposite.

Also, just as a side note here--if you dread exercise, you are doing something wrong. Probably you are pushing yourself too hard. You should be taking it easier, at least most of the time. You should feel good after you exercise, not so tired that you can't bear the thought of going back to the gym or getting on your bike again. Save a TV show to watch if you're getting bored, or go outside and go on a walk. Do something that makes you happy, and you will do it again.

I am not a doctor. I'm sure there are exceptions to what I think of as rules, but mostly when I see people who are not eating healthily, it is because they are always going on and off "a diet" that makes it impossible to sustain human life or because they are choosing a form of exercise that isn't fun for them.

Boy, that soapbox is in the nosebleed section, isn't it? I think I'll head down now. It may take a while.

friends from elementary school

Thu, 19 Jun 2008 15:30:10 GMT

Garrett (the boy I had a crush on in sixth grade)
Brent (the one who drew amazingly well--I thought it perfectly fair that I write papers for him, since those were easy for me. And no fair that society chose to value my skills above his.)
Kristin (who gave me her hand-me-downs and then "recognized" them on the playground)
Lisa (whose father sold diamonds)
Jenni (my cousin who lost her eye while delivering newspapers on a bike by a railroad track)
Toni (best friend in fourth grade--we competed in all things academic, until she moved away the end of that year).
Maren (best friend from fifth grade to tenth grade, when I went to Germany)
Chris (who won the contest for the smallest legible handwriting in fourth grade--I was jealous of him because he was popular and smart. It seemed that you should only be one or the other--I knew I was.)
Jared (the kid who was fat and then became a gorgeous high school football star)
Julianne (whose mom told her she had bird legs, and I thought it was a compliment for years afterwards)
Alison (the stuck-up girl who grew up to be a model)
Jodi (best friend from second grade whose parents taught me to like the smell of cigarette smoke)
The other Lisa (who had two sisters next to her in age, both beautiful, but not so smart)
Mark (brother of Jared and he annoyed me to no end)
Natalie (who was adopted along with ten other kids in her family--she was my inspiration for THE MONSTER IN ME).

20 year high school reunion is next week. It makes me feel old, and also good, in a way. A time for remembering . . .

asked to dance

Wed, 18 Jun 2008 20:35:40 GMT

I went to a writers' party last night and everyone was assigned to bring either a dessert or a healthier snack. But then they set up three tables (writers are not good at math, I suppose). One table had snacks, one had desserts, and the last one had two desserts and a bowl of pistachios.

As I sat staring at the desserts, trying to pick between them, I felt transported back to high school stag dances, where I congregated with my friends, trying not to look too forlorn that I had not been asked to dance (No, it was not acceptable back then to just start dancing with friends). I looked at the desserts and it seemed they were all girls waiting to be asked to dance, but some had been passed by, unattractive, and then there were the two desserts on the other table, not even noticed.

I had to bring them all together, cut into all of them and take tiny little tastes, just so that none would feel left out.

I feel the same way when I go shopping. Things speak to me.

I remember in grad school I was reading a Marxist theorist (I think Adorno) who wrote about how people are "called to" by objects in the marketplace, though they don't actually need them. They want "the new," or they want some intangible that is promised to them by advertisement, like how Coke is supposed to be "the real thing," but then when you buy the thing and consume it, what you wanted is gone and you have to buy it again.

Anyway, I feel kind of panicked when I go shopping because I can't pick between all the nice things that are there. They are loudly calling to me, pick me, pick me! Ooh! Ooh! Pick me! And I feel so mean not picking all of them. Because, like the desserts, they seem like girls not being asked to dance--and I remember how that feels.

I have lately solved this problem by buying a huge variety, schlepping them all home and then trying them on there in my own home mirror, where they tend to get quiet and just let me see how *I* look in them.

I am sure this hyper-identification is sign of some serious mental illness. Either that, or it means I am a good writer--take your pick.

character study questions

Tue, 17 Jun 2008 18:46:50 GMT

I know, everyone does these character studies, but I have never done one. Never, on any book. I have actually prided myself on not doing this kind of prewriting, and always winging it. But the book I am working on is making me think about how much my writing sucks, and maybe this is just an excuse to not do the writing and maybe it really is going to help me towards understanding a character who is rather elusive, but here they are:

What happened to his mother?
Does he have siblings or extended family?
What is life like in his village?
Does he have any crushes?
What hurts him?
Who has he hurt?
What does he want?
What does he hate?
What are his skills?
What can he do that no one else can?
How well does he know himself?
What objects does he value?
How much does he care about appearance?
Who is his hero?
Who cares for him that he does not notice?
What lessons in life has he learned that are the most important?
What does he think it means to be human?
What is his trophy or talisman?
What games does he play?
What does he dream of?
What can he make with his hands?
What is the most beautiful thing he has ever seen?
When does he weep? Where? What does it sound like?
What old scars does he wear?
What has he lost?
What safe place does he go to (even if only in his mind)?
What does he think of himself? What value does he see in his own life?
What frightens him?
What are his handicaps?
What can he never do?
Where was he born and how does he celebrate his birthday?
What/who would he die to protect?
What smells good to him?
What legends or myths have shaped his life?

I think these are rather different than the standard list of questions like height, weight, eye color, most embarrassing moment, and so on. Maybe these only apply to this particular story, but maybe not. Use as you will.

race report--part 2

Mon, 16 Jun 2008 19:38:45 GMT

The coolest things about the race this weekend?

When I saw very late in the race a man crossing the finish line who weighed maybe 350 pounds. What an amazing feat of determination!

The guy who crossed the race with broken ribs wasn’t too bad, either.

And the woman who took the prize for the fastest swim time only—not a tiny athletic looking woman. She was probably 6 feet and she had a womanly figure. You would not expect a world class time from this person, but that’s the problem with our society. We think there is only one body type that is perfect, and we superimpose that on everyone. But different kinds of bodies do different things well. There are women who are shot putters. They do not look like skinny models. And swimmers, the best ones, have fat on them to make them buoyant.

I also loved that afterwards, as I lay down on my back in the shaded tent area, all the pros gathered around me, along with the race director, and I got to hear them chat about triathlon as a sport. This has never happened to me, where I felt so much like I was a real athlete, not just a hobbyist. Not that anyone knew who I was, not that their times were much like mine. But they’d been in the same water, on the same bike course, on the same run.

And for the first time ever, I did better than my goal time by about 7 minutes. I am working on setting more appropriate goals for myself, so that I am not always disappointed. I see my 14 year-old doing exactly the same thing as me (she set a goal this year to get 100%--on everything, in every class, and she wasn't always satisfied with that!).

race report

Mon, 16 Jun 2008 02:07:40 GMT

This weekend I did the Battle at Midway Triathlon, which is the only real event I've ever done in Utah that had professionals racing alongside me. It was also the hardest course I have ever done.

First was the swim. The water temperature was 56 F. I like cold water. I really do. But this was too cold, even for me, even with a full wetsuit. I told myself the whole time that this was the hardest part of the race, that I just had to get out on my bike and I would be fine.

I was wrong.

The hardest part of the race was when I stood up in the water and had to use my frozen feet to jump/run across rocks at the water's edge, then on grass still frosty. My feet burned with the weight of my body. I fumbled with my wetsuit, trying to get it off and get onto my bike, trying to put on shoes, gloves, sunglasses (ha!) and a helmet.

The funny thing is that I was blinded in the water by the rising sun, literally could not see where I was going for the last half of the race and ended up coming out on the wrong half of the beach, but once on the bike, we were in shadow. The whole bike, 25 miles. 25 miles of in-city turning where the cones were set out so close to the sidewalks that even the pros complained it was the most technical course they had ever done (this means you have to go very slowly every time you turn in order not to fall off your bike--which one guy did, and finished the race anyway, with his broken ribs.)

I could not feel my feet the entire bike. You'd think this would be an advantage. It was not. I could feel my legs, just not my feet. It was like biking with ice rocks on the end of my legs. I did not get sensation back in my feet until 25 minutes into the run.

The run was the craziest thing I have ever seen. It was at Soldier Hollow, which was the Olympic venue in 2002. Beautiful, if you could look up, which I couldn't because the course was through grass that had not been mown very well. The hills up come 4 or 5 a mile, and they were steeper than I have ever done before. Downhill was just as bad, with me wondering at times if I was going to fall, if I should slow to make sre i was safe. There were also occasional sand traps to watch out for. I started very slow, then as one woman who was in my age group came past me about mile 4, I decided to keep up with her and then I passed her as I found I had some kick the last mile.

I crossed the finish line and immediately started freezing again. They were handing out packs of ice, which was pretty funny, if you ask me. Also pizza. Frankly, I wish they'd had bagels, which is the standard post-race food. I also wished they had Gatorade. They had Heed instead, Hammer Gel's drink. So, so awful. Surely no one buys this. They just give it away at races they support.

