Time for another political post. When I started this blog, I was writing about politics every other post, and now I can go months without visiting the subject. Part of the reason is, I gave my opinions early on about the big debates that never go away in politics--abortion, death penalty, gay rights, global warming, health care--and my opinions haven't altered much, so why repeat myself? This is why I could never be a talk show host or pundit. I have the potential to grow bored with repeating myself, while people like Rush Limbaugh make a living by essentially offering the same opinions day after day after day.
But, of course, the real people who have to repeat themselves well past the point that any normal person would grow insane are politicians, and especially presidential candidates. Obama, Clinton, McCain, and the dozen others already forgotten all had a stump speech that they had to deliver a hundred times or more. I can only imagine there's a point where it passes into surreality for them, where it starts to feel like the movie Groundhog Day, where the hero is trapped in living the same day over and over.
Which leads me to a few opinions on some recent candidate scandals that just don't seem all that scandalous to me:
1. Snipergate: Hillary got caught lying. A flat-out, no holds barred, no debate possible lie. She tells an exciting story about running for the cars under sniper fire; video of the event shows her walking off the plane and getting handed flowers. And I've now read pundits who say that this and other lies point to serious personality defects, and possible mental illness. But, this is nonsense. Ordinary people do stuff like this all the time. We routinely exagerate and embellish stories on retelling. A two pound shark caught in the surf at Myrtle Beach grows over time to a twenty pound shark caught in Cuba by reaching into the water and grabbing its tailfin and yanking it into the boat. Well, perhaps I exagerate about the degree which stories get exagerated. But, still, I sometimes listen to stories my friends tell, or to stories my family tell, or even stories that I tell, and find myself marveling at how the stories where I thought I knew what the fairly mundane facts were become, over the course of years, much more gripping and compelling tales with a few edits. Hillary isn't mentally ill for embellishing her story. She is, however, dumb as a rock not to know that someone was going to drag out the videotape.
2. Preachergate: So Obama was friends for twenty years with a crazy, racist fanatic. He sat in the pews, he took his kids to hear the lunitic, he publicy praised the man. Now, a segment of the population is outraged--OUTRAGED!--by Obama's failure to denounce this fool. But, look, just chill, okay? I'm not going to judge any man by the words of another man. I thought it was classless for Obama to drag his grandmother into this debate, but I know what he meant. You have people in your life you grow close to that say things that embarass you, but you stick by them anyway because a person is more than just the five minutes of videotape of the most shocking things they said over twenty years. I was once closely associated with a person who, from time to time, would say things in public that just made me cringe. I'm going to be very careful here; I'm not even going to identify this person by gender--which means I'm going to use the gramatical consruction "they" to refer to them, sorry--I don't have their permission to talk about them, and I don't want to hold a friend up to public scorn. But, this person used to complain loudly about people who were trying to take the confederate flag down from public places. "It's our heritage!" they'd argue. Yeah, I'd think, a heritage of slavery and radical Christianity. If you ever read the constitution that the CFA intended to operate other, you would want to take up arms and fight for the Union, because it absolutely did NOT guarantee religious freedom, but instead stated bluntly that the CFA would be Christian. My friend wasn't a Christian, so revering the Confederate flag made no sense to me whatsoever. I was also baffled by claims of reverse racism. White people were discriminated against in the workplace. It's the law of the land! Doesn't anyone care about the plight of the poor white person? To which I would argue, if you're a white person in America and you can't go out and do whatever you want to do with your life, it's not the government that's holding you back. Take a quick glance at any place where powerful people gather--oh my god! White people! I don't care what the law of the land is: if you can't achieve your life goals here in America today, you aren't going to make it tomorrow if the supreme court suddenly waves its magic wand and POOF, affirmative action vanishes. (For the record, I don't think this is only true of white people... no matter what your skin color or gender, the real obstacles to most people's advancement are internal, not external.)
So, I knew someone who was racist in my judgment. Did I kick them to the curb as some sort of inhuman scum? No. Because this was, like, 1% of thier total personality. And, honestly, unless you listened to them when they got onto this subject, you would never have known. It wasn't like in thier daily life they were going around shouting racial epithats. I honestly don't think on an individual level they cared what color their friends, coworkers, dentists or presidents were.
If we had to go through this world rejecting the friendship of everyone who holds a politically incorrect or politically unpopular opinion, we'd all live very lonely lives. If anything, this preachergate scandal made me like Obama more. He could have pulled the full Judas and abandoned his preacher to the angry mobs. But he stood by a friend--I admire that.
3: Century-gate: So, a popular line of attack about McCain lately is that he's advocating the US being in Iraq for 100 years. Shocking just shocking. But, we've been in Japan and Germany for well over half a century. We have a history of not bringing out boys back home once we've fought a war. Still a century is a bit extreme, isn't it? Nope. We fought the Spanish-American War all the way back in 1898. We set up a little base in Cuba at a place called Guantanamo Bay. And guess where we still have troops stationed 110 years later? America is the house-guest that doesn't know when to leave. A century from now while we're still in Iraq, I'm guessing we'll be past the bicentenial for our occupation of Cuba. Of course, these bases are of vital strategic importance. If we hadn't had a long term presense in Cuba, lord knows what could have happened. The whole island could have gone communist if not for our vigilance!
Saturday, March 29, 2008
Monday, March 24, 2008
Getting through the Mushy Middle
Codexwriters.com is currently having a novelwriting contest. One of the cool elements of the contest is that the writers earn "badges" as they make progress. They get a badge for writing more than 2000 words in a day, for instance, or if they make it 3 weeks in a row completing a chapter a week. I'm not taking part in the contest, but looking over the rules, I got badge envy! And the badge that really resonated with me was one for pushing on through the "Mushy Middle."
The Mushy Middle is something almost all novelists have faced. I've been involved with critique groups and networking with other writers since the mid-nineties, and the experience seems to be a familiar one. It's easy to start a novel, and get three or five or seven chapters into it. Then, frequently, the whole thing bogs down. The initial enthusiasm for the project wanes as some of the realities of writing a book begin to hit home. The first reality is, books don't write themselves. If you're a beginning novelist, this frequently comes as a shock. I was like many novice novelists years ago, writing mainly when I was inspired to write. Inspiration can carry you through early chapters. But, inspiration as an intellectual state is fleeting. If you can hold on to the feeling for more than a few hours you're lucky. Some folks can hold onto inspiration for weeks, perhaps. But, it seldom lasts the duration of a full scale novel, which can't be written in weeks, but is instead a project lasting months, even years. At some point, enthusiasm fades on any project, and this is where many beginning writers falter. I, personally, can't count how many novels I started in the 1990's only to abandon them in the quicksands of the Mushy Middles.
Yet, I eventually learned to get past them. I haven't quite yet reached the point of learning to revel in the Mushy Middles, but perhaps that day will come. In the meantime, I have two primary tools that carry me through.
The main thing that helps me get through the mushy middle is a deadline. The mushy middle is why my first three novels were all multi-year projects. I'd start them, then lose interest. Then, a few months later, I'd get an idea on what to do next in the abandoned novel, and return to the project, write a few more chapters, then lose interest again. I consider myself very fortunate to have completed one book, let alone three, using this start and stop method. On my fourth novel, Nobody Gets the Girl, I set myself a very firm 45 day deadline to write the first draft of whole book. I was active with the Odyssey critique group back then, so I set it up as a challenge with a few other participants, then posted almost daily updates of my progress. (The challenge came in early November 2000 that we would all complete a fresh novel before the "real" new millinium of January 1, 2001.) Since I had put out the challenge, and since a score or more people were following my progress, I felt like I had no choice but to slog on when I hit the sections where I was completely lost. And I discovered something interesting: Even though I felt like I was writing meandering, disjointed crap at the time, when I finally read the book a year later I discovered that some of my most random chapters were actually pretty good. (I wrote with the motto "never look back," so I never reread the chapters as I produced them.) There's a chapter five or six chapters into the book where I remember being completely stuck. I'm writing a superhero novel, with all these plot twists and hidden revelations and high stakes battles, and suddenly my mental batteries were all drained and I had no clue what these people and all their fantastic powers were supposed to do next. So, I had them go to the mall to go shopping. Only, instead of actually shopping, one of them uses her superpowers to steal stuff, trivial things like cinimon buns. When I wrote it, I was pretty positive my novel had run completely off the tracks. Now, I look at it as a great character building scene.
Dragonforge went the same way. All the teen chapters were written in the complete absense of inspiration. I spent months certain that my writing career was over, because unlike Nobody, this book was already slated for publication on a set date. I worried thousands of readers would read hit those chapters and just abandon the book, and never read me again. After the first draft, I still wasn't fully happy with those chapters... but, luckily, I had a second draft! A do-over. So I did a lot of them over. Then, after my wise-readers, I got to do them over again, and by draft three I was happy with the middle of my book.
So far my experience has been that plowing on even when my imagination is empty and my clever meter is sitting on zero always produces fruitful results. One of two things always happens:
1: I write something good while thinking I'm writing drivel.There's a scene in Dragonforge where Graxen and Nadala, two young dragons who are attracted to each other, meet in secret because the plot required them to meet each other again and fall in love at this point in the book. I had no clue what they were supposed to say to each other. In my outline, I had imagined I'd have Graxen spout romantic dialogue worthy of Romeo and Juliet, but instead when I reached the scene, all that came out was awkward, choppy dialogue. I slogged through, certain I'd throw it out later and write something better. But, when I went back on draft two, the awkward, choppy dialogue between the two characters felt exactly right, conveying thier true feelings better than the flowery, Hallmark card dialogue I thought I needed to make the scene come to life. Sometimes, writing when I'm not feeling clever manages to produce some of my most honest and heartfelt writing.
2. I write drivel while I think I'm writing drivel. Fortunately, drivel on the page is much, much better than nothing on the page. I can edit drivel. I can twist and tweak it, I can chop it out completely and write what I should have written, or I can discover that, while the scene I wrote might not be great literature, with a little polish and elbow grease it becomes perfectly functional prose. It moves the characters from point A to point B, or it has them pick up a plot key they need to put into a plot lock. While the dream is for every page in one of my novels to be brilliant prose that must have secretly flowed from an angel's pen, the reality is that sometimes good enough is good enough. As long as the story moves forward, I'm confident the reader will stay with me.
So, my two secrets for getting through are deadlines, even arbitrary ones, and experience. I've learned after completing seven novels that the Mushy Middles can be overcome just by sitting down and typing, and sitting down and typing, and sitting down and typing again, until you've finally slogged through them.
