My senior year is the year of high school I remember the least. Go figure.
It's sometimes a wonder to me that I graduated valedictorian that year because I was not focused on school at all (for all you other students who worked and sweated for hours to get the high grades you got while I did whatever I wanted when I wanted to, I'm sorry.) What happened, though, was that in my previous years, I had filled up so many credits that the only classes I had to take was that English/History block in the morning and I was done for the day. Afterwards, I went to the gym, went out to eat, took a couple Creative Writing classes, or went home to nap. Nights were often for hanging out.
Truth is, I had more freedom that year than I've had my whole life. And I did nothing valuable with it. Hence, remembering anything I did, including English class (which these posts have been centered on) is hard to do.
There was one thing in English that is hard to forget: it was the third time that I read George Orwell's 1984. Man, was I ever sick of that book.
I first read it when I was fifteen on a friend's recommendation. I was blown away; it was powerful, deep, terrifying, traumatizing, and absolutely broke my heart at the end. I thought was Orwell was a genius and had written a well-thought out plan.
Then my sophomore year, we read it again and again, the writing was just as good as I remembered it. Orwell had a way of transporting his audience into his dark and haunting world and the ideas he shared were clear. You knew what he was saying. I was still upset by the ending but for reasons I couldn't explain, I felt dissatisfied this time around.
My senior year, I read it the third time and I understood why I hate this book. My beliefs changed or solidified from the time I was fifteen until I turned eighteen. When I was fifteen, I was new to politics and why people behave the way they do. My own religious convictions weren't strong then. And my own skills in comprehending and analyzing literature weren't so strong either. I had three years to develop all those things, and though all my knowledge and beliefs were still that of a novice (heck, they still are), I understood myself better and I understood that I just couldn't believe this story anymore.
I understand that Orwell was telling a story of the perfect dystopia and how it would destroy the human race. But while in my Freshman year, when I believed that a dystopia like that could exist, in my Senior year, I was completely convinced that the dystopia has to fall apart. It can't stay organized long enough to be so complete as to cover the world as Orwell suggested here.
I'm not going to go into why I believe that here. I just thought it worth noting how time really can change your experience with stories. A fun example is Animorphs by K.A. Applegate, my favorite books series when I was a kid. I thought they were the greatest things to ever hit the bookshelves. I came back to reread them when I was in college and shook my head. They were still fun but MAN were there flaws and weirdness in the story I hadn't appreciated then.
The thing is, I grew up and with it, so did my reading tastes and how I would accept a story. Now the sign of greatness as I see it is reading a story you liked when you were younger, read it again and discover that it's even better than you thought. One such case for me is The Lord of the Rings, which was infinitely better the second time I read it.
How about you? What stories have you come across that became better or worse with your next rereadings (or viewings, if it's a movie or play, if that's more your cup of tea?)
Friday, March 30, 2012
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
High School: Part 4
Junior year rolled around. I went to a new school and had the best English class of my whole high school career (second best overall--my college Children's Literature class is a really tough one to beat.)
Part of it was the unique situation this school was in. One thing this school tried out was combining classes together, so instead of one-hour periods of individual classes we would have two-hour blocks of molded subjects. In this case, History and English were taught in the same two hours in whatever fashion the teachers saw fit.
This was a really cool decision as I saw it. Part of the reason why so many dislike classics is that they just don't get what's going on. And it can be the smallest things that drive you nuts. When I first read Pride and Prejudice when I was a senior, Jane Austen kept talking about how they'd travel in all these different carriages. Every time she'd bring up a post chaise or chaise lounge, I'd be gritting my teeth and wondering what these stupid things were. It wasn't until the end of the book when I realized that naming these different carriages is similar to what we do with automobiles. They're not just vehicles, they're vans, trucks, cars, semis, etc. Once I could wrap my mind around the concept, I managed to enjoy the rest of the story.
Sometimes it's the prose that bothers them (why do those old blowhards take three pages to say something you could cover in one paragraph?) Other times it's not being able to wrap your mind around the customs or societal expectations. And then there are important events that were well-known to the authors and their audiences at the time but we today have no clue about.
Combining History and English was a great way to alleviate some of those issues that we didn't understand (except for the longwinded prose. There's no cure for that.)
So we'd read "Rip Van Winkle" and "The Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin" while studying up on Colonial Times, The Great Gatsby for the Roarin' Twenties, segments of The Grapes of Wrath for the Great Depression (and was I ever happy that it was only segments!), and The Crucible for the Cold War and McCarthyism portion.
There a couple times our teacher challenged us heavily with nonfiction: Founding Brothers while studying up on the Founding Fathers and Wings of Morning for World War II nearly brought me to tears at the time. But boy, did I ever learn stuff that had never been covered in any class before or since!
My favorite, though, was when we got around to the Civil War. This is not my favorite time of American History; I am a much bigger fan of the Revolutionary War. However, it was while studying this portion that we were given Mark Twain's The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. This was by far the best reading experience I had the whole time I was in high school. It's funny, it's adventurous, and it has a whole lot more heart than I ever would have imagined. (I'd read Tom Sawyer when I was young. I liked it but it was also very forgettable; I still don't understand why it has more adaptations than Huckleberry Finn. Sawyer is brain candy; Finn is a saga.)
This way of learning worked. Even though I didn't like all of these books, I found more meaning in even the worst stories we read than in all the other books combined in all my prior years before then.
Part of it was the unique situation this school was in. One thing this school tried out was combining classes together, so instead of one-hour periods of individual classes we would have two-hour blocks of molded subjects. In this case, History and English were taught in the same two hours in whatever fashion the teachers saw fit.
This was a really cool decision as I saw it. Part of the reason why so many dislike classics is that they just don't get what's going on. And it can be the smallest things that drive you nuts. When I first read Pride and Prejudice when I was a senior, Jane Austen kept talking about how they'd travel in all these different carriages. Every time she'd bring up a post chaise or chaise lounge, I'd be gritting my teeth and wondering what these stupid things were. It wasn't until the end of the book when I realized that naming these different carriages is similar to what we do with automobiles. They're not just vehicles, they're vans, trucks, cars, semis, etc. Once I could wrap my mind around the concept, I managed to enjoy the rest of the story.
Sometimes it's the prose that bothers them (why do those old blowhards take three pages to say something you could cover in one paragraph?) Other times it's not being able to wrap your mind around the customs or societal expectations. And then there are important events that were well-known to the authors and their audiences at the time but we today have no clue about.
Combining History and English was a great way to alleviate some of those issues that we didn't understand (except for the longwinded prose. There's no cure for that.)
So we'd read "Rip Van Winkle" and "The Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin" while studying up on Colonial Times, The Great Gatsby for the Roarin' Twenties, segments of The Grapes of Wrath for the Great Depression (and was I ever happy that it was only segments!), and The Crucible for the Cold War and McCarthyism portion.
There a couple times our teacher challenged us heavily with nonfiction: Founding Brothers while studying up on the Founding Fathers and Wings of Morning for World War II nearly brought me to tears at the time. But boy, did I ever learn stuff that had never been covered in any class before or since!