I didn't really hurt until 12 hours later, when I was home and trying to sleep that night. I did get 1st place in my age group. And go figure--my fastest ever swim time. So maybe it wasn't too cold, after all? Or everyone else just hurt more than I did in the weather.

I beat a bunch of women who usually beat me, and since I am over-competitive this somehow matters to me. Though I biked 8 hours last Friday and Saturday and didn't taper properly, this may have been my best race.

I think I might actually be getting better at saving my best day for a race instead of using it up in a workout.

romance quotes

Fri, 13 Jun 2008 14:23:22 GMT

Some favorite quotes from romances:

"I cannot be wise. Emma, I must tell you what you will not ask though I may wish it unsaid the next moment."

Knightley, from EMMA

I love this because Knightley shows how he has changed. Change to me is the main ingredient of romance. Knightley, who has been so staid and frozen throughout, so proper, allows himself to be overcome with passion and say what he feels.

"I stopped you ungraciously just now, Mr. Knightley, and, I am afraid, gave you pain. But if you have any wish to speak openly to me as a friend or to ask my opinion of anything that you may have in contemplation--as a friend, indeed, you may command me. I will hear whatever you like. I will tell you exactly what I think."

Emma

Again, this shows the change in Emma, who made the horrible mistake with Ms. Bates at the garden party, making fun of an old friend. Though she has no hope here of gaining Mr. Knightley's love, she cannot bear to hurt him. I love this change in her, despite my other problems with the book.

"Perhaps we might be deceived."

Elizabeth, from PRIDE AND PREJUDICE

This is Elizabeth willing to give up her prejudice against Darcy at last, seeing herself in a bad light rather than Darcy. Changing to be a better person by accepting that she has made a terrible mistake.

"If you will thank me, let it be for yourself alone. . . Your family owe me nothing. Much as I respect them, I believe, I thought only of you."

Darcy from PRIDE AND PREJUDICE

Darcy helps Lydia, despite what must be horrible distaste for the situation she has gotten into, not to mention the man she is with, because he cannot bear to give Elizabeth pain. I think one of the main characteristics of a good romance is the essential, deep goodness of the main characters. They make mistakes, but not out of pettiness. They do the best they can.

And I realize, of course, that the plot of EMMA works at least partly around jealousy (Emma's for Harriet, and Mr. Knightley's for Frank Churchill) and that the plot of PRIDE AND PREJUDICE centers around a misunderstanding (that Darcy has treated Wickham badly).

But I think these are devices and not truly the main problems/obstacles in the stories. EMMA is really about Emma growing up and Mr. Knightley accepting her as an equal. PRIDE AND PREJUDICE is really about the differences in position between Darcy and Elizabeth.

Can you tell I am working on the third book in the Princess series?

romance

Thu, 12 Jun 2008 19:33:59 GMT

Two common elements of romance are:

1. jealousy
2. misunderstanding

These are both typically used as obstacles to the happy ending of the romance. While I think that obstacles are absolutely necessary to a good romance, and I usually like a happy ending, I don't often use these two elements.

Why? Besides the fact that I don't find either particularly romantic, I think they are cheap, fake obstacles. The jealousy is always unfounded (because we wouldn't sympathize with the characters if it wasn't) and a misunderstanding that goes on for a long time is just stupid and one that doesn't is solved simply by communication and where is the superb writing in that?

I was reflecting on the Arthur romance, which I have read many incarnations of, including Nancy McKenzie's, where Lancelot and Guinevere never actually commit adultery. Still, I often find myself annoyed with the Guinevere character frequently because of the way she uses her power over these two men to pit them against each other when they were friends to begin with. (I know! I know! Victorian sensibilities judging medieval ones.) She should never let Lancelot keep thinking she might one day love him. She should cut him off, be mean to him and let him find someone else to truly love. I really think I would admire that more in her, though of course you would have to make it real--and that's not the Arthur story.

As I was reading a recent bestseller in the YA fantasy/romance field, I was reminded of this same storyline and was annoyed for the same reason. There's nothing very admirable in a woman who wants to keep two men on the line. Really, there isn't.

What obstacles do I think work better?

1. Mistakes (not including hitting or otherwise abusing the one you claim to love--mistakes of experience or knowledge but not of character)
2. Secrets (the kind that take great courage to tell)
3. Romeo/Juliet-like social differences (by which I mean real, deadly ones)

I read a lot of romances in my time. I spent all week reading deep novels by Thomas Mann in German (ones that were not even assigned!) and then on the weekends, I would read ten romances as a break. I learned a lot about what I didn't find romantic this way, and that I was apparently different from most other women who did. (Gifts, for example, don't do it for me. I'm not interested in jewelry, shoes, makeup, chocolate or flowers. Books, on the other hand, maybe.)

the more you know . . .