The Mushy Middle is something almost all novelists have faced. I've been involved with critique groups and networking with other writers since the mid-nineties, and the experience seems to be a familiar one. It's easy to start a novel, and get three or five or seven chapters into it. Then, frequently, the whole thing bogs down. The initial enthusiasm for the project wanes as some of the realities of writing a book begin to hit home. The first reality is, books don't write themselves. If you're a beginning novelist, this frequently comes as a shock. I was like many novice novelists years ago, writing mainly when I was inspired to write. Inspiration can carry you through early chapters. But, inspiration as an intellectual state is fleeting. If you can hold on to the feeling for more than a few hours you're lucky. Some folks can hold onto inspiration for weeks, perhaps. But, it seldom lasts the duration of a full scale novel, which can't be written in weeks, but is instead a project lasting months, even years. At some point, enthusiasm fades on any project, and this is where many beginning writers falter. I, personally, can't count how many novels I started in the 1990's only to abandon them in the quicksands of the Mushy Middles.
Yet, I eventually learned to get past them. I haven't quite yet reached the point of learning to revel in the Mushy Middles, but perhaps that day will come. In the meantime, I have two primary tools that carry me through.
The main thing that helps me get through the mushy middle is a deadline. The mushy middle is why my first three novels were all multi-year projects. I'd start them, then lose interest. Then, a few months later, I'd get an idea on what to do next in the abandoned novel, and return to the project, write a few more chapters, then lose interest again. I consider myself very fortunate to have completed one book, let alone three, using this start and stop method. On my fourth novel, Nobody Gets the Girl, I set myself a very firm 45 day deadline to write the first draft of whole book. I was active with the Odyssey critique group back then, so I set it up as a challenge with a few other participants, then posted almost daily updates of my progress. (The challenge came in early November 2000 that we would all complete a fresh novel before the "real" new millinium of January 1, 2001.) Since I had put out the challenge, and since a score or more people were following my progress, I felt like I had no choice but to slog on when I hit the sections where I was completely lost. And I discovered something interesting: Even though I felt like I was writing meandering, disjointed crap at the time, when I finally read the book a year later I discovered that some of my most random chapters were actually pretty good. (I wrote with the motto "never look back," so I never reread the chapters as I produced them.) There's a chapter five or six chapters into the book where I remember being completely stuck. I'm writing a superhero novel, with all these plot twists and hidden revelations and high stakes battles, and suddenly my mental batteries were all drained and I had no clue what these people and all their fantastic powers were supposed to do next. So, I had them go to the mall to go shopping. Only, instead of actually shopping, one of them uses her superpowers to steal stuff, trivial things like cinimon buns. When I wrote it, I was pretty positive my novel had run completely off the tracks. Now, I look at it as a great character building scene.
Dragonforge went the same way. All the teen chapters were written in the complete absense of inspiration. I spent months certain that my writing career was over, because unlike Nobody, this book was already slated for publication on a set date. I worried thousands of readers would read hit those chapters and just abandon the book, and never read me again. After the first draft, I still wasn't fully happy with those chapters... but, luckily, I had a second draft! A do-over. So I did a lot of them over. Then, after my wise-readers, I got to do them over again, and by draft three I was happy with the middle of my book.
So far my experience has been that plowing on even when my imagination is empty and my clever meter is sitting on zero always produces fruitful results. One of two things always happens:
1: I write something good while thinking I'm writing drivel.There's a scene in Dragonforge where Graxen and Nadala, two young dragons who are attracted to each other, meet in secret because the plot required them to meet each other again and fall in love at this point in the book. I had no clue what they were supposed to say to each other. In my outline, I had imagined I'd have Graxen spout romantic dialogue worthy of Romeo and Juliet, but instead when I reached the scene, all that came out was awkward, choppy dialogue. I slogged through, certain I'd throw it out later and write something better. But, when I went back on draft two, the awkward, choppy dialogue between the two characters felt exactly right, conveying thier true feelings better than the flowery, Hallmark card dialogue I thought I needed to make the scene come to life. Sometimes, writing when I'm not feeling clever manages to produce some of my most honest and heartfelt writing.
2. I write drivel while I think I'm writing drivel. Fortunately, drivel on the page is much, much better than nothing on the page. I can edit drivel. I can twist and tweak it, I can chop it out completely and write what I should have written, or I can discover that, while the scene I wrote might not be great literature, with a little polish and elbow grease it becomes perfectly functional prose. It moves the characters from point A to point B, or it has them pick up a plot key they need to put into a plot lock. While the dream is for every page in one of my novels to be brilliant prose that must have secretly flowed from an angel's pen, the reality is that sometimes good enough is good enough. As long as the story moves forward, I'm confident the reader will stay with me.
So, my two secrets for getting through are deadlines, even arbitrary ones, and experience. I've learned after completing seven novels that the Mushy Middles can be overcome just by sitting down and typing, and sitting down and typing, and sitting down and typing again, until you've finally slogged through them.
Saturday, March 15, 2008
A God Paradox
I was reading in Discover some theories that might make it possible to explore the question of what existed before the Big Bang. There are three models that I won't get into to any great degree here, mainly because, I'll confess, I can follow high level theoretical physics only to a certain degree and then I admit, I honestly don't have a clue what's being discussed. As I science fiction writer, I only have to understand them enough to present higher level physics in a plausible way to readers who have no idea whether I'm right or wrong in what I'm talking about. One of the theories plays into the Bitterwood books--it's the notion that there's a higher dimensional space that an infinite number of universes float through. From time to time, these universes smash into each other in the higher dimension and the energy generated from the collision produces a big bang that forms a new universe. There are two upsides to this theory. First, it means that universes exists as part of an endless cycle of creation and recreation--the big bang isn't a beginning, just part of an ongoing process. The amazing thing about this theory, unlike a zillion other "before the universe began" theories, is that it's testable. If our universe was generated by the collision of other universes, the theory predits gravity waves that would still be detectable. We don't yet have the technology to detect gravity waves (which are also predicted by relativity), but this is mainly an engineering problem and one day we will, and can confirm or refute the evidence for this theory. A third upside to the theory is that I can play with this higher dimension "outside" of space by calling it "underspace" and letting my characters travel through it in fiction. I'm sure any competent scientist can explain why this is an absurd premise, but they can write their own novels.
The article introduced the idea of what happened before the Big Bang by discussing a monk who asks his monk-boss (this probably isn't the actual title the church uses), "What was God doing before he created the earth?" The monk-boss answers, "Designing hell for those who ask too many questions." This reminded me of a paradox that used to bug me when I was a kid in church.
If I asked how long God had been around, I was assured it was forever. God's timeline was infinite, stretching into forever both forward and backward. But, this creates a paradox: How long did God wait before he created the world? Forever. Which is the mental equivilent of saying he never got around to creating the world. You can imagine how this provided a certain level of consternation to me when I was ten.
Of course, the same paradox exists in the colliding universe theory... how much time passed before they collided? Eternity. But, with the colliding universe theory, new worlds are being made all the time, for no reason at all, just random collisions. With the God theory, nothing but God existed forever, then he made a planet and a universe for it to float in, then he's going to destroy it all and everyone will live forever in heaven or hell. So, there's a forever before the earth, a few thousand years of earth, followed by a forever without the earth, not by chance, but due to the willful decisions of an omniscient being. Somehow the intentionality provides a dividing line in my mind. One premise strikes me as plausible, while the other strikes me as absurd, even though they effectively provide the same results.
I'm writing this from Stellarcon in High Point, by the way, sitting in a lobby through which klingons, pirates, stormtroopers, and multiple Darth Vaders are wandering. Perhaps it's this strangely surreal setting that has launched my current round of odd musings...
The article introduced the idea of what happened before the Big Bang by discussing a monk who asks his monk-boss (this probably isn't the actual title the church uses), "What was God doing before he created the earth?" The monk-boss answers, "Designing hell for those who ask too many questions." This reminded me of a paradox that used to bug me when I was a kid in church.
If I asked how long God had been around, I was assured it was forever. God's timeline was infinite, stretching into forever both forward and backward. But, this creates a paradox: How long did God wait before he created the world? Forever. Which is the mental equivilent of saying he never got around to creating the world. You can imagine how this provided a certain level of consternation to me when I was ten.
Of course, the same paradox exists in the colliding universe theory... how much time passed before they collided? Eternity. But, with the colliding universe theory, new worlds are being made all the time, for no reason at all, just random collisions. With the God theory, nothing but God existed forever, then he made a planet and a universe for it to float in, then he's going to destroy it all and everyone will live forever in heaven or hell. So, there's a forever before the earth, a few thousand years of earth, followed by a forever without the earth, not by chance, but due to the willful decisions of an omniscient being. Somehow the intentionality provides a dividing line in my mind. One premise strikes me as plausible, while the other strikes me as absurd, even though they effectively provide the same results.
I'm writing this from Stellarcon in High Point, by the way, sitting in a lobby through which klingons, pirates, stormtroopers, and multiple Darth Vaders are wandering. Perhaps it's this strangely surreal setting that has launched my current round of odd musings...
Thursday, March 06, 2008
Heretic Pride
Long time readers of my blog know I'm a big fan of the Mountain Goats... the band, not the animal. They just put out a new album last month, and it's the first album in ages that doesn't have a unifying theme. The last album, Get Lonely, was an album full of songs about an emotionally crippled man, possibly homeless, who spends a lot of time on the edges of society before finally offing himself in the final track. Before that, the Sunset Tree explored John Darnielle's personal story of his relationship with his abusive stepfather. We Shall All Be Healed was the story of a bunch of tweakers (meth users), and the whole trend of "theme" albums was really launched by Tallahassee, where John shed the low-fi sound of his earlier albums for higher production values as he told the story of an unhappy couple who stayed together only by staying drunk. Each of these albums were full of songs that were best understood in the context of the other songs, and everything worked together to form one overall story arc.
With Heretic Pride, the unifying theme is gone, but the ghosts of these previous albums live on. As I listen to this album, I keep finding myself plugging the songs into the story lines of earlier works.
"Sax Rohmer #1" would fit quite neatly onto the Tallahassee album; it's all about things decaying and spinning out of control as "every moment leads toward it's own sad end," yet the narrator insists in the chorus, "I am coming home to you with my own blood in my mouth." It easily fits into what John refers to as his "alpha" series, songs about a drunken dysfunctional couple.
"San Bernidino" reminds me of We Shall All Be Healed both musically and lyrically, while "Autoclave" reminds me of The Sunset Tree --"I am this great unstable mass of blood and foam and no one in her right mind would make my heart her home."