My favorite, though, was when we got around to the Civil War. This is not my favorite time of American History; I am a much bigger fan of the Revolutionary War. However, it was while studying this portion that we were given Mark Twain's The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. This was by far the best reading experience I had the whole time I was in high school. It's funny, it's adventurous, and it has a whole lot more heart than I ever would have imagined. (I'd read Tom Sawyer when I was young. I liked it but it was also very forgettable; I still don't understand why it has more adaptations than Huckleberry Finn. Sawyer is brain candy; Finn is a saga.)
This way of learning worked. Even though I didn't like all of these books, I found more meaning in even the worst stories we read than in all the other books combined in all my prior years before then.
Friday, March 23, 2012
The Hunger Games
I'm not one who starts in on the latest thing right as it comes out. I've saved myself a lot of time and money (at least, a little more time and money) that way.
I use the two crazes that went on in Junior High, years and years ago. The two hottest stories that went on were Harry Potter and Pokemon. And I put both off forever and got a lot of crap from the other kids because of it. But it wasn't because I didn't want to get involved in either one; although I couldn't express it at the time, I was waiting to see which one had staying power.
Pokemon was nuts. Everybody was buying cards, using recess time to trade their cards or play a quick game with the cards, lunchtime chatter was on all the different Pokemon available, and the cartoon was what over half of them were watching on Saturday morning. And I just couldn't get into it. The whole thing just looked like a fad, much like the Power Rangers. I loved Power Rangers when I was a kid, and even though I'll go back and shudder at the terrible acting and storylines, I can't bring myself to properly hate them because they were cool when I was little. But it was still a fad and I have no interest sitting through even ten seconds of it now. The Pokemon craze eventually did die down by the time I reached high school and I still don't feel bad that I never got into it.
Harry Potter, though, had staying power. It was when I realized that even the grownups were reading these novels. I don't need to go into this. We all lived through it. I started when the first three books were all there was and I eagerly anticipated the fourth. And its popularity never diminished. Quite the opposite. It kept growing bigger and bigger until an avalanche of Potterphiles swept the literature world and spilled across all the different industries, including film, toys, games, etc. And it's still going.
All this just to explain why it took me so long to finally read The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins, which my sister had been pushing on me and many others had recommended these past months.
I admit, despite all the positive reviews, it was hard to work up any interest in the series. The concept is not new. Game shows gone lethal has already been tackled before. The Running Man by Stephen King is the one that comes immediately to mind. Beyond that, we have histories of gladiator matches and those were nasty, grisly affairs. I knew that no matter whether the heroine made it out alive or not, I was still going to be miserable because of all the death and tragedy that went on before. So why would I want to read another one of these depressing, violent stories?
What did it was that my friend loaned me a copy of his book and that did the trick. I tend to read borrowed books first, whether they're from libraries or friends, on the belief that I can read my own books any time but I only have a limited time to read these other peoples books. (This theory falls apart when I end up borrowing too many books that I never get around to my own.)
So I had this borrowed books and only a couple days to get through it, so I just plunged in.
It was better than I thought it would be. Katniss is a remarkable character with a lot of strength. I loved seeing how her mind worked and what she did to survive and even strike a blow at the Capitol at the Capitol. I thought the story was intelligent, gripping, and it certainly was heartfelt. I loved how she kept her humanity throughout. What really sold it to me was how her family is at the center of her motivation to stay alive.
If there was one thing that bothered me, it's how callous she is towards the men in her life. I think she deserves the problems with the love interests that are undoubtedly forthcoming in the second book, Catching Fire, but that's okay. It doesn't ruin the story but rather adds to my interest in what will happen in the sequels.
Now, will this story have staying power? Hard to say. The Hunger Games definitely speaks to our time and generation. We're at a point in our society where our minds are in survival mode. The economy doesn't look like it's getting any better, there is still terrorism out there, and the natural disasters from hurricanes to earthquakes are increasing and getting more dramatic (not to mention aiming closer to home.) It's a scary time in our lives and Collins has created a book that speaks to these fears we have and how even at its most desperate, it gives us hope that even though the way is narrow, there is still a way to rise above the tragedy.
Will it speak to future generations? We'll have to wait and find out. I'll be paying close attention to that.
I use the two crazes that went on in Junior High, years and years ago. The two hottest stories that went on were Harry Potter and Pokemon. And I put both off forever and got a lot of crap from the other kids because of it. But it wasn't because I didn't want to get involved in either one; although I couldn't express it at the time, I was waiting to see which one had staying power.
Pokemon was nuts. Everybody was buying cards, using recess time to trade their cards or play a quick game with the cards, lunchtime chatter was on all the different Pokemon available, and the cartoon was what over half of them were watching on Saturday morning. And I just couldn't get into it. The whole thing just looked like a fad, much like the Power Rangers. I loved Power Rangers when I was a kid, and even though I'll go back and shudder at the terrible acting and storylines, I can't bring myself to properly hate them because they were cool when I was little. But it was still a fad and I have no interest sitting through even ten seconds of it now. The Pokemon craze eventually did die down by the time I reached high school and I still don't feel bad that I never got into it.
Harry Potter, though, had staying power. It was when I realized that even the grownups were reading these novels. I don't need to go into this. We all lived through it. I started when the first three books were all there was and I eagerly anticipated the fourth. And its popularity never diminished. Quite the opposite. It kept growing bigger and bigger until an avalanche of Potterphiles swept the literature world and spilled across all the different industries, including film, toys, games, etc. And it's still going.
All this just to explain why it took me so long to finally read The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins, which my sister had been pushing on me and many others had recommended these past months.
I admit, despite all the positive reviews, it was hard to work up any interest in the series. The concept is not new. Game shows gone lethal has already been tackled before. The Running Man by Stephen King is the one that comes immediately to mind. Beyond that, we have histories of gladiator matches and those were nasty, grisly affairs. I knew that no matter whether the heroine made it out alive or not, I was still going to be miserable because of all the death and tragedy that went on before. So why would I want to read another one of these depressing, violent stories?
What did it was that my friend loaned me a copy of his book and that did the trick. I tend to read borrowed books first, whether they're from libraries or friends, on the belief that I can read my own books any time but I only have a limited time to read these other peoples books. (This theory falls apart when I end up borrowing too many books that I never get around to my own.)
So I had this borrowed books and only a couple days to get through it, so I just plunged in.
It was better than I thought it would be. Katniss is a remarkable character with a lot of strength. I loved seeing how her mind worked and what she did to survive and even strike a blow at the Capitol at the Capitol. I thought the story was intelligent, gripping, and it certainly was heartfelt. I loved how she kept her humanity throughout. What really sold it to me was how her family is at the center of her motivation to stay alive.
If there was one thing that bothered me, it's how callous she is towards the men in her life. I think she deserves the problems with the love interests that are undoubtedly forthcoming in the second book, Catching Fire, but that's okay. It doesn't ruin the story but rather adds to my interest in what will happen in the sequels.