Wed, 11 Jun 2008 14:22:09 GMT

I read an article recently about a study done on people who were in the lowest twenty percent of the bell curve and how they saw themselves. It turns out that most of them think they are above average. The study went on to say that the reason for this is that they lacked the very skills necessary for them to see the reality of their ignorance. As they were tutored in these skills, they became more accurate in their self-assessment. They still weren't above average; they just saw truly that they were below average. To them, it might seem in some way as if they were getting stupider as they got smarter.

This relates to my point yesterday, I think. There's the old saying, the more you know, the more you realize you don't know, but people always say it in a flip way. It's actually pretty painful that the goal you set for yourself (getting published, for example), seems to get further and further out of your reach the more you work towards it, because you have this stupid optimism to begin with and an inability to assess how bad your work is. Then you get better and see how crappy you are and your improvement in ability doesn't keep pace with your newfound critical eye.

It's one of the reasons that almost all of slush pile queries are bad. The good writers are ones who see their work more clearly and are less likely to think that it will just get picked up because of their brilliance. They tend to ask friends to look at it, go to conferences to get it critiqued, get an agent's viewpoint, before sending it to an editor. It's not just about the connections; it's about the fact that the better a writer is, the more cautious s/he is about letting other people see a manuscript. They are so hard on themselves, they don't need someone else to be hard on them.

writing and yoga

Tue, 10 Jun 2008 19:13:45 GMT

I remember in grad school, we had a meeting with all the post-comprehensives students and the professors. This was mainly to give us all a good kick into starting to actually write our dissertations. Not talk about them. Not write notes for them. Not do research. Not hide from them. Actually sit down and type out some words that had something to do with our topic.

One professor got up and told us about how hard he found it to write. He got sick every day when it was time to go into his office and close the door, but he did it anyway. Because that was his job. And it was our job, too, was his point. If we ever wanted a job, that is.

I thought this professor was insane. Why would you become a professor and hate writing? Why would you continue to do something that made you sick every day? Why not do something that you enjoyed?

I was smug because I wrote easily. I never had a fear of it. I might be afraid of turning a paper into a professor for a grade, but the actual writing was easy. I didn't have an editor on my shoulder who told me my writing was crap. I wrote whatever popped into my head. I let my professors be my editors. (They did not like this, by the way. I was frequently asked if I ever looked over my papers before I turned them in. But I still got good grades, because I was so brilliant--that's what I thought. I felt no need to develop an editor in my head.)

Now I am me. I do not get sick, but I do not find writing relaxing in the way that it used to me. I don't just sit down and type as fast as I can. That editor in my head is really loud. I tell myself this just means that I am a better writer now and I hope, hope, hope it is true.

I think that writing may be like yoga. When I first started doing yoga, I also found it very easy to do. I didn't try to push myself into doing difficult poses. I breathed deeply, but I can't say I was really meditating. I felt good afterwards, but not like I had really accomplished something. I wasn't a professional, in a sense. I was just there trying it out, not even an amateur. I was experimenting.

I find yoga more difficult now because I try to go more deeply into it, physically and mentally. It is hard work. Afterwards, when it works, I feel ecstatic and light as air. But it happens less often, and I am less satisfied with the more surface level state I find when it is not a good day. I am not a yoga professional, but I am serious about it. It matters to me, and I suppose when anything matters, you feel more pressure.

Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom

Mon, 09 Jun 2008 20:23:36 GMT

I wanted to take my kids to the new Indiana Jones movie. I have had a crush on Harrison Ford since I was twelve and saw Return of the Jedi for the first time (and the second time, and the third, and so on). But first, I thought we would watch the other Indiana Jones movies. Only, we watched Raiders and then I skipped to Last Crusade because I love it so much, and then I was stuck with Doom. I remembered not liking it and thinking it was gruesome.

It was worse than I remembered. So, so bad. How can Harrison Ford be so bad? I sat through it, trying to make notes on what not to do when writing a story. Problem #1: Kate Capshaw's character is completely unlikeable to begin with and is never redeemed. All she does is scream well. She never gets good lines, and the romance between her and Indiana Jones is at best laughable and at worse, disgusting. (Why would Jones want her--is he that desperate?) All the good parts went to Shorty, the funny sidekick which seemed to be transported from George Lucas's Star Wars movies (just as stupid there, by the way).