I wasn't a huge fan of Get Lonely, but my favorite track on Heretic Pride, "Marduk T-Shirt Men's Room Incident" would be perfectly at home on that album with it's narrator telling a girl in a bathroom who has obviously just survived some horrible experience:
It's an odd song that seems to offer hope in the fact that a human life is a rather ephemeral thing; our worst moments drift off into time little remembered or mourned, so there's no point for us to let them weigh us down. It's almost as if our very insignificance is a key to a type of holiness. Or, perhaps I'm reading too much into this. Of course, one reason I've been a fan of the Mountain Goats through a string of over ten albums is that John's songs possess that marvelous quality of seeming to be full of meaning--they reward listening and relistening in a way that lesser artist can't quite achieve. I've probably listened to The Coroner's Gambit album well over a hundred times, and every time I always seem to find some new poetic key that unfolds a new message. I listen to the mountain goats with the same faithful ferver that some men read the Bible.
Still, as much as I love the mountain goats, I was willing to pan their last album as mopey and overly produced. Hopefully my willingness to give them a thumbs down will give extra weight to the thumbs up I'm giving Heretic Pride. I've been listening to it non-stop since I picked it up last week, and I have a feeling that the next mix album I make of MG material will be heavy with tracks from Heretic Pride. As I type this, I'm listening to track 8, "Lovecraft in Brooklyn." What other songwriter could pull of a climax to a song like this?
Ah, good stuff. And I can't think of any other album this song fits on. Ultimately, it's songs like this that really pull Heretic Pride over the line into greatness.
With Heretic Pride, the unifying theme is gone, but the ghosts of these previous albums live on. As I listen to this album, I keep finding myself plugging the songs into the story lines of earlier works.
"Sax Rohmer #1" would fit quite neatly onto the Tallahassee album; it's all about things decaying and spinning out of control as "every moment leads toward it's own sad end," yet the narrator insists in the chorus, "I am coming home to you with my own blood in my mouth." It easily fits into what John refers to as his "alpha" series, songs about a drunken dysfunctional couple.
"San Bernidino" reminds me of We Shall All Be Healed both musically and lyrically, while "Autoclave" reminds me of The Sunset Tree --"I am this great unstable mass of blood and foam and no one in her right mind would make my heart her home."
I wasn't a huge fan of Get Lonely, but my favorite track on Heretic Pride, "Marduk T-Shirt Men's Room Incident" would be perfectly at home on that album with it's narrator telling a girl in a bathroom who has obviously just survived some horrible experience:
"Stay formless,
weightless,
blameless,
nameless."
It's an odd song that seems to offer hope in the fact that a human life is a rather ephemeral thing; our worst moments drift off into time little remembered or mourned, so there's no point for us to let them weigh us down. It's almost as if our very insignificance is a key to a type of holiness. Or, perhaps I'm reading too much into this. Of course, one reason I've been a fan of the Mountain Goats through a string of over ten albums is that John's songs possess that marvelous quality of seeming to be full of meaning--they reward listening and relistening in a way that lesser artist can't quite achieve. I've probably listened to The Coroner's Gambit album well over a hundred times, and every time I always seem to find some new poetic key that unfolds a new message. I listen to the mountain goats with the same faithful ferver that some men read the Bible.
Still, as much as I love the mountain goats, I was willing to pan their last album as mopey and overly produced. Hopefully my willingness to give them a thumbs down will give extra weight to the thumbs up I'm giving Heretic Pride. I've been listening to it non-stop since I picked it up last week, and I have a feeling that the next mix album I make of MG material will be heavy with tracks from Heretic Pride. As I type this, I'm listening to track 8, "Lovecraft in Brooklyn." What other songwriter could pull of a climax to a song like this?
Woke up afraid of my own shadow,
like, genuinely afraid.
Headed for the pawnshop
to buy myself a switchblade.
Someday something's coming
from way out beyond the stars
to kill us while we stand here;
it will store our brains in mason jars.
And then the girl behind the counter asks "How do you feel today?"
and I say "I feel like Lovecraft in Brooklyn!"
Ah, good stuff. And I can't think of any other album this song fits on. Ultimately, it's songs like this that really pull Heretic Pride over the line into greatness.
Saturday, February 09, 2008
Does religious bigotry equal racism or sexism?
Since Romney withdrew, I've probably heard about a dozen pundits and read at least that many columnists who have said that religious bigotry is the last remaining predjudice. Americans are willing to vote for a black man or a woman, the pundits say, but they won't vote for a Mormon. I made the same point myself a few articles back. Having grown up in a Pentacostal church, I can assure you that members of that faith wouldn't vote for a Mormon--nor, I should note, would they vote for an atheist or a Catholic, a Hindu, Buddhist or Muslim. Possibly they'd vote for a Jew and most protestant denominations. Definitely not a scientologist.
However, polls show that vast majorities of American's won't vote for atheists. As an atheist, I'm more or less resigned to the notion that I have to vote for people who profess a faith. Still, I doubt I'd vote for a scientologist. Nor would I vote for a president who professed a disbelief in evolution, as Mike Huckabee has. Is this bigotry? Sure, as defined by the dictionary. It states that bigotry is the "stubborn and complete intolerance of any creed, belief, or opinion that differs from one's own." But, of course, under that definition, everyone is a bigot--liberals are stubbornly in opposition to conservatism, conservatives are completely opposed to liberalism. I suppose there are a few mushy people in the middle who are so devoid of opinion that they regard all opinions as equal. I HATE those people!
But does religious bigotry equal racism? It seems to me to be a very dumb parallel. You are born into your race. You have no choice but to live your life black, white, or some shade in between. (I will avoid a Micheal Jackson joke here.) Hating people based on their physical attributes is fundamentally unfair because they didn't choose these physical attributes. (I suppose there are some physical attributes you control--an intense dislike of all people who tattoo "White Power" on their forehead could be justified.) But, religion isn't like the color of your skin. As an adult, you have the power to choose your creed, beliefs, and opinions--and other people, I would argue, should be free to scorn you for these.
Please note, I'm not advocating or justifying violence between people of different faiths. If you're a Muslim and I'm an atheist, I still feel we can chat politely at parties, work side by side at most jobs, and educate our children in schools that stay neutral on the matter. I also agree that there should be no legal religious test for holding an office in America. If you want to take your oath of office on a copy of Dianetics, well, the law shouldn't prevent that. But the choices of voters are a different matter than a legal test. I see nothing wrong with deciding that someone who thinks there were dinosaurs on the ark, or that L. Ron Hubbard was tapped into a higher truth, shouldn't be president. Nor do I feel victimized that the majority of people think it's written into the constitution somewhere that this is a Christian nation and think that all atheists are tools of Satan. You're entitled to your opinion. Which is, of course, the ultimate beauty of America--we're all entitled to our own goofy beliefs, and free to regard those who've drawn different conclusions as idiots. And thus the great wheel of America turns....
However, polls show that vast majorities of American's won't vote for atheists. As an atheist, I'm more or less resigned to the notion that I have to vote for people who profess a faith. Still, I doubt I'd vote for a scientologist. Nor would I vote for a president who professed a disbelief in evolution, as Mike Huckabee has. Is this bigotry? Sure, as defined by the dictionary. It states that bigotry is the "stubborn and complete intolerance of any creed, belief, or opinion that differs from one's own." But, of course, under that definition, everyone is a bigot--liberals are stubbornly in opposition to conservatism, conservatives are completely opposed to liberalism. I suppose there are a few mushy people in the middle who are so devoid of opinion that they regard all opinions as equal. I HATE those people!
But does religious bigotry equal racism? It seems to me to be a very dumb parallel. You are born into your race. You have no choice but to live your life black, white, or some shade in between. (I will avoid a Micheal Jackson joke here.) Hating people based on their physical attributes is fundamentally unfair because they didn't choose these physical attributes. (I suppose there are some physical attributes you control--an intense dislike of all people who tattoo "White Power" on their forehead could be justified.) But, religion isn't like the color of your skin. As an adult, you have the power to choose your creed, beliefs, and opinions--and other people, I would argue, should be free to scorn you for these.
Please note, I'm not advocating or justifying violence between people of different faiths. If you're a Muslim and I'm an atheist, I still feel we can chat politely at parties, work side by side at most jobs, and educate our children in schools that stay neutral on the matter. I also agree that there should be no legal religious test for holding an office in America. If you want to take your oath of office on a copy of Dianetics, well, the law shouldn't prevent that. But the choices of voters are a different matter than a legal test. I see nothing wrong with deciding that someone who thinks there were dinosaurs on the ark, or that L. Ron Hubbard was tapped into a higher truth, shouldn't be president. Nor do I feel victimized that the majority of people think it's written into the constitution somewhere that this is a Christian nation and think that all atheists are tools of Satan. You're entitled to your opinion. Which is, of course, the ultimate beauty of America--we're all entitled to our own goofy beliefs, and free to regard those who've drawn different conclusions as idiots. And thus the great wheel of America turns....
Sunday, February 03, 2008
More political blather
A few months back, I said that Ron Paul was the first Republican candidate I could imagine voting for. He's still in the race, but stalled at about 5% support, which is actually a lot better than I thought he'd do. And, there's a vague chance I might actually get to vote for him. If Romney doesn't drop out of the race, then the Republican nomination might actually roll on to the convention, meaning NC would actually have a voice in the primary process for the first time since I've been a resident of the state. Still, that would mean I'd have to register as a Republican, and I just can't see myself swallowing that kool-aid. And, while Ron Paul is very closely aligned with many of my political views, the has two big strikes against him:
1. There are charges, based on things that were written in a weekly newsletter that he used to publish, that he's a racist. The charge of racism gets flung around a lot in politics. Bill and Hillary are getting slapped the label, which shows how trivial the word has become. Still, I have read some of the quotes, and they are bothersome. Paul's defense is that he doesn't remember writing them, that he thinks they were the words of some staffer writing as him. I'll buy this... most politicians write very few of their own words. Still, that just puts Paul back into the "just another politician" camp and removes some of the edge from his talk about personal responsibility.
2. The whole gold standard thing. Paul is an advocate of returning to the gold standard. He feels that the value of money is completely arbitrary as long as its valued against other currencies instead of an actual, physical commodity. Which is true--except that it's arbitrary when valued against the actual, physicial commodities as well. Gold has no inherent god-given value that magically allows it to determine the true worth of a dollar. The value of gold floats on the arbitrary whims of humanity as much as the value of currencies float. So, I'm afraid I lump gold standard advocates in the same box in my head that holds flat-earthers and creationists.
One thing I will say in Paul's defense: He's anti-abortion, but at least he has the philisophical integrity to then also be anti-death penalty. "Pro-life" politicians who would fry half our prison population and who passionately advocate war drive me crazy.
However, all this talk about Paul is pointless in a way, because he's definitely not going to be a candidate for either party. If he runs as a libertarian, he'll pull down the cool 1% they normally get. Maybe his higher visibility might boost the take to 2% or, dare I dream it? 3%!