Now, will this story have staying power? Hard to say. The Hunger Games definitely speaks to our time and generation. We're at a point in our society where our minds are in survival mode. The economy doesn't look like it's getting any better, there is still terrorism out there, and the natural disasters from hurricanes to earthquakes are increasing and getting more dramatic (not to mention aiming closer to home.) It's a scary time in our lives and Collins has created a book that speaks to these fears we have and how even at its most desperate, it gives us hope that even though the way is narrow, there is still a way to rise above the tragedy.
Will it speak to future generations? We'll have to wait and find out. I'll be paying close attention to that.
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
High School: Part 3
Can other peoples' opinions affect how much you love or hate a book?
We're not leaving my sophomore year of high school just yet. The last project of the year and if I remember, this affected our grade more than our final, was on the Pulitzer Prize winners. All students got a list of the Pulitzer winners and we each had to pick one of those books and do a presentation on them one month later. I chose The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck, because I knew my parents had that one sitting on their bookshelves so I didn't have to break my neck looking for it at the public libraries or buy it at the bookstore.
Now, my teacher did warn me, "You better like that book because it is my favorite novel of all time."
I saluted her and went to work.
The truth was, I liked it. Sure, it wasn't the greatest story I'd ever read. I didn't care for the pastor at all and the problems that some of the Joad family members had were their own fault. But overall, it was a very touching story about survival in desperate times and how to keep hope alive when all the forces of earth are against you. Ma Joad and Rosasharn were some really spectacular ladies to me.
I worked harder than I should have on my presentation but I didn't want to disappoint my teacher. I recognized that she was holding me to a higher standard than the other students because of the book I'd chosen and I tried to reflect that. I modeled a little of my presentation off one of the other students and chose to include the same type of humor he'd had.
It worked. I had the students giggling for seven minutes while I think I did a decent (for a high schooler) job of advocating the work. But one of the jokes really rubbed my teacher the wrong way. Can't remember what I said but she did something she hadn't done to any of the students before or since: interrupted me in the middle of a sentence. "You are not a book critic," she started and for a minute chewed me up one side and down the other. I don't think the class had ever been so quiet; everybody's eyes were on me, nobody blinking, and I could feel my face turning red. I stuttered and stumbled for the next two minutes finishing up, but it was wrecked. The big bang I planned to end on became a whimper of despair. I went back to my seat head down and didn't even listen to the rest of the presentations that day.
Some of my peers commiserated with me. Students that I never really spoke to assured me I'd done a good job and didn't know what stick had been shoved up our teacher's butt. Nevertheless, my final grade for the class went down a whole letter (A to a B; big deal.) I honestly didn't care about the grade. I already knew that her grading system was skewed, more so than any other teacher I'd had. What got me was being embarrassed in front of the whole class. Public speaking terrified me back then and being humiliated like this was the worst. I didn't forgive her for months afterwards.
(There was a good side to this. I've never had the same fear of public speaking since. I recognized that yeah, I got burned, but it didn't wreck my life. Indeed, I ended up taking Public Speaking classes in college and have been invited numerous times in my church to speak to the congregation. I'm still not a great public speaker but it's not the worst thing that could ever happen to me.)
I'm not sharing this for any pity. In the big scheme of things, this embarrassment was nothing. I've had worse experiences that are far more meaningful than this will ever be.
The reason I share this is that before the presentation, I had nothing but good things to say about The Grapes of Wrath. I was telling whoever would listen that this was actually a pretty good book. Well-written and thought-out, compelling characters, what-have-you. After the tongue-lashing, the rest of high school, I did a 180-degree turn and bad-mouthed The Grapes of Wrath like none other. "Stupidest book I ever had to read in school," I said over and over. I harped on the shortcomings and said the Pulitzer had to be a joke to let something like this get any attention.
It wasn't until college and I had time to think about it when I remembered how it really was. I had enjoyed The Grapes of Wrath until that presentation. It was the first time I realized that the reason I hated The Grapes of Wrath had nothing to do with the book itself; I hated the memories that were associated with that book. It was this realization that brought to seek out more of Steinbeck's works to see if he was better or worse than I remembered. It was how I discovered Cannery Row and still remember that as one of the most pleasant stories I wish I could tell.
The reason I share this is because we do associate stories with our real life experiences. I don't know why this is, I'm just saying that it exists. It's a double-edge sword, but just like The Grapes of Wrath is tied in my mind to a bad memory, there are many other books out there that are tied to good memories. It's why I keep reading at the sacrifice of other fun things I could be doing.
Think back on your own experiences with books you read. Have you ever had a story tie in to your life in such a way, for good or ill?
We're not leaving my sophomore year of high school just yet. The last project of the year and if I remember, this affected our grade more than our final, was on the Pulitzer Prize winners. All students got a list of the Pulitzer winners and we each had to pick one of those books and do a presentation on them one month later. I chose The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck, because I knew my parents had that one sitting on their bookshelves so I didn't have to break my neck looking for it at the public libraries or buy it at the bookstore.
Now, my teacher did warn me, "You better like that book because it is my favorite novel of all time."
I saluted her and went to work.
The truth was, I liked it. Sure, it wasn't the greatest story I'd ever read. I didn't care for the pastor at all and the problems that some of the Joad family members had were their own fault. But overall, it was a very touching story about survival in desperate times and how to keep hope alive when all the forces of earth are against you. Ma Joad and Rosasharn were some really spectacular ladies to me.
I worked harder than I should have on my presentation but I didn't want to disappoint my teacher. I recognized that she was holding me to a higher standard than the other students because of the book I'd chosen and I tried to reflect that. I modeled a little of my presentation off one of the other students and chose to include the same type of humor he'd had.
It worked. I had the students giggling for seven minutes while I think I did a decent (for a high schooler) job of advocating the work. But one of the jokes really rubbed my teacher the wrong way. Can't remember what I said but she did something she hadn't done to any of the students before or since: interrupted me in the middle of a sentence. "You are not a book critic," she started and for a minute chewed me up one side and down the other. I don't think the class had ever been so quiet; everybody's eyes were on me, nobody blinking, and I could feel my face turning red. I stuttered and stumbled for the next two minutes finishing up, but it was wrecked. The big bang I planned to end on became a whimper of despair. I went back to my seat head down and didn't even listen to the rest of the presentations that day.
Some of my peers commiserated with me. Students that I never really spoke to assured me I'd done a good job and didn't know what stick had been shoved up our teacher's butt. Nevertheless, my final grade for the class went down a whole letter (A to a B; big deal.) I honestly didn't care about the grade. I already knew that her grading system was skewed, more so than any other teacher I'd had. What got me was being embarrassed in front of the whole class. Public speaking terrified me back then and being humiliated like this was the worst. I didn't forgive her for months afterwards.
(There was a good side to this. I've never had the same fear of public speaking since. I recognized that yeah, I got burned, but it didn't wreck my life. Indeed, I ended up taking Public Speaking classes in college and have been invited numerous times in my church to speak to the congregation. I'm still not a great public speaker but it's not the worst thing that could ever happen to me.)