Also, the whole story revolved around people so evil that they were incomprehensible. Somehow even the Nazis in Raiders had a certain admirable tenaciousness or love of archeology. Nothing here.

But there was another flaw that I saw only on watching it carefully. The tricks kept getting used twice, and I'm sure that didn't happen in the other two movies. Some examples: the raft that falls out of the plane and then lands (safely) already stretches our disbelief too far. But then the raft falls again over this giant cliff and into the rapids. Couldn't the writers think of some other danger to put Indiana into that was more clever than a repeat of the first? Apparently not, because they do it again and again. Kate Capshaw is lowered into the fire not once, but twice. And then the device of the Indiana Jones doll is used twice, without any explanation. The massive wall of water flowing towards them in one tunnel is repeated when they turn into the second tunnel.

It all adds up to feeling like the movie is way too long because we're seeing everything twice, and we didn't like it all that much the first time around.

writing and triathlon

Fri, 06 Jun 2008 19:49:49 GMT

More than one person has told me that I "must" write a book with triathlon in it, since I know it so well and because it is so interesting. For some reason, I have never had even the slightest twinge of an urge to do this. The closest thing is the beginning of a manuscript about a swimmer, maybe because I was a swimmer in high school and triathlon is entirely part of my adult life. Also, as a teenager I was so convinced I was not athletic that there is still a part of me that feels like my success in triathlon is a dream.

But then I read a very interesting letter to the editor in Runner's World Magazine. It was from a woman whose husband had been in a bad car accident. His leg had been crushed and they had saved it, but he couldn't run on it anymore. He'd tried and tried and it just had been damaged beyond that use. So, after reading an article on Oscar Pistorius and his success running with prosthetics (he sued to be allowed to go to the Olympics, and won!), the man decided to have his leg amputated. His wife was so happy, I guess because he wouldn't be in pain anymore.

There had to be a story in there somewhere, I thought. There had been this article on how unfair it was for Pistorius to be in the Olympics, supposedly because prosthetics were so much more "efficient" than real legs. (To which I say, uh--so why is it that no one with prosthetics has ever actually competed in the Olympics?) Then Runner's World sort of apologized and explained that one thing the article on efficiency had left out was the whole issue of pain, and how much pain management an athlete had to have to run on prosthetics.

What if there was no pain? What if in the future prosthetics are what people want? What if people voluntarily get their legs amputated so they can be faster and better athletes? Thus began a short story about the doctor who is asked to amputate a perfectly healthy leg on a boy who just wants to compete with the other kids with prosthetics. And what does he do with the leg afterward?

SYTYCD

Thu, 05 Jun 2008 15:00:12 GMT

I really enjoyed Wednesday night's story about the two friends, Yessi who had been to Las Vegas last year, and lost 50 pounds, but had a knee injury, and her male friend who had also gone to tryouts last year but Nigel told him he was "too one-dimensional." This was maybe still an obvious story, friends trying to make it big together, one has to go on alone, and it was a little over the top at the end, watching Yessi limp out of the theater. But the emotion on the faces of the two of them was very real.

I loved Yessi telling Nigel that last year, in Las Vegas, it was the first time in her life that she felt like people saw past her weight to what was inside, that people believed in her. And it changed her life. I loved how the guy friend could quote Nigel back to him. Those words had made that much difference in his life.

I also was interested in the people who were able to beg their way into the choreography round and those who weren't. There was one guy I thought was pretty good, but he had an arrogance that Mary could not stand. And then the girl with the orange hair and outrageous outfit who was bubbly, but not necessarily arrogant. She didn't get past choreography; no one thought she would. But it was a chance for her to see what she needed to be able to do, and the judges were willing to give that to someone who was humble enough to accept it.

No means no

Wed, 04 Jun 2008 19:37:53 GMT

Boy, these rejection letters keep coming in. This time, I got a form letter saying simply "your story does not meet our needs." Five years ago, when I got letters like this, they drove me crazy. I wanted an essay on why my story wasn't good enough. I poured over the form letter, counted the time since I sent in my manuscript, and tried to figure out if I thought it had been read or not at all.

But sometimes, I think it just means what it says. Not your story had a bad beginning and we never read past page one. Not you have a lousy sense of humor and you should only write dark fantasy. Not you should give up writing. Not you missed a comma on page four, and after that I assumed you did not know any grammar rules. It just means your story didn't fit their needs and there wasn't anything else to say.