The all or nothing nature of the american political system galls me. I've lived 43 years and never once had a politician representing me, and doubt I will in the next 43 years either. The only thing that I can draw a little joy in is that a lot of the Republican chattering class is about to find themselves in the same boat. The most vocal elements of the Republican noise machine--the unholy trinity of Rush Limbaugh, Ann Coulter, and Sean Hannity, loathe John McCain. Coulter said this week she'd vote for Hillary before she'd vote for McCain. Assuming that they are too be believed (a dubious assumption, I know), then a McCain victory would be fun just to either see the mental contortions these vapid talkers go through to convince thier listeners that there were pro-McCain all along, or else see if they remain firmly anti-McCain and wind up blamed for a Republican defeat in the fall.
Finally, in a wierd instance of media bias this morning, I noticed two headlines stating that Clinton and Obama were now tied going into Tuesday's primary. But, when I looked at the actual articles, Clinton had a 4 point lead on Obama, 47-43. Now, sure, that's within the margin of error. But, it's not a tie. The headlines would be less biased in saying that Clinton has a slight lead.
1. There are charges, based on things that were written in a weekly newsletter that he used to publish, that he's a racist. The charge of racism gets flung around a lot in politics. Bill and Hillary are getting slapped the label, which shows how trivial the word has become. Still, I have read some of the quotes, and they are bothersome. Paul's defense is that he doesn't remember writing them, that he thinks they were the words of some staffer writing as him. I'll buy this... most politicians write very few of their own words. Still, that just puts Paul back into the "just another politician" camp and removes some of the edge from his talk about personal responsibility.
2. The whole gold standard thing. Paul is an advocate of returning to the gold standard. He feels that the value of money is completely arbitrary as long as its valued against other currencies instead of an actual, physical commodity. Which is true--except that it's arbitrary when valued against the actual, physicial commodities as well. Gold has no inherent god-given value that magically allows it to determine the true worth of a dollar. The value of gold floats on the arbitrary whims of humanity as much as the value of currencies float. So, I'm afraid I lump gold standard advocates in the same box in my head that holds flat-earthers and creationists.
One thing I will say in Paul's defense: He's anti-abortion, but at least he has the philisophical integrity to then also be anti-death penalty. "Pro-life" politicians who would fry half our prison population and who passionately advocate war drive me crazy.
However, all this talk about Paul is pointless in a way, because he's definitely not going to be a candidate for either party. If he runs as a libertarian, he'll pull down the cool 1% they normally get. Maybe his higher visibility might boost the take to 2% or, dare I dream it? 3%!
The all or nothing nature of the american political system galls me. I've lived 43 years and never once had a politician representing me, and doubt I will in the next 43 years either. The only thing that I can draw a little joy in is that a lot of the Republican chattering class is about to find themselves in the same boat. The most vocal elements of the Republican noise machine--the unholy trinity of Rush Limbaugh, Ann Coulter, and Sean Hannity, loathe John McCain. Coulter said this week she'd vote for Hillary before she'd vote for McCain. Assuming that they are too be believed (a dubious assumption, I know), then a McCain victory would be fun just to either see the mental contortions these vapid talkers go through to convince thier listeners that there were pro-McCain all along, or else see if they remain firmly anti-McCain and wind up blamed for a Republican defeat in the fall.
Finally, in a wierd instance of media bias this morning, I noticed two headlines stating that Clinton and Obama were now tied going into Tuesday's primary. But, when I looked at the actual articles, Clinton had a 4 point lead on Obama, 47-43. Now, sure, that's within the margin of error. But, it's not a tie. The headlines would be less biased in saying that Clinton has a slight lead.
Saturday, February 02, 2008
A guest message from IGMS Editor Ed Schubert
To Readers of Science Fiction and Fantasy everywhere,
When you have something great, you want everyone to know. So you tell people about it. You share it. You pass it along to friends everywhere. Well, that’s what we’re doing with InterGalactic Medicine Show. We want to make sure everyone has had a chance to check out what we’re doing, so we’re offering up a sampling of our stories – for free.
During the month of February we are going to make one story from each of our first four issues available at no charge. Two stories will be set free on February 1st, and two more on February 15th. Just visit www.intergalacticmedicineshow.com and explore the table of contents; the free stories will be clearly marked.
Issue one’s free story will be “Trill and The Beanstalk” by Edmund R. Schubert, issue two’s will be “Yazoo Queen” by Orson Scott Card (from his Alvin Maker series), issue three’s “Xoco’s Fire” by Oliver Dale, and issue four’s “Tabloid Reporter To The Stars” by Eric James Stone. Each story is fully illustrated by artists who were commissioned to create artwork to accompany that tale -- as is every story published in IGMS.
“Tabloid Reporter To The Stars” will also be featured in the upcoming InterGalactic Medicine Show anthology from Tor, which will be out this August (we wanted you to get a sneak peek of the anthology, too). However, the other three stories aren’t available anywhere except the online version of IGMS.
It’s really quite simple. Great stories. Custom illustrations. Free. We’re pleased with and proud of the magazine we’re publishing; now we’re passing it along to our friends and telling them about it. We hope you’ll enjoy it and do the same.
Edmund R. Schubert
Editor, Orson Scott Card’s InterGalactic Medicine Show
www.intergalacticmedicineshow.com
When you have something great, you want everyone to know. So you tell people about it. You share it. You pass it along to friends everywhere. Well, that’s what we’re doing with InterGalactic Medicine Show. We want to make sure everyone has had a chance to check out what we’re doing, so we’re offering up a sampling of our stories – for free.
During the month of February we are going to make one story from each of our first four issues available at no charge. Two stories will be set free on February 1st, and two more on February 15th. Just visit www.intergalacticmedicineshow.com and explore the table of contents; the free stories will be clearly marked.
Issue one’s free story will be “Trill and The Beanstalk” by Edmund R. Schubert, issue two’s will be “Yazoo Queen” by Orson Scott Card (from his Alvin Maker series), issue three’s “Xoco’s Fire” by Oliver Dale, and issue four’s “Tabloid Reporter To The Stars” by Eric James Stone. Each story is fully illustrated by artists who were commissioned to create artwork to accompany that tale -- as is every story published in IGMS.
“Tabloid Reporter To The Stars” will also be featured in the upcoming InterGalactic Medicine Show anthology from Tor, which will be out this August (we wanted you to get a sneak peek of the anthology, too). However, the other three stories aren’t available anywhere except the online version of IGMS.
It’s really quite simple. Great stories. Custom illustrations. Free. We’re pleased with and proud of the magazine we’re publishing; now we’re passing it along to our friends and telling them about it. We hope you’ll enjoy it and do the same.
Edmund R. Schubert
Editor, Orson Scott Card’s InterGalactic Medicine Show
www.intergalacticmedicineshow.com
Sunday, January 27, 2008
Fever Dreams, or, my most rambling post ever
Thursday I came down with a cold. I went to work that day, but have spent most of the time since flat on my back. My most annoying symptom has been an inability to feel as if I have a "normal" body temperature. I'm either burning up or I feel like I'm buried in a snow bank. My covers have been piled on, tossed off, tangled and mangled in every way imaginable.
I can't look at any given 8 hour stretch and say I've slept. Instead, I seem to be passing out for a few hours here and there, then rising in a state of discomfort to read, cruise the internet, or jot out strange notes on the pad by my bedside concerning the plot for my third Bitterwood book. Snippets of dialogue keep popping into my head. Bitterwood burns a library in one scene (the sky-dragons have a love of libraries and books). Jandra is shocked. Bitterwood growls, "No good has ever come to this world by a book." Given his backstory of having been indoctrinated by the Bible-toting prophet Hezekiah, his attitude is understandable, though, I hope, still unnerving to the average person reading the book. Bitterwood is an interesting hero because he's so unheroic. In today's culture, it's pretty slanderous to call someone a book burner.
The book I was reading during my fevered tossing was "The God Delusion" by Richard Dawkins. I probably would have ditched it midway through if I'd had the energy to get up and go to the library. It was a bit too much preaching to the choir for me; I already think that all the arguments for the existence of God, or for God's intervention in human affairs, are laughable. The notion that the universe was created for us by a being like us is absurd in the face of the astonishing age of the universe and this world, and the unimaginable size of the universe. Wouldn't an intelligent designer have made better use of his resources? If people are important to him, why put them only on one planet in nine around the sun? Why take 4 billion years to do it? If we took the "argument by design" seriously (which is to say, the universe looks designed, so there must be a designer), then we also have to conceded that human life is just a stray mark on the master blueprints. 99.999999999999999999999999999999% of everything that ever existed has no direct interaction with human life whatsoever.
Still, I'm glad I pushed through to the end of Dawkin's book, because that was where I found my biggest point of disagreement. He argues that it's a form of child abuse to raise children as religious, and especially to teach them about hell and a judgmental, vengeful god. I'm not unsympathetic to his argument. But, my gut reaction is, what's the alternative? If parents believe in these things, how are we to stop them from teaching their children? Pass laws? Take at risk children away from their homes? Then what? Raise them in reeducation camps? 90% of the atheists I know came from religious households. Despite Dawkin's understandable concerns, I just think there's a greater social danger in attempting to intervene in childrearing than there is in letting the children be raised as their parents wish and attempting to change the minds of the adults they become.
Finally, in a completely unrelated topic, I followed the SC primaries this weekend and was happy to see Obama win. I'm not certain I'm going to vote this year; the libertarian party has been decertified in NC. Yet, I'm still following politics closely, and the presidential races for both Dems and Republicans are fascinating to me. On the Republican side, it looks as if the nomination will boil down to selecting a candidate who is disliked by at least 60% of the party. In national polls, none of them are able to pull much above 25%. All face some core of rabid opposition. McCain is loathed by the part of the base that cares about immigration. Romney faces some opposition from religious conservatives who will tell you they oppose him for flipflopping on abortion, but who actually stay home and let Hillary Clinton into office before risking the wrath of God by voting for a Mormon. Guiliani is opposed by this same segment for not flipflopping on abortion and gay rights. And Huckabee, who best represents the core that most strongly opposes Romney and Guiliani, is rabidly opposed by the fiscal conservatives. I really have no idea how this nomination is going to play out. My gut says Romney is likeliest to win the nomination since he's got the most money and can stay in until the last dog is hung. But, if he is the nominee, I predict a third party run by some figure from the religious right that will peel off 2% or 3% of fundamentalist voters, leaving Romney to carry maybe ten states in the general election. (By the way, I do think a Morman could be elected president--but only running as a democrat, since fundamentalist christians aren't as significant a proportion of their base.)