I'm not sharing this for any pity. In the big scheme of things, this embarrassment was nothing. I've had worse experiences that are far more meaningful than this will ever be.
The reason I share this is that before the presentation, I had nothing but good things to say about The Grapes of Wrath. I was telling whoever would listen that this was actually a pretty good book. Well-written and thought-out, compelling characters, what-have-you. After the tongue-lashing, the rest of high school, I did a 180-degree turn and bad-mouthed The Grapes of Wrath like none other. "Stupidest book I ever had to read in school," I said over and over. I harped on the shortcomings and said the Pulitzer had to be a joke to let something like this get any attention.
It wasn't until college and I had time to think about it when I remembered how it really was. I had enjoyed The Grapes of Wrath until that presentation. It was the first time I realized that the reason I hated The Grapes of Wrath had nothing to do with the book itself; I hated the memories that were associated with that book. It was this realization that brought to seek out more of Steinbeck's works to see if he was better or worse than I remembered. It was how I discovered Cannery Row and still remember that as one of the most pleasant stories I wish I could tell.
The reason I share this is because we do associate stories with our real life experiences. I don't know why this is, I'm just saying that it exists. It's a double-edge sword, but just like The Grapes of Wrath is tied in my mind to a bad memory, there are many other books out there that are tied to good memories. It's why I keep reading at the sacrifice of other fun things I could be doing.
Think back on your own experiences with books you read. Have you ever had a story tie in to your life in such a way, for good or ill?
Friday, March 16, 2012
High School: Part 2
My sophomore year in English was the most ridiculous in some senses. I liked the teacher from the first day; she was funny, energetic, and very outspoken. I admired that.
This was also the class that I had the most issues with, which also started from day one.
With my Honors classes, we weren't just stuck reading whatever sadistic book the teacher unleashed upon our fragile minds, we were also expected to do some extracurricular reading. Easy enough for me since I was going to do that anyway. She wanted us to read 600 pages per quarter. Also easy. Then she dropped the bombshell: only classics and other books judged worthy of her received full credit. Others would receive half-credit.
Let me explain with the fair example: say I read a 300-page book of poetry (where you'd find one of those these days, I couldn't tell you), the teacher only gives me credit for 150 pages and I still have to read 450 pages by the end of that quarter. I call this the fair example because I can see the logic. I can read through poetry much quicker than I can read prose; I think the same rule applied with plays, which was also fair enough. Dialogue is easy to zip through, even more so than poetry.
Then she said, "I want you to challenge yourselves. That means the classics. If you read any Stephen King, Tom Clancy, John Grisham, or anybody like that, half-credit. And all sci-fi and fantasy receives half-credit."
And thus began my hatred towards English classes.
Despite what I wrote in my last post, I didn't mind my English class at all freshman year. I just didn't think the question for why we read the books we did was ever answered satisfactorily. But what our teacher did from day one soured me ever since towards the English curriculum from high school to college. While most teachers have not been as blunt as her, it doesn't take much scratching on the surface to see that they have the same opinions. And it's just not fair to the authors or readers.
You know what's funny about classics? Some of the authors like Charles Dickens and Mark Twain were hugely popular in their day. Their works weren't "classics" until the next generation grew up and continued to support their stories. So what gives any teacher the right to say which of today's popular or unpopular books are as "classic" as anything that Austen or Hugo ever wrote?
Just with her examples: I didn't start reading Stephen King until the next year but I am convinced that years from now, teachers are going to force students to plow through the unabridged version of The Stand. I haven't enjoyed everything that John Grisham wrote but I can't deny that this is a very skilled author who has crafted intelligent plots and gripping characters time and time again from his first novel. As for Tom Clancy, I've only read two of his books and they were two of the most challenging stories to get through. Incredible stories but challenging. How many writers can claim to have put so much depth and research into a story as him?
One of the great benefits to a good English class are to have students that enjoy reading. When they find books they like, they will likely go on to find other books that they'll enjoy and encourage their friends to do the same. But this half-credit nonsense was a form of punishment for liking the wrong type of books. It's not the only punishment that exists but it was one symptom of what's wrong with American education. If a student enjoys something but their teacher tells them that what they're doing is bad, that student is likely going to hate reading (and I have a story for that next time.)
I'm not even going to start on the hatred towards sci-fi/fantasy. That would take a dozen posts and some things you just learn to shrug off. Besides, it didn't affect me overmuch. I was halfway through the Wheel of Time series by that point and one of those books easily got me all the required page points, even with half-credit.
This was also the class that I had the most issues with, which also started from day one.
With my Honors classes, we weren't just stuck reading whatever sadistic book the teacher unleashed upon our fragile minds, we were also expected to do some extracurricular reading. Easy enough for me since I was going to do that anyway. She wanted us to read 600 pages per quarter. Also easy. Then she dropped the bombshell: only classics and other books judged worthy of her received full credit. Others would receive half-credit.
Let me explain with the fair example: say I read a 300-page book of poetry (where you'd find one of those these days, I couldn't tell you), the teacher only gives me credit for 150 pages and I still have to read 450 pages by the end of that quarter. I call this the fair example because I can see the logic. I can read through poetry much quicker than I can read prose; I think the same rule applied with plays, which was also fair enough. Dialogue is easy to zip through, even more so than poetry.
Then she said, "I want you to challenge yourselves. That means the classics. If you read any Stephen King, Tom Clancy, John Grisham, or anybody like that, half-credit. And all sci-fi and fantasy receives half-credit."
And thus began my hatred towards English classes.
Despite what I wrote in my last post, I didn't mind my English class at all freshman year. I just didn't think the question for why we read the books we did was ever answered satisfactorily. But what our teacher did from day one soured me ever since towards the English curriculum from high school to college. While most teachers have not been as blunt as her, it doesn't take much scratching on the surface to see that they have the same opinions. And it's just not fair to the authors or readers.
You know what's funny about classics? Some of the authors like Charles Dickens and Mark Twain were hugely popular in their day. Their works weren't "classics" until the next generation grew up and continued to support their stories. So what gives any teacher the right to say which of today's popular or unpopular books are as "classic" as anything that Austen or Hugo ever wrote?
Just with her examples: I didn't start reading Stephen King until the next year but I am convinced that years from now, teachers are going to force students to plow through the unabridged version of The Stand. I haven't enjoyed everything that John Grisham wrote but I can't deny that this is a very skilled author who has crafted intelligent plots and gripping characters time and time again from his first novel. As for Tom Clancy, I've only read two of his books and they were two of the most challenging stories to get through. Incredible stories but challenging. How many writers can claim to have put so much depth and research into a story as him?
One of the great benefits to a good English class are to have students that enjoy reading. When they find books they like, they will likely go on to find other books that they'll enjoy and encourage their friends to do the same. But this half-credit nonsense was a form of punishment for liking the wrong type of books. It's not the only punishment that exists but it was one symptom of what's wrong with American education. If a student enjoys something but their teacher tells them that what they're doing is bad, that student is likely going to hate reading (and I have a story for that next time.)