Maybe it was because your name isn't big enough to draw readers in. Maybe it wasn't the right genre because they already bought five stories in that genre for the next issue and they're not looking for more. They were courteous enough to send it back and let you send it elsewhere instead of keeping it for ten months and deciding then. Those are all valid reasons for saying no, thank you.

No just means send it on to someone else. That's all.

summer

Tue, 03 Jun 2008 14:46:01 GMT

Email is out.
School is out.

It is the beginning of summer, and who knows what work I will get done? I'm aiming for a couple hours a day at the computer, in between my workouts in preparation for the Half Ironman in August and the 200 mile bike ride in September, #4's swim lessons in the a.m., #2's piano, cello and voice lessons scattered in the a.m. throughout the week, #2's swim team workouts in the evening, #3's scout activities, #1's Buffy mania (my own fault, I know), and #5's tendency to be injured, along with breakfast, lunch, dinner, dishes, laundry, and so on.

I did take the summer off on piano lessons. I feel slightly guilty about this, because I know I will lose some of what I have gained, but it seemed that something had to go, and perhaps because of the recital where my hands were shaking so badly I could hardly find the keys last week, I decided it would be piano.

If I get a book read here and there, it will be just short of a miracle.

I always sort of worry about summer, but when it ends, I am sad not to be spending so much time with the kids anymore.

Books Read in May 2008

Fri, 30 May 2008 21:07:42 GMT

The Adoration of Jenna Fox by Mary Pearson
Dragon Flight by Jessica Day George
July/August 2008 issue of Analog
General Winston’s Daughter by Sharon Shinn
Such a Pretty Girl by Laura Wiess
The Host by Stephenie Meyer
Weighed in the Balance by Anne Perry
July 2008 issue of Asimov’s Science Fiction
The Year’s Best Science Fiction 24th Annual Collection by Gardner Dozois
Ghosts Who Went to School by Judith Spearling
The Secret Life of a Teenage Siren by Wendy Tolliver
Sweethearts by Sara Zarr
Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction July 2008
The Diary of a Wimpy Kid: Rodrick Rules by Jeff Kinney
The dead and the gone by Susan Beth Pfeffer
Cicada Summer by Andrea Beaty
Ever by Gail Carson Levine
The Safe-Keeper’s Secret by Sharon Shinn

"cute" rejections

Fri, 30 May 2008 18:56:49 GMT

More rejection letters for short stories! One editor wrote that this story was "cute." That is not one of my favorite words. Nigel called someone "a cutie patootie" on SYTYCD the first night and I felt myself become a little annoyed at the word. To me, it means someone who is short and squeaky and somehow insignificant, but harmless and with an agreeable face, kind of like a Teddy bear. I have no problem with people describing me as "short," but "cute" I hate. So I hate it for my stories, too.

Of course, this editor can have no idea what my size is, but I feel like the term is somehow similar for stories. That they are insignificant and small, harmless and agreeable, but without the deeper, weighty meaning that a story needs. Or something.

On the other hand, if she just said they weren't literary enough or not interesting or had a theme that was overdone, I would just move on and not worry about it. Because my story is what I want it to be. I just don't want it to be given that word, "cute."

Season 4--SYTYCD

Thu, 29 May 2008 15:31:16 GMT

I really enjoy watching So You Think You Can Dance. More than American Idol, maybe because the hype is less, but also because I think the judges are better. I don't think that Nigel is the "mean British" judge type that Simon Cowell seems to be seen as. And I love the fact that real, actual choreographers sit in as judges on other choreographers, and then trade off. Maybe that seems incestuous to some, but it makes me feel like the judges know what they're talking about. They each have their own style they love, but they judge other styles.

They don't play favorites, either. I think last season they really tried to give a chance to Cedric, but he couldn't do other styles. And they don't pretend that they're looking for the best dancer. Only the best dancer for a particular use, which is one who can do everything well. (I was annoyed last year when clean-cut Mormon Benji showed up at the beginning and dropped his pants. I don't know if the producers knew he was planning that. Probably they did.)

Sometimes the show focuses too much on weirdos (and reappearing ones at that). I don't like it when American Idol does that, either. I keep thinking that the writers on both shows (and there surely are some) are not doing their job. They're telling the easy, bizarre stories instead of making a story out of the ordinary lives that will be changed by this competition. There's something to be learned in that for me, as a writer, too. For me, the greatest part of a fantasy isn't the cool magic system or the amazing creature invented. It's the story of ordinary lives changed by an event. As simple--and as difficult--as that.