But, I started that last paragraph talking about Obama, not Romney. If history is to be made in this election, and we do elect either a black president of a female president, it seems to me that the more honorable, uplifting historic change would be the election of Obama. His victory would be a clear message that any man, regardless of the color of his skin, can grow up to be president in America. With Hillary, the message simply seems muddier. It seems to imply that any woman can become president, assuming she marries a man who is president first. There are plenty of other female senators. If this was Barbara Boxer as a serious contender, it would seem historic to me. As it is, it seems like not so much that Hillary is going to make history as the first female president, as she is going to be pointing a path toward future strategies for getting around term limits. It's already common in the house for spouses to pursue the seats of departed members. I predict we'll see more and more political couples rise as a two for one deal--Bob and Libby Dole if they were twenty years younger, for instance. The candidate's pick of a spouse will be examined as closely as the pick of a running mate. Indeed, it doesn't matter who Clinton chooses as her "real" running mate. The true second person on the ticket will be Bill himself. This can either be an argument for or against electing Hillary, I suppose.
I can't look at any given 8 hour stretch and say I've slept. Instead, I seem to be passing out for a few hours here and there, then rising in a state of discomfort to read, cruise the internet, or jot out strange notes on the pad by my bedside concerning the plot for my third Bitterwood book. Snippets of dialogue keep popping into my head. Bitterwood burns a library in one scene (the sky-dragons have a love of libraries and books). Jandra is shocked. Bitterwood growls, "No good has ever come to this world by a book." Given his backstory of having been indoctrinated by the Bible-toting prophet Hezekiah, his attitude is understandable, though, I hope, still unnerving to the average person reading the book. Bitterwood is an interesting hero because he's so unheroic. In today's culture, it's pretty slanderous to call someone a book burner.
The book I was reading during my fevered tossing was "The God Delusion" by Richard Dawkins. I probably would have ditched it midway through if I'd had the energy to get up and go to the library. It was a bit too much preaching to the choir for me; I already think that all the arguments for the existence of God, or for God's intervention in human affairs, are laughable. The notion that the universe was created for us by a being like us is absurd in the face of the astonishing age of the universe and this world, and the unimaginable size of the universe. Wouldn't an intelligent designer have made better use of his resources? If people are important to him, why put them only on one planet in nine around the sun? Why take 4 billion years to do it? If we took the "argument by design" seriously (which is to say, the universe looks designed, so there must be a designer), then we also have to conceded that human life is just a stray mark on the master blueprints. 99.999999999999999999999999999999% of everything that ever existed has no direct interaction with human life whatsoever.
Still, I'm glad I pushed through to the end of Dawkin's book, because that was where I found my biggest point of disagreement. He argues that it's a form of child abuse to raise children as religious, and especially to teach them about hell and a judgmental, vengeful god. I'm not unsympathetic to his argument. But, my gut reaction is, what's the alternative? If parents believe in these things, how are we to stop them from teaching their children? Pass laws? Take at risk children away from their homes? Then what? Raise them in reeducation camps? 90% of the atheists I know came from religious households. Despite Dawkin's understandable concerns, I just think there's a greater social danger in attempting to intervene in childrearing than there is in letting the children be raised as their parents wish and attempting to change the minds of the adults they become.
Finally, in a completely unrelated topic, I followed the SC primaries this weekend and was happy to see Obama win. I'm not certain I'm going to vote this year; the libertarian party has been decertified in NC. Yet, I'm still following politics closely, and the presidential races for both Dems and Republicans are fascinating to me. On the Republican side, it looks as if the nomination will boil down to selecting a candidate who is disliked by at least 60% of the party. In national polls, none of them are able to pull much above 25%. All face some core of rabid opposition. McCain is loathed by the part of the base that cares about immigration. Romney faces some opposition from religious conservatives who will tell you they oppose him for flipflopping on abortion, but who actually stay home and let Hillary Clinton into office before risking the wrath of God by voting for a Mormon. Guiliani is opposed by this same segment for not flipflopping on abortion and gay rights. And Huckabee, who best represents the core that most strongly opposes Romney and Guiliani, is rabidly opposed by the fiscal conservatives. I really have no idea how this nomination is going to play out. My gut says Romney is likeliest to win the nomination since he's got the most money and can stay in until the last dog is hung. But, if he is the nominee, I predict a third party run by some figure from the religious right that will peel off 2% or 3% of fundamentalist voters, leaving Romney to carry maybe ten states in the general election. (By the way, I do think a Morman could be elected president--but only running as a democrat, since fundamentalist christians aren't as significant a proportion of their base.)
But, I started that last paragraph talking about Obama, not Romney. If history is to be made in this election, and we do elect either a black president of a female president, it seems to me that the more honorable, uplifting historic change would be the election of Obama. His victory would be a clear message that any man, regardless of the color of his skin, can grow up to be president in America. With Hillary, the message simply seems muddier. It seems to imply that any woman can become president, assuming she marries a man who is president first. There are plenty of other female senators. If this was Barbara Boxer as a serious contender, it would seem historic to me. As it is, it seems like not so much that Hillary is going to make history as the first female president, as she is going to be pointing a path toward future strategies for getting around term limits. It's already common in the house for spouses to pursue the seats of departed members. I predict we'll see more and more political couples rise as a two for one deal--Bob and Libby Dole if they were twenty years younger, for instance. The candidate's pick of a spouse will be examined as closely as the pick of a running mate. Indeed, it doesn't matter who Clinton chooses as her "real" running mate. The true second person on the ticket will be Bill himself. This can either be an argument for or against electing Hillary, I suppose.
Free download of DEADSTOCK
Solaris has made Jeffrey Thomas's SF novel DEADSTOCK available as a free download to support the upcoming release of the second book in that series, BLUE WAR. I enjoyed the book last year and think it's worth checking out. The first chapter, which I believe had been available as a free download before now, was actually not the strongest starting point for the book. It makes sense in a logical, cronolical plot sequence as the opening, but is is weakened by the fact it doesn't introduce the protagonist, Jeremy Stake, who's the real selling point of this book. But, now that the whole book is available online for free, you no longer have to trust me on this. Just read the first two chapters. I suspect you'll either keep reading the whole book, or run out to the store and buy a copy. The link to download it is here.
I'm hoping that this is just the first of many books Solaris makes available for free from their back catalogue. Baen Books has been following this model for a few years now, and it certainly hasn't damaged the sales of their authors.
I'm hoping that this is just the first of many books Solaris makes available for free from their back catalogue. Baen Books has been following this model for a few years now, and it certainly hasn't damaged the sales of their authors.
Saturday, January 19, 2008
Laura's snow
It snowed today, the first decent snow this part of North Carolina has seen in two years. There was a little dusting of snow once last year, and a smattering of icy weather that sent cars off the road in Raleigh, but I'm not counting those. Two years ago, as Laura was in the final months of her life, we had a really cold winter--but no snow. One of the things she told me she wanted to see that winter was one more good, solid snowfall, something that would drape the world in white for at least an hour or two.
It never came. When it was cold, it was dry. When there were clouds, it was warm. January, February, and March rolled by, and I tried to encourage her, telling her that I'd seen April snowfalls before. But, of course, the only white on the ground in April were the flowers painting the spring fields.
Since then, any time I hear a forecast of snow, I can't help but think of Laura. I tried to be tuned in to her needs. Any time she expressed even a faint craving for some food, I'd hop in the car to go get it. When spring came early, she talked about wanting a new flower bed and her father and I made her one. But, snow was something I couldn't bring her, and it's tough to look out over the blanket of white tonight without feeling at least a little melancholly. This is the kind of snow she wanted to see.
It's a little peace and beauty settling over the world, a little tranquility, at least until dawn. I'm glad I've learned the right way to look at it.
Friday, January 11, 2008
Silent As Dust
My short story "Silent as Dust" went live this week at Intergalactic Medicine Show. It's my own rather stange take on a ghost story, and it is, in my humble opinion, perhaps the finest story I've yet put into print. IGMS is a paid subscription site, but individual issues only cost $2.50. You can read the first 500 words of the story for free by clicking here.
While you're there, be sure to click on the artwork for a fullsize view of the illustration. The detail is wonderful. Nick Greenwood is the artist, and if you follow the link you'll find other illustrations by him. Excellent stuff.
Monday, January 07, 2008
Bedroom renovation
Last year when I moved in, I renovated a lot of rooms, but ran out of time and money before I could work on the bedroom. It was a pretty bleak space. The walls were exposed cinderblock painted white, and the carpet was this dingey gray stuff that looked like it was probably 50 years old.
The white walls...
The bad carpet....
Since I have time off from work to work on the final draft of Dragonforge, I thought I'd go ahead and make a final assault on the place. I had originally thought about putting up more drywall, but while I was looking at paints, I kept noticing that there are a lot of paints made to give your walls a fake stone or masonry texture. I already had a real masonry texture! So, I decided to paint the room a brick color, brown with a hint of red (or, red with a hint of brown). The photo below doesn't really capture the color that well, since the flash makes it too light, and without the flash it looks too dark. But, you probably know what color most bricks are. It's that color.
The white walls...
The bad carpet....Since I have time off from work to work on the final draft of Dragonforge, I thought I'd go ahead and make a final assault on the place. I had originally thought about putting up more drywall, but while I was looking at paints, I kept noticing that there are a lot of paints made to give your walls a fake stone or masonry texture. I already had a real masonry texture! So, I decided to paint the room a brick color, brown with a hint of red (or, red with a hint of brown). The photo below doesn't really capture the color that well, since the flash makes it too light, and without the flash it looks too dark. But, you probably know what color most bricks are. It's that color.
The floor is laminate flooring I got for .69 a square foot at Lowe's. My roommate Duanne helped me put it down (also, he helped with painting). I'm glad I didn't tackle the task alone, because the laminate was a lot harder to install than it seemed in the store. Since it's locking together on the ends and the sides, you really have to lock in an entire strip at once, which might be possible if you're ten feet tall and have four arms. If my room had been any bigger, it probably would have required three people.
In any case, the room looks much better now than it did. Before it had sort of a prison cell vibe. Now it's warm and surprisingly outdoorsy... the brick color makes you feel like you're on the outside of the house. The room also looks larger.
Unless I put in an oven, this is the last major indoor renovation I'm planning for a while. Now I'll be focusing my energies outside.
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
...and a happy new year!
Another Christmas rolls around, and I find myself happy at the thought that, starting tomorrow, I can once again listen to the news or read a newspaper without some prominent article reminding me about the plight of the unfornate at Christmas. As an atheist, I don't celebrate Christmas, and usually just try to keep a low profile and enjoy it, if not celebrate it. I'm happy other people find happiness in the day, I recognize it's good for the economy, and I'm not one to complain about a paid day off. Plus, I like eggnog, and this is the only time of the year most stores carry it.