I'm not even going to start on the hatred towards sci-fi/fantasy. That would take a dozen posts and some things you just learn to shrug off. Besides, it didn't affect me overmuch. I was halfway through the Wheel of Time series by that point and one of those books easily got me all the required page points, even with half-credit.
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
High School: Part 1
I started thinking about high school the other day and this disturbed me to some extent. I typically avoid that train of thought because that time is only slightly better for my mental health than junior high. But my mind went around towards that, specifically English classes. The novels were fascinating, but even more interesting to me were some of the discussions that came out of it.
I took an Honors English class my Freshman year and these are all the books I remember that our class read: Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck; Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare; Lord of the Flies by William Golding; All Quiet on the Western Front by Erich Maria Remarque; "The Most Dangerous Game" by Richard Connell; Dandelion Wine by Ray Bradbury.
Except for that last book I mentioned, all of these stories had one thing in common and halfway through, one of the girls in class vented on our teacher about it. "Why are we reading all these stories about people dying?"
Our teacher hemmed and hawed for a few minutes, then said, "I hate to break it to you, but people die."
So? I didn't say anything but I thought she'd asked a really good question and his answer did not suffice. Why were we being forced to read these awful, horrible tragedies? I was more of reader than most of the class. I actually enjoyed reading some of the stories while others in the class were bored to death with them. Many just found the SparkNotes for these books when they could.
But even though I appreciated some of the beautiful writing in some of these (I've gone on to read several of John Steinbeck's books since then and have enjoyed most of them) I was with her on the point. I already knew people died. My grandma (who was really my second mom) passed away when I was in fourth grade and I could still remember how much that had hurt then. But just because these things happen in real life, why does that mean I want to experience that painful emotion, even in a fictitious environment?
The books I read dealt with death (Harry Potter was starting to move along by that point) and I was into several sci-fi and fantasy stuff, and I grew up on mysteries. Violence is not a foreign subject. But none of them dwelt on death the way that these stories do. Romeo and Juliet (my least favorite Shakespeare play, by the way) kills off a quarter of the cast by the end; everybody dies in All Quiet; we watch 12-year-olds become murderers in Lord of the Flies; Rainsford and Zaroff are both simply cruel; and George had to be the one to put Lenny down. These are some of the most miserable tragedies ever. Why were we reading them? What were we learning? That no matter what happens or how hard the struggle is, despite careful planning or sheer will, we'll still fail?
It was so ironic every classroom has posters on the walls with slogans to tell us REACH FOR THE STARS, YOU CAN DO IT and NOTHING IS IMPOSSIBLE! while the books we were forced to read sent the complete opposite message. Far as I could tell, these authors were just mad at the world.
So why?
I can't speak for anybody else but here's what I got out of it. Except for All Quiet, every bad thing that happened was the result of each individual choices. The things that they did were senseless and showed me the type of person that I don't want to be. I was shown a list of actions that I never wanted to take and have structured my life so that I won't have to experience those things.
All Quiet was different in that the hero was stuck in a situation he couldn't escape but he still stood up and remained as honorable as he knew how to be throughout. I hope that if I was ever in a nightmare that he lived in that I would bear up as well as he did, despite knowing that death would only result.
So these books weren't a waste for me. Am I glad that I read them? Not entirely. Like I said, I can't stand Romeo and Juliet and Lord of the Flies still bothers me, even though I haven't touched the book in years. Of Mice and Men did introduce me to Steinbeck but it is nowhere being my favorite book of his. That would be Cannery Row.
The real question that goes unanswered: people have been complaining for years that the youth of America doesn't read enough. May I ask how any of the books that I was made to read encouraged us that books were a good use of our time?
I took an Honors English class my Freshman year and these are all the books I remember that our class read: Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck; Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare; Lord of the Flies by William Golding; All Quiet on the Western Front by Erich Maria Remarque; "The Most Dangerous Game" by Richard Connell; Dandelion Wine by Ray Bradbury.
Except for that last book I mentioned, all of these stories had one thing in common and halfway through, one of the girls in class vented on our teacher about it. "Why are we reading all these stories about people dying?"
Our teacher hemmed and hawed for a few minutes, then said, "I hate to break it to you, but people die."
So? I didn't say anything but I thought she'd asked a really good question and his answer did not suffice. Why were we being forced to read these awful, horrible tragedies? I was more of reader than most of the class. I actually enjoyed reading some of the stories while others in the class were bored to death with them. Many just found the SparkNotes for these books when they could.
But even though I appreciated some of the beautiful writing in some of these (I've gone on to read several of John Steinbeck's books since then and have enjoyed most of them) I was with her on the point. I already knew people died. My grandma (who was really my second mom) passed away when I was in fourth grade and I could still remember how much that had hurt then. But just because these things happen in real life, why does that mean I want to experience that painful emotion, even in a fictitious environment?
The books I read dealt with death (Harry Potter was starting to move along by that point) and I was into several sci-fi and fantasy stuff, and I grew up on mysteries. Violence is not a foreign subject. But none of them dwelt on death the way that these stories do. Romeo and Juliet (my least favorite Shakespeare play, by the way) kills off a quarter of the cast by the end; everybody dies in All Quiet; we watch 12-year-olds become murderers in Lord of the Flies; Rainsford and Zaroff are both simply cruel; and George had to be the one to put Lenny down. These are some of the most miserable tragedies ever. Why were we reading them? What were we learning? That no matter what happens or how hard the struggle is, despite careful planning or sheer will, we'll still fail?
It was so ironic every classroom has posters on the walls with slogans to tell us REACH FOR THE STARS, YOU CAN DO IT and NOTHING IS IMPOSSIBLE! while the books we were forced to read sent the complete opposite message. Far as I could tell, these authors were just mad at the world.
So why?
I can't speak for anybody else but here's what I got out of it. Except for All Quiet, every bad thing that happened was the result of each individual choices. The things that they did were senseless and showed me the type of person that I don't want to be. I was shown a list of actions that I never wanted to take and have structured my life so that I won't have to experience those things.
All Quiet was different in that the hero was stuck in a situation he couldn't escape but he still stood up and remained as honorable as he knew how to be throughout. I hope that if I was ever in a nightmare that he lived in that I would bear up as well as he did, despite knowing that death would only result.
So these books weren't a waste for me. Am I glad that I read them? Not entirely. Like I said, I can't stand Romeo and Juliet and Lord of the Flies still bothers me, even though I haven't touched the book in years. Of Mice and Men did introduce me to Steinbeck but it is nowhere being my favorite book of his. That would be Cannery Row.
The real question that goes unanswered: people have been complaining for years that the youth of America doesn't read enough. May I ask how any of the books that I was made to read encouraged us that books were a good use of our time?
Friday, March 9, 2012
Good Deeds and April Steed
I was appalled when I went to go see Tyler Perry's latest movie Good Deeds... appalled at my town. I was the only one in the theater! And this is the second time in a row that that's happened when I went to see a Tyler Perry flick on the big screen.