But, one thing I've gotten weary of over the years is the nagging, scolding tone of the news this time of year. It's become such a cliche that, when the holiday rolls around, reporters go out in search of the most miserable people they can find in order to remind us of the less fortunate at christmas. Sometimes, there's a happy spin to it--a mystery donor gives some poor kid a kidney or something, or some comunity group chips in to buy a homeless man a christmas tree.
Just once, I'd like to see a reporter stand in front of a mansion and deliver us a story reminding us that christmas also comes to the more fortunate among us. A heartwarming story about a man who gives his teenage son a sport car that costs more than the GNP of Bali, or perhaps his own professional baseball team. A christmas morning where the children run outside and find actual reindeer from Lapland have been flown in by their father on his private freight helicoptor, along with three feet of snow and new snowmobiles, even though they live in Miami. That would be a Christmas story I haven't read before.
Ah well. I can dream.
But, one thing I've gotten weary of over the years is the nagging, scolding tone of the news this time of year. It's become such a cliche that, when the holiday rolls around, reporters go out in search of the most miserable people they can find in order to remind us of the less fortunate at christmas. Sometimes, there's a happy spin to it--a mystery donor gives some poor kid a kidney or something, or some comunity group chips in to buy a homeless man a christmas tree.
Just once, I'd like to see a reporter stand in front of a mansion and deliver us a story reminding us that christmas also comes to the more fortunate among us. A heartwarming story about a man who gives his teenage son a sport car that costs more than the GNP of Bali, or perhaps his own professional baseball team. A christmas morning where the children run outside and find actual reindeer from Lapland have been flown in by their father on his private freight helicoptor, along with three feet of snow and new snowmobiles, even though they live in Miami. That would be a Christmas story I haven't read before.
Ah well. I can dream.
Thursday, December 20, 2007
Things Edmund Schubert Knows About Writing
Ed Schubert has started producing his articles on writing now. Check out his Sideshow Freaks blog for a variety of interesting topics. I particularly liked this point from his article on using metaphors:
Another advantage of using metaphors, similes, and analogies is this: they help people remember your keys points. By using one of these comparative devices, you are subliminally telling people (by placing extra emphasis on it) what your most important points are.
This is a very good point, with the counterpoint being that there are times where you will deliberately be toning down your writing, keeping it simple and free of metaphors, just so when you reach the point you most want the reader to carry away, the sudden elevation of language will have the intended impact. I've read stories where practically every paragraph has some sort of simile in it, and I find such stories almost unreadable. It's like watching a movie where all the extras are in the background waving their arms and shouting "look here!" while the main actors are trying to deliver their dialogue.
Anyway, you can read more of his excellent advice here.
Another advantage of using metaphors, similes, and analogies is this: they help people remember your keys points. By using one of these comparative devices, you are subliminally telling people (by placing extra emphasis on it) what your most important points are.
This is a very good point, with the counterpoint being that there are times where you will deliberately be toning down your writing, keeping it simple and free of metaphors, just so when you reach the point you most want the reader to carry away, the sudden elevation of language will have the intended impact. I've read stories where practically every paragraph has some sort of simile in it, and I find such stories almost unreadable. It's like watching a movie where all the extras are in the background waving their arms and shouting "look here!" while the main actors are trying to deliver their dialogue.
Anyway, you can read more of his excellent advice here.
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
One more thing Lisa Shearin knows about writing...
I hope to update my blog soon! I've been in a real time crunch, getting the second draft of DRAGONFORGE onto paper. (Well, onto magnetic particles on my hard drive, actually.) I'm done with that draft, and now comes draft three! Still, I've got a lot of time off coming soon, and plenty of stuff to talk about here and at my Bitterwood blog.
In the meantime, check out Lisa Shearin's latest blog posts in the "Things I know about writing series." In fact, it's worth checking out her whole blog. Lots of interesting insights into her experiences as a novelist.
In the meantime, check out Lisa Shearin's latest blog posts in the "Things I know about writing series." In fact, it's worth checking out her whole blog. Lots of interesting insights into her experiences as a novelist.
Wednesday, December 05, 2007
You gotta want it bad
Lisa Shearin is live with her second article about writing, You Gotta Want It Bad.
From the article:
Some authors are literal overnight successes -- they hit pay dirt and even the "big time" with the first book they've ever written. We've seen their stories -- six- and seven-figure advances, press coverage out the wazoo; heck, sometimes even Oprah.
Then there's me -- and 99.99% of writers. The first book we have published isn't our first or second. Mine was my third.
From the article:
Some authors are literal overnight successes -- they hit pay dirt and even the "big time" with the first book they've ever written. We've seen their stories -- six- and seven-figure advances, press coverage out the wazoo; heck, sometimes even Oprah.
Then there's me -- and 99.99% of writers. The first book we have published isn't our first or second. Mine was my third.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Five things Lisa Shearin has learned about writing
Novelist Lisa Shearin has posted the first of her writing articles based on my challenge. She starts with an article on how to approach your novel in managable chunks. I particularly liked this thought:
"Some people are intimidated away from writing a book because they think we authors have the whole book in our heads when we start. Heck, most of us don't have the whole book in our heads when we finish."
Read the whole article at her blog here.
"Some people are intimidated away from writing a book because they think we authors have the whole book in our heads when we start. Heck, most of us don't have the whole book in our heads when we finish."
Read the whole article at her blog here.
Monday, November 26, 2007
Five things Andy Remic has learned about writing
In my last post, I challenged four other authors to blog about five things they've learned about writing. The first of these articles is now live at the blog of Andy Remic, author of War Machine. His article includes this seasonally appropriate bit of advice on plotting: Your story should be like a Christmas tree. You’ve got your central plotline, the trunk, which starts at the base with lots of different branches arcing away, so maybe A needs to find B, take it to C and destroy it with Z. From this trunk, as the novel progresses, secondary plotlines evolve and are completed, all branching from the main plotline; as you reach the end of the novel, the secondary plotlines must be shorter and shorter, as the pace increases, and then you reach the glittering star- or the climax- of the story J. Check out the whole article at Wired, Weird, and Wonderful.
Sunday, November 25, 2007
You Never Write Alone
Most fiction writers write alone. Sure, you might occasionally go out to a coffee shop with a laptop or a notepad and scribble down a few lines. Yet, for the most part, writing requires an active concentration and a certain amount of stillness to allow you to hear the unspoken words inside you. Even if you are sitting in the coffee shop writing your stories, it’s a good bet you’ve tuned out all the voices and distractions around you. When you are writing, there is nothing in the world but you and your words as they seep out one by one.
I remember hanging out with my artist friend Eric Buchanan in his studio in the years after college. He would paint while a half dozen friends came by. Everyone would sit around chatting and Eric would talk but keep painting. I was very envious. I cannot imagine carrying on a conversation while writing. Harlan Ellison may sit in the windows of book stores and write short stories, but writing isn’t going to be a public event for most authors.
Yet, the title of this article is, “You Never Write Alone.” Kind of at odds with my opening paragraphs, yes? So what do I mean?
Two things: First, and most importantly, all fiction writers must learn that there is one more person involved in the creative process other than themselves and their fictional cast. That unseen person is the reader. The sooner you become aware of the reader’s presence, the better your writing will be.
One eye-opening thing that happened to me at Odyssey ten years ago was the response I was getting from a room full of twenty people. Some of the readers in the room seemed to get me, and liked my stories. But, the majority always seemed to miss some point I was making. They were confused by the character’s motivations, or bewildered by the setting, or just couldn’t follow the leaps of logic in the plot. I could read my own story and have all these things make sense, but I was failing to put what I knew about the characters and the setting onto the page in a clear and easily grasped way that readers could understand.
Looking back, I believe my biggest problems were that I was trying to be coy, or subtle, or clever with my writing. I had an innate fear of simplicity and directness. Subtlety and cleverness are fine qualities for a writer to strive for, but they are also pitfalls that many a fine story has fallen into. One bit of advice I read years ago was, “Never be afraid to be too obvious.” It’s advice I try to follow. If you are too obvious, an editor can understand what you are saying, see that it’s worth saying, and tell you, “You’re being too obvious here. Tone it down.” If you are being too subtle, however, you aren’t going to get feedback telling you what it is that the editor doesn’t get. It may be you’ve placed a very subtle clue to your character’s motivations on page three of your thirty page manuscript. So subtle that the editor doesn’t get it, and ten pages into your story decides that your characters are behaving in a random and unconvincing fashion and simply moves on to the next story.
It is vital to understand that you are writing to be read. You don’t need to talk down or pander to your unseen reader, but you shouldn’t be afraid to offer them any help you can in order to understand your story as quickly as possible. College literature classes have skewed many young writers because they expose writers to stories that require footnotes and multiple readings to understand, and hold this up as the pinnacle of fine writing. But, most readers in the wild, outside the confines of a classroom, aren’t looking for a novel they have to read multiple times to fathom. They want a story where they know who the characters are, what they are doing, why they are doing it, and where they are doing it. Get all this onto the page as directly as possible and you will have a larger pool of potential readers than if you purposefully craft prose that is obscure, arcane, and downright unintelligible.
Of course, it may be that you wish to target fans of the downright unintelligible, as James Joyce did with Finegan’s Wake or Burroughs’s did with Naked Lunch. You are free to choose the unseen reader you most want to engage. If that unseen reader is a literature professor, there’s no shame in that.
My unseen reader has changed over the years. It began as a teacher, then a college professor—they were being paid to read my writing when I was a student, and I wanted to write stories that pleased them. Then, my unseen writers started to include close friends. Of course, my friends often knew what the story was about because I talked to them about the writing it before I ever wrote it. My unseen reader expanded when I joined the Writer’s Group of the Triad in Greensboro. Suddenly, strangers were reading my writing, and I was getting very different feedback than I had from my friends.
The more people who read my work, the more I found myself adjusting my writing strategies. I kept honing my style to fix the points that readers kept stumbling over. I began making my plots more linear. And, I kept building my circle of readers. While with the WGOT, I’m guessing 50 people over the years read my words and gave me feedback. Oddyssey added another 20 people to this, then maybe 20 more in the online critique group that followed. I later went to boot camp, which added another 15 readers to my circle, and began posting stories on Zoetrope.com and roped in another 30 or 40 readers. Codexwriters.com added dozens more.
Now, when I write, I may be sitting alone in a room, but I have the comments, criticisms, and kind words of about 200 people echoing in my ears. I cannot possibly name them all here, but I maintain strict POV within scenes because Rick Fisher used to catch each and every time I didn’t. Elizabeth Lustig used to hand back my pages to me filled with red ink. I still find myself in the middle of fifty words sentences from time to time and try to imagine how she would fix it. I remember Harlan Ellison delivering a scathing critique of one of my stories because I’d been purposefully obscure in the opening paragraph. He told me I wasn’t good enough to pull it off and he was right; his words still push me to strive for clarity. Suanne Warr wrote a blog post about Bitterwood where she said she’d found the multiple POV’s distracting. I thought it was a good point, so I made the choice to limit the number of POV characters in Dragon Forge to only a half dozen or so before I got too far into it.
Currently, as I rewrite Dragon Forge, I keep sending out chapters to a fairly large group of people. Some have read Bitterwood, some haven’t. Feedback I got from my live critique group of Alex Wilson, Suanne Warr, William Ferrus, Mike Jasper and Jud Nirenberg has already reshaped the draft I’ve been sending to my second draft readers of Laurel Amberdine, Cathy Bollinger, Ada Brown, Guy Stewart, and Oliver Dale. Slowly a consensus is building as to what’s working and what isn’t, and soon I’ll be starting a third draft where I try to address their concerns and put in more of the stuff they liked.
While the individual reader feedback still resonates with me, it’s the collective reader I write for—and that collective reader just gets better the more people I get feedback from. Now that I’m published, I get have the advantage of having my stories reviewed and blogged about. I check Amazon all the time to see if some new feedback has been posted on my books.
For the beginning author, your best source of feedback is other writers in training. They are all over the internet. Unless you are the world’s least competent googler, you can find something that suits your needs pretty quickly. You can probably also find a live critique group in your area that meets frequently. If you live in the Research Triangle Area and are looking for a group, let me know. We’ve got open slots in the one I attend.
The key, I think, is not to get locked into just one group. You want feedback from as varied a population as possible. If the same five or six people keep reading your work, you will have a harder time moving forward than you will if fifty or sixty people read your work. And when I say, “your work,” I don’t mean one story. To grow as a writer, you need to write a lot of stories, and have them read by a lot of people. Your goal here is to allow your style to develop over a body of work, not to keep revising the same story a dozen times based on the feedback of a dozen people.
Finally, there is one final important presence in the life of writers—their peers. It’s vital, if you are a new writer, to get out and talk to other new writers who are blazing their own paths to success. Some people will say that you should go and get the advice of old pros. While I found advice from Orson Scott Card and Harlan Ellison helpful, I also realized that so many of the bridges they crossed to reach success have long since burned. If you are at the beginning of your career, it’s useful to talk to other writers near the beginning of their careers. They are going to often have more realistic and practical advice than authors who’ve had years to build a fan base.
Speaking of the realistic and practical advice of my peers, I’ve sent out a challenge to some of them to see if they would be interested in sharing their wisdom, and several have graciously stepped up to the plate. So, in the coming weeks, check out the blogs of Lisa Shearin, author of the fantasy series that launched with Magic Lost, Trouble Found; Edmund Schubert, editor of Orson Scott Card’s Intergalactic Medicine Show; Ken Scholes, author of a five book fantasy series from Tor; and Andy Remic, author of War Machine and many other fine tales of future combat. I’ve hung out with most of these people at cons or other events, and think you’ll find their insights illuminating.
I remember hanging out with my artist friend Eric Buchanan in his studio in the years after college. He would paint while a half dozen friends came by. Everyone would sit around chatting and Eric would talk but keep painting. I was very envious. I cannot imagine carrying on a conversation while writing. Harlan Ellison may sit in the windows of book stores and write short stories, but writing isn’t going to be a public event for most authors.
Yet, the title of this article is, “You Never Write Alone.” Kind of at odds with my opening paragraphs, yes? So what do I mean?
Two things: First, and most importantly, all fiction writers must learn that there is one more person involved in the creative process other than themselves and their fictional cast. That unseen person is the reader. The sooner you become aware of the reader’s presence, the better your writing will be.
One eye-opening thing that happened to me at Odyssey ten years ago was the response I was getting from a room full of twenty people. Some of the readers in the room seemed to get me, and liked my stories. But, the majority always seemed to miss some point I was making. They were confused by the character’s motivations, or bewildered by the setting, or just couldn’t follow the leaps of logic in the plot. I could read my own story and have all these things make sense, but I was failing to put what I knew about the characters and the setting onto the page in a clear and easily grasped way that readers could understand.
Looking back, I believe my biggest problems were that I was trying to be coy, or subtle, or clever with my writing. I had an innate fear of simplicity and directness. Subtlety and cleverness are fine qualities for a writer to strive for, but they are also pitfalls that many a fine story has fallen into. One bit of advice I read years ago was, “Never be afraid to be too obvious.” It’s advice I try to follow. If you are too obvious, an editor can understand what you are saying, see that it’s worth saying, and tell you, “You’re being too obvious here. Tone it down.” If you are being too subtle, however, you aren’t going to get feedback telling you what it is that the editor doesn’t get. It may be you’ve placed a very subtle clue to your character’s motivations on page three of your thirty page manuscript. So subtle that the editor doesn’t get it, and ten pages into your story decides that your characters are behaving in a random and unconvincing fashion and simply moves on to the next story.
It is vital to understand that you are writing to be read. You don’t need to talk down or pander to your unseen reader, but you shouldn’t be afraid to offer them any help you can in order to understand your story as quickly as possible. College literature classes have skewed many young writers because they expose writers to stories that require footnotes and multiple readings to understand, and hold this up as the pinnacle of fine writing. But, most readers in the wild, outside the confines of a classroom, aren’t looking for a novel they have to read multiple times to fathom. They want a story where they know who the characters are, what they are doing, why they are doing it, and where they are doing it. Get all this onto the page as directly as possible and you will have a larger pool of potential readers than if you purposefully craft prose that is obscure, arcane, and downright unintelligible.
Of course, it may be that you wish to target fans of the downright unintelligible, as James Joyce did with Finegan’s Wake or Burroughs’s did with Naked Lunch. You are free to choose the unseen reader you most want to engage. If that unseen reader is a literature professor, there’s no shame in that.
My unseen reader has changed over the years. It began as a teacher, then a college professor—they were being paid to read my writing when I was a student, and I wanted to write stories that pleased them. Then, my unseen writers started to include close friends. Of course, my friends often knew what the story was about because I talked to them about the writing it before I ever wrote it. My unseen reader expanded when I joined the Writer’s Group of the Triad in Greensboro. Suddenly, strangers were reading my writing, and I was getting very different feedback than I had from my friends.
The more people who read my work, the more I found myself adjusting my writing strategies. I kept honing my style to fix the points that readers kept stumbling over. I began making my plots more linear. And, I kept building my circle of readers. While with the WGOT, I’m guessing 50 people over the years read my words and gave me feedback. Oddyssey added another 20 people to this, then maybe 20 more in the online critique group that followed. I later went to boot camp, which added another 15 readers to my circle, and began posting stories on Zoetrope.com and roped in another 30 or 40 readers. Codexwriters.com added dozens more.
Now, when I write, I may be sitting alone in a room, but I have the comments, criticisms, and kind words of about 200 people echoing in my ears. I cannot possibly name them all here, but I maintain strict POV within scenes because Rick Fisher used to catch each and every time I didn’t. Elizabeth Lustig used to hand back my pages to me filled with red ink. I still find myself in the middle of fifty words sentences from time to time and try to imagine how she would fix it. I remember Harlan Ellison delivering a scathing critique of one of my stories because I’d been purposefully obscure in the opening paragraph. He told me I wasn’t good enough to pull it off and he was right; his words still push me to strive for clarity. Suanne Warr wrote a blog post about Bitterwood where she said she’d found the multiple POV’s distracting. I thought it was a good point, so I made the choice to limit the number of POV characters in Dragon Forge to only a half dozen or so before I got too far into it.
Currently, as I rewrite Dragon Forge, I keep sending out chapters to a fairly large group of people. Some have read Bitterwood, some haven’t. Feedback I got from my live critique group of Alex Wilson, Suanne Warr, William Ferrus, Mike Jasper and Jud Nirenberg has already reshaped the draft I’ve been sending to my second draft readers of Laurel Amberdine, Cathy Bollinger, Ada Brown, Guy Stewart, and Oliver Dale. Slowly a consensus is building as to what’s working and what isn’t, and soon I’ll be starting a third draft where I try to address their concerns and put in more of the stuff they liked.
While the individual reader feedback still resonates with me, it’s the collective reader I write for—and that collective reader just gets better the more people I get feedback from. Now that I’m published, I get have the advantage of having my stories reviewed and blogged about. I check Amazon all the time to see if some new feedback has been posted on my books.
For the beginning author, your best source of feedback is other writers in training. They are all over the internet. Unless you are the world’s least competent googler, you can find something that suits your needs pretty quickly. You can probably also find a live critique group in your area that meets frequently. If you live in the Research Triangle Area and are looking for a group, let me know. We’ve got open slots in the one I attend.
The key, I think, is not to get locked into just one group. You want feedback from as varied a population as possible. If the same five or six people keep reading your work, you will have a harder time moving forward than you will if fifty or sixty people read your work. And when I say, “your work,” I don’t mean one story. To grow as a writer, you need to write a lot of stories, and have them read by a lot of people. Your goal here is to allow your style to develop over a body of work, not to keep revising the same story a dozen times based on the feedback of a dozen people.
Finally, there is one final important presence in the life of writers—their peers. It’s vital, if you are a new writer, to get out and talk to other new writers who are blazing their own paths to success. Some people will say that you should go and get the advice of old pros. While I found advice from Orson Scott Card and Harlan Ellison helpful, I also realized that so many of the bridges they crossed to reach success have long since burned. If you are at the beginning of your career, it’s useful to talk to other writers near the beginning of their careers. They are going to often have more realistic and practical advice than authors who’ve had years to build a fan base.
Speaking of the realistic and practical advice of my peers, I’ve sent out a challenge to some of them to see if they would be interested in sharing their wisdom, and several have graciously stepped up to the plate. So, in the coming weeks, check out the blogs of Lisa Shearin, author of the fantasy series that launched with Magic Lost, Trouble Found; Edmund Schubert, editor of Orson Scott Card’s Intergalactic Medicine Show; Ken Scholes, author of a five book fantasy series from Tor; and Andy Remic, author of War Machine and many other fine tales of future combat. I’ve hung out with most of these people at cons or other events, and think you’ll find their insights illuminating.
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Embrace your demons
This is perhaps the most presumptuous of these five essays. My first three articles were mostly a collection of writing techniques--build your story out of scenes, recognize the value of writing a bad story, and learn to write your first drafts quickly. This time, I'm not going to talk about how to write as much as I'm going to talk about why to write and what to write about. The why and what questions are going to be answered differently by everyone. Everybody is going to have slightly different reasons why they write. And, there is no "wrong" subject to write about. Anything you want to put on paper is fair game.