Seriously, folks, I listen to all y'all complain about how Hollywood is only selling trash and cheap plots and yet you still funnel huge amounts of money into the special effects drivel. But when an uplifting, beautiful, romantic, and an all-around civilized flick comes around, it gets ignored. You deserve the crappy, cheesy, and nasty flicks that y'all complain about!
</rant>
Good Deeds is one of Tyler Perry's best movies, and considering the high bar he set for himself over the years, this is saying a lot.
It's not one of his Madea flicks. In fact, it's not really all that funny. It's just darn good drama.
Tyler Perry plays Wesley Deeds, a successful CEO of his father's company who is miserable in his superficially perfect life. I mean, he has it all: money, a gorgeous fiancee, a reputation to be admired, and to top it off, he is a genuinely good man. You get to see him be good from the start of the film. His one flaw is that he lets his family walk over him, from his controlling mother to his angsty brother, even the reputation of his deceased father follows him around.
Thandie Newton is Lindsey Wakefield, a single mom who is hitting rock-bottom the way Will Smith did in Pursuit of Happyness. She's scared to death from the first five seconds that she's on screen and because she's so proud, she lies and lashes out at everybody who does and doesn't deserve it. I found myself admiring and pitying her at the same time.
Wesley and Lindsey cross paths several times in some pretty stressful circumstances before becoming friends, and it's a very natural friendship that follows. The romance was believeable and the family drama good, but what made this movie work for me was watching these two strangers help each other out of their own private hells and finding that they can be happy despite the whole world bearing down on them.
It's the kind of story I want to do someday... when I finally grow out of the swords and explosions I love playing around with so much.
Although speaking of genre fiction, I'm going to put in a plug for a friend who was in the same writing group as me, April Steed. She is one of the busiest writers I know of and is proving it with her website, http://www.aprilsteed.com/. She is also a much braver soul than I am. On her website, she is offering free short stories that get rotated around, plus she is doing a serial novel entitled Spider Harp, also for free reading. It seems to be strictly for the fantasy audience. Check her out; I'm sure she won't mind more people seeing her work.
Seriously, folks, I listen to all y'all complain about how Hollywood is only selling trash and cheap plots and yet you still funnel huge amounts of money into the special effects drivel. But when an uplifting, beautiful, romantic, and an all-around civilized flick comes around, it gets ignored. You deserve the crappy, cheesy, and nasty flicks that y'all complain about!
</rant>
Good Deeds is one of Tyler Perry's best movies, and considering the high bar he set for himself over the years, this is saying a lot.
It's not one of his Madea flicks. In fact, it's not really all that funny. It's just darn good drama.
Tyler Perry plays Wesley Deeds, a successful CEO of his father's company who is miserable in his superficially perfect life. I mean, he has it all: money, a gorgeous fiancee, a reputation to be admired, and to top it off, he is a genuinely good man. You get to see him be good from the start of the film. His one flaw is that he lets his family walk over him, from his controlling mother to his angsty brother, even the reputation of his deceased father follows him around.
Thandie Newton is Lindsey Wakefield, a single mom who is hitting rock-bottom the way Will Smith did in Pursuit of Happyness. She's scared to death from the first five seconds that she's on screen and because she's so proud, she lies and lashes out at everybody who does and doesn't deserve it. I found myself admiring and pitying her at the same time.
Wesley and Lindsey cross paths several times in some pretty stressful circumstances before becoming friends, and it's a very natural friendship that follows. The romance was believeable and the family drama good, but what made this movie work for me was watching these two strangers help each other out of their own private hells and finding that they can be happy despite the whole world bearing down on them.
It's the kind of story I want to do someday... when I finally grow out of the swords and explosions I love playing around with so much.
Although speaking of genre fiction, I'm going to put in a plug for a friend who was in the same writing group as me, April Steed. She is one of the busiest writers I know of and is proving it with her website, http://www.aprilsteed.com/. She is also a much braver soul than I am. On her website, she is offering free short stories that get rotated around, plus she is doing a serial novel entitled Spider Harp, also for free reading. It seems to be strictly for the fantasy audience. Check her out; I'm sure she won't mind more people seeing her work.
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
The Recap
So last month I read Armor by John Steakley, which was a fantastic story and I still recommend it as a great story for anybody interested in military sci-fi. Because I'm somewhat compulsive, I had to find out more about this guy's work and eventually, I ran across his website, johnsteakley.com and disovered that he died in 2010. This is a shame but from what I gathered, he had a good life and what more can you ask for yourself?
Anyways, they offered the first eight pages of his manuscript for Armor 2, his planned sequel to Armor. While this story would never be finished, I was intrigued to at least see what sort of things he had been planning for his uncompleted book. I'm not averse to reading incomplete works. It sometimes gets my imagination going to make up four or five different ways that that story could end. Maybe even one of them would be the ending that the author had in mind.
The eight pages were not completely bad. Steakley was very gifted with prose and had a way with grim humor. Plus, it was narrated by Jack Crow, one of the protagonists in the first book and that is never a bad idea.
The trouble was that at the end of the eight pages, I still didn't even have a taste for what the new story was going to consist of. It was because all the available manuscript had was recap of the first novel. And by the end of what I could read, there was clearly going to be at least 2-3 more pages of recap before the story actually started.
Recaps are not bad things. In fact, they're pretty necessary for series, depending on the length of the books, the amount of time between the instalments publications, or if you just happen to skip a book or two (I don't think the last is a bad thing; after all, maybe the library you go to doesn't carry volume 3 but you still want to read the series. These things happen. It's like me missing the last couple weeks of Alcatraz because I can't always fit my Monday night around that show. I still want to know what's going on when I finally make time to watch it.)
But man, there are two ways to not do recaps and Steakley does both of them in these eight pages. 1) Telling everything that happened in the previous story. All this really does is advertise the last book. I mean, the whole time I read the eight pages, all I did was reminisce how great a time I had reading the first book. It gave me no clue what this story was about. And since Armor 2 was the story I expected to be reading, I wanted to know why I wasn't given even a hint what was about to happen.
The second, (and this one is only my opinion) don't do all the recap in the first chapeter. This bothers me because I've seen it way too much. The most ready example I can think of is Animorphs by K.A. Applegate. These were among my top five favorite books when I was a kid. I eagerly anticipated each monthly instalment, but there was one thing that frustrated me to no end: the chapter 1 recap. Bored me to death, especially because it was always the same recap. Even after thirty books, I'd have to skip to chapter 2 before it started getting good.
This is where watching television can actually help writing. After all, especially for TV programs with continuous storylines, they have to do a fair amount of recap and repetition so that their audience always knows what's going on, or at least enough to know what's going on, whatever week they actually manage to flip to that channel. They are experts at doing recaps correctly.
For example, they do not recap everything that went on in prior episodes. If you needed to know everything that happened in episode one and two to make episode three make sense, they'd just have to do reruns to catch you up to speed.
The webcomic Sluggy Freelance may be the best example of how to do recaps right. It does a lot of them, obnoxiously so, but it's an easier pill to swallow because the recap itself has become its own running gag. The humor helps the recap run smooth but the other thing that Pete Abrams does so right is that he only recaps the information that's important to the current story arc. No more and no less. His timing has gotten much better over the years, too. Sometimes he starts an arc off with recap, but other times, he gives it at the very moment within the story arc where recap is necessary. (He also knows when to recap what's happening inside the current story arc when the tale threatens to be too convoluted, and that's a talent in and of itself.)
As for the first chapter recap, if it absolutely has to be done... fine. But at least seriously consider making that the prologue or a special prelude to even that. I mean, the way I see it, chapter one is where the story begins. Prologues are the set-ups for the real story and mentally, I as a reader treat it as such.
Anyways, they offered the first eight pages of his manuscript for Armor 2, his planned sequel to Armor. While this story would never be finished, I was intrigued to at least see what sort of things he had been planning for his uncompleted book. I'm not averse to reading incomplete works. It sometimes gets my imagination going to make up four or five different ways that that story could end. Maybe even one of them would be the ending that the author had in mind.
The eight pages were not completely bad. Steakley was very gifted with prose and had a way with grim humor. Plus, it was narrated by Jack Crow, one of the protagonists in the first book and that is never a bad idea.
The trouble was that at the end of the eight pages, I still didn't even have a taste for what the new story was going to consist of. It was because all the available manuscript had was recap of the first novel. And by the end of what I could read, there was clearly going to be at least 2-3 more pages of recap before the story actually started.
Recaps are not bad things. In fact, they're pretty necessary for series, depending on the length of the books, the amount of time between the instalments publications, or if you just happen to skip a book or two (I don't think the last is a bad thing; after all, maybe the library you go to doesn't carry volume 3 but you still want to read the series. These things happen. It's like me missing the last couple weeks of Alcatraz because I can't always fit my Monday night around that show. I still want to know what's going on when I finally make time to watch it.)
But man, there are two ways to not do recaps and Steakley does both of them in these eight pages. 1) Telling everything that happened in the previous story. All this really does is advertise the last book. I mean, the whole time I read the eight pages, all I did was reminisce how great a time I had reading the first book. It gave me no clue what this story was about. And since Armor 2 was the story I expected to be reading, I wanted to know why I wasn't given even a hint what was about to happen.
The second, (and this one is only my opinion) don't do all the recap in the first chapeter. This bothers me because I've seen it way too much. The most ready example I can think of is Animorphs by K.A. Applegate. These were among my top five favorite books when I was a kid. I eagerly anticipated each monthly instalment, but there was one thing that frustrated me to no end: the chapter 1 recap. Bored me to death, especially because it was always the same recap. Even after thirty books, I'd have to skip to chapter 2 before it started getting good.
This is where watching television can actually help writing. After all, especially for TV programs with continuous storylines, they have to do a fair amount of recap and repetition so that their audience always knows what's going on, or at least enough to know what's going on, whatever week they actually manage to flip to that channel. They are experts at doing recaps correctly.
For example, they do not recap everything that went on in prior episodes. If you needed to know everything that happened in episode one and two to make episode three make sense, they'd just have to do reruns to catch you up to speed.
The webcomic Sluggy Freelance may be the best example of how to do recaps right. It does a lot of them, obnoxiously so, but it's an easier pill to swallow because the recap itself has become its own running gag. The humor helps the recap run smooth but the other thing that Pete Abrams does so right is that he only recaps the information that's important to the current story arc. No more and no less. His timing has gotten much better over the years, too. Sometimes he starts an arc off with recap, but other times, he gives it at the very moment within the story arc where recap is necessary. (He also knows when to recap what's happening inside the current story arc when the tale threatens to be too convoluted, and that's a talent in and of itself.)
As for the first chapter recap, if it absolutely has to be done... fine. But at least seriously consider making that the prologue or a special prelude to even that. I mean, the way I see it, chapter one is where the story begins. Prologues are the set-ups for the real story and mentally, I as a reader treat it as such.
Friday, March 2, 2012
February's List
Most of you probably won't ever care about what I read but you know what? I'm gonna tell you anyway. At the end of each month, I'll post a list of everything I finished reading. This is an important point, the list is only about what I've finished. There are books that I started in February (like East of Eden by John Steinbeck) but put down in lieu of something else at the time. Maybe I'll go back to reading them and maybe I won't. We'll just have to see.
As for the webomics, this is not a list of all the ones I've read or am reading, but the ones that I started from the beginning and am now caught up-to-date with.
Here we go!
Novels: Armor by John Steakley
Nonfiction: This Family of Mine by Victoria Gotti; Making "Jack" Falcone by Joaquin "Jack" Garcia
Graphic Novels: The Clique by Lisa Harrison and Yishan Li; Takio by Michael Avon Oeming and Olivia Bendis; Vampire Academy adapted by Leigh Dragoon and Emma Vieceli; Bone: Tall Tales by Jeff Smith and Tom Sniegoski; The Dark Crystal: Creation Myths Vol. 1 by Brian Holguin; Batman: The Dark Knight Vol. 1: Golden Dawn by David Finch
Webcomics: Quantum Vibe by Scott Bieser with Zake Bieser; Supermassive Black Hole A* by Ben Chamberlain; Within a Mile of Home by S. Rapp and M. Knapp
As for the webomics, this is not a list of all the ones I've read or am reading, but the ones that I started from the beginning and am now caught up-to-date with.
Here we go!
Novels: Armor by John Steakley
Nonfiction: This Family of Mine by Victoria Gotti; Making "Jack" Falcone by Joaquin "Jack" Garcia
Graphic Novels: The Clique by Lisa Harrison and Yishan Li; Takio by Michael Avon Oeming and Olivia Bendis; Vampire Academy adapted by Leigh Dragoon and Emma Vieceli; Bone: Tall Tales by Jeff Smith and Tom Sniegoski; The Dark Crystal: Creation Myths Vol. 1 by Brian Holguin; Batman: The Dark Knight Vol. 1: Golden Dawn by David Finch
Webcomics: Quantum Vibe by Scott Bieser with Zake Bieser; Supermassive Black Hole A* by Ben Chamberlain; Within a Mile of Home by S. Rapp and M. Knapp
Kowall's "Shades"
I have one gripe with Mary Robinette Kowall's debut novel, Shades of Milk and Honey. The title does not make sense. I might have missed something (I was flying through the pages pretty quick; I read it all in one day) but I can't remember any mention of milk in the whole book and one or two chapter titles probably included the word honey. Maybe it's symbolic of something, like how Jane believes that her skin has the complexion of sour milk, but that's a stretch even for me.
Forget about that! There is nothing wrong with the book itself. In fact, in my never humble opinion, this is about as flawless a story as you could ask for. I couldn't put it down till I was done.