Still, I feel like any writer is going to benefit from pausing for a moment to consider why they are writing what they are writing. You can be a very talented writer with a real flare for poetic prose, but if you are only picking trivial subjects to write about, you might find your career going nowhere.
My earliest attempts to write SF and Fantasy showed some technical promise. I could plot; I could write dialogue; I had good instincts for writing action and knowing how to draw the reader along from one event to the next. But, all of those early stories feel hollow to me now. They are mostly "nifty idea" stories. Wouldn't it be nifty if all reality was computer generated? Wouldn't it be nifty if the Greek gods were working at the local television station? Wouldn't it be nifty to find life on Mars? In retrospect, these weren't the most original ideas, though I don't know that originality is as big a selling point as beginning writers may think it is. But, the real problem I see with these stories when I look at them now is that they are, for the most part, shallow. I don't feel anything when I read them. Writing them took no emotional effort, and I wasn't risking revealing anything about myself by writing any of these stories.
One thing that used to worry me as a beginning writer was the question, "Are people going to think I'm writing about myself?" My protagonists were a fairly shallow bunch because their problems were surface problems: How to I find the murderer? How do I fix my space ship? My characters didn't possess any deep emotional problems. One thing that used to hold me back was the question, "What if my mother reads this?"
After I had written some of these shallow stories, Orson Scott Card visited the writer's group I was a member of and said something that I thought was profound. He said that the people who wrote stories only because they wanted to be writers weren't likely to accomplish much. He thought that the really good writers were people who were writing as if they were on some higher mission--they were trying to change the world with their words. This was eye-opening, and I felt like he'd really pegged me. I was writing mainly because I wanted to be a writer. I wasn't trying to change the world with my stories.
In the following years, I decided I would start writing protagonists who championed aspects of my world views. My stories took on a decidedly political slant, reflecting my libertarian leanings. I also started writing stories that were atheist manifestos, ridiculing every aspect of religion.
Those stories sucked, for the most part. They weren't as petty as my earliest writing, but they were still shallow. They were intellectual arguments pounded into something roughly resembling fiction. I was putting my opinions out there so the world could benefit from my wisdom, but the stories were still insufferably trivial. I was writing about things I spent a lot of time thinking about, but my stories didn't have any heart.
Then, in 1998, I went to Odyssey and ran into the buzz saw that is Harlan Ellison. Harlan tosses out critiques like they were hand-grenades. I left Odyssey convinced that no one would ever want to read my little political and religious diatribes. I came home certain I had no talent, and that no word I ever wrote would be published.
It was the single most important event on my path to becoming a writer. In the aftermath of hurricane Ellison, my writing portfolio looked like New Orleans after Katrina. Everything I'd written before, three novels and about 50 short stories, had been blown over. I didn't think anything could be salvaged. Yet, after a few weeks, I found that I wanted to write more stories. I knew I would never sell them. The new ideas I was having were twisted and unmarketable but I didn't care. I was having this vision of a guy running around a flooded city looking for the perfect place to shoot up heroin and die. Another idea I had was of a city of immortals where life had become so utterly meaningless that people had to commit atrocious acts such as rape and murder just to feel the slightest emotion. Another story I had in mind had a terrorist protagonist; it made perfect sense in his world to change things by blowing up a truck in a busy location. I don't think I could have written these stories before Odyssey. I was still invested then in writing stories I could sell, even though I wasn't, you know, selling them. But, post Odyssey, I figured, what the hell. My Mom isn't going to be reading these stories because they aren't going to ever be published.
I don't expect readers here to be familiar with every short story I've ever published, but all of those dark and disturbing visions went on to become my earliest professional sales. Before Odyssey, I had been writing stories for the intellectual challenge. After I had surrendered hope of publication, I began writing stories for the same reason some people pick at scabs. I was no longer writing about my beliefs. I was writing stories about my demons. I was writing about subjects that made me uncomfortable, ideas that kept me awake at night. Before, I wrote stories about atheism. Now, I was writing about that haunting feeling I sometimes get late at night when I know with all my heart that I'm going to die and I will simply vanish from this world and nothing waits on the other side. Or, worse: something does wait on the other side.
I'm a man who has suffered through two divorces and lost a third love to cancer. So, again and again, I write about love, despite my inner fears that people will read these stories and think, "Wow, no wonder women leave him." As a boy, I witnessed the casting out of demons in my fundamentalist church, and remember the preacher warning how the demons might try to get into us if our faith wasn't strong enough. I reached down and found this terror when I wrote "Eater," a story about demon possession (as yet unpublished). The horror the hero feels as his own soul is pushed out through his pores originated in my nightmares thirty plus years ago.
I don't purposefully set out to offend, disturb, or shock with my writing. Yet, I find that my most powerful writing comes when I turn my stories over to the demons within me and let them create scenarios that disturb, offend, and shock me.
An ex-wife once recommended that I seek therapy to deal with the emotional trauma of my fundamentalist upbringing. It's possible that there might be lasting psychological damage from telling a ten year old he's at risk of demon possession, or telling a twelve year old that he is permanently and irrevocably damned. To which I can only say, "Thank God for lasting psychological damage!"
The worst things that have ever happened to me become the soil in which the best stories I've ever written have grown. I've been lucky enough not to banish the devils that visit me in the dark moments; I've learned to embrace them, to kiss them on the lips in gratitude for the stories they bring me.
Your angels may bring you pleasant dreams, but it's your demons that will bring you art.
Still, I feel like any writer is going to benefit from pausing for a moment to consider why they are writing what they are writing. You can be a very talented writer with a real flare for poetic prose, but if you are only picking trivial subjects to write about, you might find your career going nowhere.
My earliest attempts to write SF and Fantasy showed some technical promise. I could plot; I could write dialogue; I had good instincts for writing action and knowing how to draw the reader along from one event to the next. But, all of those early stories feel hollow to me now. They are mostly "nifty idea" stories. Wouldn't it be nifty if all reality was computer generated? Wouldn't it be nifty if the Greek gods were working at the local television station? Wouldn't it be nifty to find life on Mars? In retrospect, these weren't the most original ideas, though I don't know that originality is as big a selling point as beginning writers may think it is. But, the real problem I see with these stories when I look at them now is that they are, for the most part, shallow. I don't feel anything when I read them. Writing them took no emotional effort, and I wasn't risking revealing anything about myself by writing any of these stories.
One thing that used to worry me as a beginning writer was the question, "Are people going to think I'm writing about myself?" My protagonists were a fairly shallow bunch because their problems were surface problems: How to I find the murderer? How do I fix my space ship? My characters didn't possess any deep emotional problems. One thing that used to hold me back was the question, "What if my mother reads this?"
After I had written some of these shallow stories, Orson Scott Card visited the writer's group I was a member of and said something that I thought was profound. He said that the people who wrote stories only because they wanted to be writers weren't likely to accomplish much. He thought that the really good writers were people who were writing as if they were on some higher mission--they were trying to change the world with their words. This was eye-opening, and I felt like he'd really pegged me. I was writing mainly because I wanted to be a writer. I wasn't trying to change the world with my stories.
In the following years, I decided I would start writing protagonists who championed aspects of my world views. My stories took on a decidedly political slant, reflecting my libertarian leanings. I also started writing stories that were atheist manifestos, ridiculing every aspect of religion.
Those stories sucked, for the most part. They weren't as petty as my earliest writing, but they were still shallow. They were intellectual arguments pounded into something roughly resembling fiction. I was putting my opinions out there so the world could benefit from my wisdom, but the stories were still insufferably trivial. I was writing about things I spent a lot of time thinking about, but my stories didn't have any heart.
Then, in 1998, I went to Odyssey and ran into the buzz saw that is Harlan Ellison. Harlan tosses out critiques like they were hand-grenades. I left Odyssey convinced that no one would ever want to read my little political and religious diatribes. I came home certain I had no talent, and that no word I ever wrote would be published.
It was the single most important event on my path to becoming a writer. In the aftermath of hurricane Ellison, my writing portfolio looked like New Orleans after Katrina. Everything I'd written before, three novels and about 50 short stories, had been blown over. I didn't think anything could be salvaged. Yet, after a few weeks, I found that I wanted to write more stories. I knew I would never sell them. The new ideas I was having were twisted and unmarketable but I didn't care. I was having this vision of a guy running around a flooded city looking for the perfect place to shoot up heroin and die. Another idea I had was of a city of immortals where life had become so utterly meaningless that people had to commit atrocious acts such as rape and murder just to feel the slightest emotion. Another story I had in mind had a terrorist protagonist; it made perfect sense in his world to change things by blowing up a truck in a busy location. I don't think I could have written these stories before Odyssey. I was still invested then in writing stories I could sell, even though I wasn't, you know, selling them. But, post Odyssey, I figured, what the hell. My Mom isn't going to be reading these stories because they aren't going to ever be published.
I don't expect readers here to be familiar with every short story I've ever published, but all of those dark and disturbing visions went on to become my earliest professional sales. Before Odyssey, I had been writing stories for the intellectual challenge. After I had surrendered hope of publication, I began writing stories for the same reason some people pick at scabs. I was no longer writing about my beliefs. I was writing stories about my demons. I was writing about subjects that made me uncomfortable, ideas that kept me awake at night. Before, I wrote stories about atheism. Now, I was writing about that haunting feeling I sometimes get late at night when I know with all my heart that I'm going to die and I will simply vanish from this world and nothing waits on the other side. Or, worse: something does wait on the other side.
I'm a man who has suffered through two divorces and lost a third love to cancer. So, again and again, I write about love, despite my inner fears that people will read these stories and think, "Wow, no wonder women leave him." As a boy, I witnessed the casting out of demons in my fundamentalist church, and remember the preacher warning how the demons might try to get into us if our faith wasn't strong enough. I reached down and found this terror when I wrote "Eater," a story about demon possession (as yet unpublished). The horror the hero feels as his own soul is pushed out through his pores originated in my nightmares thirty plus years ago.
I don't purposefully set out to offend, disturb, or shock with my writing. Yet, I find that my most powerful writing comes when I turn my stories over to the demons within me and let them create scenarios that disturb, offend, and shock me.
An ex-wife once recommended that I seek therapy to deal with the emotional trauma of my fundamentalist upbringing. It's possible that there might be lasting psychological damage from telling a ten year old he's at risk of demon possession, or telling a twelve year old that he is permanently and irrevocably damned. To which I can only say, "Thank God for lasting psychological damage!"
The worst things that have ever happened to me become the soil in which the best stories I've ever written have grown. I've been lucky enough not to banish the devils that visit me in the dark moments; I've learned to embrace them, to kiss them on the lips in gratitude for the stories they bring me.
Your angels may bring you pleasant dreams, but it's your demons that will bring you art.
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