Jane Ellsworth, the heroine, is a gorgeous character. It's a rare thing when I identify with the lead in a story; all the doubts, how she handles relationships, her opinions of society, and how she feels and handles the rudeness of family and bystanders are all things I understand and have felt before. Kowall is so talented that her characters breathe after one or two sentences.
I guessed correct on every secret in the book. So what? How the relationships worked out still surprised me at turns; I really didn't know who Jane would end up with until maybe thirty pages before the end.
While this is not the most important thing, she did a very good job with the magic. I never considered magic, or glamour as Kowall calls it, as an art form. Honestly, it becomes a society skill like painting or music, and how it weaves itself into the story is breathtaking.
Now, I have to do a little comparison here, because Kowall asked for it. The story pays homage to Jane Austen and while there are some elements of Austen here, an Austen story this ain't. Now, I'm just going by the two Austen books I have read (Sense and Sensibility and Pride and Prejudice) but I can't imagine that Austen changed how she worked much in her later novels. Austen may have started her chapters with some setting and character description, but easily ninety percent of her stories are dialogue (usually, it felt like more.) Kowall has some sizzling dialogue in her story but it doesn't even come close to making up half of the story. Instead, she spends the majority of the time inside Jane's head, and far more attention to detail on setting than Austen would have. And of course, Austen would never have written an action scene or have had anything to do with magic.
Still, it has all the familiar things that made Austen great: complex love triangles, misunderstandings, gorgeous prose, a society that is both beautiful and cruel, and (this is a hard thing to see happen in a love story) the making of heroes. Oh, and romance. There is a little bit of that sprinkled here and there.
She has a sequel coming out called Glamour in Glass. I'd very much like to read that one.
Forget about that! There is nothing wrong with the book itself. In fact, in my never humble opinion, this is about as flawless a story as you could ask for. I couldn't put it down till I was done.
Jane Ellsworth, the heroine, is a gorgeous character. It's a rare thing when I identify with the lead in a story; all the doubts, how she handles relationships, her opinions of society, and how she feels and handles the rudeness of family and bystanders are all things I understand and have felt before. Kowall is so talented that her characters breathe after one or two sentences.
I guessed correct on every secret in the book. So what? How the relationships worked out still surprised me at turns; I really didn't know who Jane would end up with until maybe thirty pages before the end.
While this is not the most important thing, she did a very good job with the magic. I never considered magic, or glamour as Kowall calls it, as an art form. Honestly, it becomes a society skill like painting or music, and how it weaves itself into the story is breathtaking.
Now, I have to do a little comparison here, because Kowall asked for it. The story pays homage to Jane Austen and while there are some elements of Austen here, an Austen story this ain't. Now, I'm just going by the two Austen books I have read (Sense and Sensibility and Pride and Prejudice) but I can't imagine that Austen changed how she worked much in her later novels. Austen may have started her chapters with some setting and character description, but easily ninety percent of her stories are dialogue (usually, it felt like more.) Kowall has some sizzling dialogue in her story but it doesn't even come close to making up half of the story. Instead, she spends the majority of the time inside Jane's head, and far more attention to detail on setting than Austen would have. And of course, Austen would never have written an action scene or have had anything to do with magic.
Still, it has all the familiar things that made Austen great: complex love triangles, misunderstandings, gorgeous prose, a society that is both beautiful and cruel, and (this is a hard thing to see happen in a love story) the making of heroes. Oh, and romance. There is a little bit of that sprinkled here and there.
She has a sequel coming out called Glamour in Glass. I'd very much like to read that one.
Thursday, March 1, 2012
Maggie's Blog
This week's writing prompt from Writing Excuses was interesting: pick a character and write a blog post the way that they would write it.
After some thought, I picked Maggie Duella from Ness Swan. Maggie is a twenty-something who at the start of the novel has quit her journalist career for personal reasons and is trying to discover herself. She's a side character who discovers some important things in the later half of the story. I decided that this prompt would be a fun way to explore some of her backstory.
This "blog post" is written a little over two years prior to the novel's beginning, when Maggie's career is starting to take-off. Her "blog" is business-oriented, self-promotional, and geared towards advancing a story and yet there is a sense that at its heart, she is also sincerely seeking out the truth and wants it out in the open. My hope is to give a glimpse into a young person who is driven to succeed but still has some idealism.
Also, because she's a jounalist, I tried to bring the same writing technique that newspapermen use as taught me in my high school journalism class. (One of my few pet peeves about writing is when novelists try to write newspaper articles in their stories. All too often, they get it wrong. Newspapermen focus on telling the maximum of detail (or facts) in as few words possible. Novelists tend to do the opposite; even when they're in active voice, they still use twice as many words than a news editor would ever let them get away with. It's an odd thing that breaks my suspension of disbelief, but that's just how it is.)
Let me know how you think I did.
This is sci-fi, 181 words, and may give you a taste in what elements my novel contains.
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After some thought, I picked Maggie Duella from Ness Swan. Maggie is a twenty-something who at the start of the novel has quit her journalist career for personal reasons and is trying to discover herself. She's a side character who discovers some important things in the later half of the story. I decided that this prompt would be a fun way to explore some of her backstory.
This "blog post" is written a little over two years prior to the novel's beginning, when Maggie's career is starting to take-off. Her "blog" is business-oriented, self-promotional, and geared towards advancing a story and yet there is a sense that at its heart, she is also sincerely seeking out the truth and wants it out in the open. My hope is to give a glimpse into a young person who is driven to succeed but still has some idealism.
Also, because she's a jounalist, I tried to bring the same writing technique that newspapermen use as taught me in my high school journalism class. (One of my few pet peeves about writing is when novelists try to write newspaper articles in their stories. All too often, they get it wrong. Newspapermen focus on telling the maximum of detail (or facts) in as few words possible. Novelists tend to do the opposite; even when they're in active voice, they still use twice as many words than a news editor would ever let them get away with. It's an odd thing that breaks my suspension of disbelief, but that's just how it is.)
Let me know how you think I did.
This is sci-fi, 181 words, and may give you a taste in what elements my novel contains.
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Industrialist Chirra Kneut and two associates were arrested for tax fraud, 29 Fourmonth, in Phrain City Blessed Orange Hotel.
I interviewed Kneut and his associate, Rex Gundam (an Earther who changed citizenship two years ago), as well as Captain Raos Jejje, in charge of their arrest. To read my story, click here and you will also find related links to others.
While the alleged crime has been researched to great length this past week, from the business to their personal lives, I discovered one field in Kneut’s company out of place with mining installations. Kneut invested millions in hibernetic technologies.
Hibernetics, the technology to induce human hibernation, has been a largely obsolete field since the Whirl became affordable for commercial use. Now that ordinary citizens can travel to the nearest planet in two weeks, there is no need to induce sleep beyond the normal patterns.
Why would Kneut invest so much in a field that is considered a financial failure?
The money has been tracked to Li V’Camron, hibernetic researcher in RallyCorp. If you have information regarding RallyCorp, V’Camron, or hibernetics in general, please contact me here.
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