I don't often re-read books. I always tell myself I know the ending, I've read it before, so how could I enjoy it again?
I'm especially wary of books I read in high school.
The House of the Spirits, by Isabelle Allende was one of the few books assigned in English that I remember truly loving. Now that I'm older, when I reflected on why I really couldn't remember. Was the book that good, or did I love it because there was a controversy attached to it (a number of parents thought it was inappropriate for high school students)? Did I love it because I read it during an important, emotional time of my life, or was there something deeper and more meaningful to my remembered emotion?
A few weeks ago I stumbled across it in my library and, just for grins, I picked it up and started reading. It really is that good. Allende creates a cast of characters that run the gamut from outrageous and hilarious to dreadful and menacing. I'm sure we discussed it in high school, but it wasn't until this time around that I understood this is the story of Esteban Trueba, not the story of Clara and her daughter, Blanca, and grand daughter, Alba. They are integral parts of the story, and are really more dynamic than the angry, self-absorbed Esteban, but it is more the story of his life than it is the story of any of theirs, even as Alba and Clara narrate.
In high school the main objection voiced by parents concerned about THotS was the amount of sex. I was too young then to notice it (plus, I was a reasonably sheltered girl) so the sex kinda went over my head. I caught it this time. I'm still pretty sure the sex that was there wasn't unnecessary. It certainly wasn't overly titillating.
Along side the sex (and the issue I wonder might have actually been at the heart of the parental misgivings) is a debate over economics and fairness in the economic system. For most of the book the country is run by capitalists, meaning those who are wealthy are also the ones in power. Esteban Trueba, as a rich, hard-working man, is one of the people in power. I wish I still had the book to quote directly, but he elucidates a viewpoint I think most rich people in this country espouse: they're rich because they earned it and if they were to hand over their wealth to those who work for them the workers would simply squander it. It's certainly a sentiment I've heard enough from conservatives in this country.
Esteban is the embodiment of the whole ideal--he pulls himself up by his bootstraps (fortunately firmly anchored to family land), turning a neglected hacienda into the prosperous foundation for further business. It's true that he worked hard, and it's true that the hacienda was effectively fallow when there was no patron. The workers on the land only lived at subsistence level without Esteban at the helm. On the other hand, once he took over he did exploit them, paying them in company scrip, enriching himself and not really rewarding the people who did the bulk of the hard physical labor, forcing them to adopt his views on vitamins, education, and nutrition. And then there was all the raping of the daughters, the illegitimate children he refused to claim.
Sure, Esteban is a self-made man, but he's also a duche.
Pretty much everyone around him is more liberal than him, and more willing to believe that poor people don't deserve to be downtrodden and constantly in want. There's a constant pull, then, between Esteban and the more liberal people around him. To his credit, Esteban indulges his liberal relations and because of that his fortune becomes a force for good in the lives of many people.
What I really loved about this book is that there aren't right or wrong answers to the economic questions, or really any of the questions posed in the book, with the exception of military intervention into the political arena. This isn't a book where all the bad guys a communist or fascist, or capitalist. There are enough positive and negative aspects to each character to make them whole, and a whole person is hard to see as entirely bad. The arguments each makes, the viewpoints each holds are similarly complicated, similarly whole, and thus, it's impossible to dismiss any of them out of hand. They're all right in some ways and wrong in others.
Something I definitely want to work into my own writing.
Sunday, April 21, 2013
Friday, April 19, 2013
Consistency
This month is Camp NaNoWriMo, which is kind of a NaNoWriMo where you set your own goal. Fortunate for me because 50K words is way out of the realm of what I could do. 10K words, on the other hand, that I can manage.
The cool thing is, I am managing it. I'm not necessarily writing every day, but I am writing consistently, and finding some benefits to that consistency. For instance, the writing is easier, both to get into and to finish. What I write flows better, sounds better to me, and is going over better with my writing group. Not that I've gone through the exercise yet of reading out loud, but I'd guess the things I'm writing now will sound better out loud. I'm getting a better idea of my characters, and remembering them better. Oh, and my secondary characters actually have personalities because the primary characters are more cemented, leaving me mental space to give secondary characters some attention.
Best of all, I'm having more fun writing.
The cool thing is, I am managing it. I'm not necessarily writing every day, but I am writing consistently, and finding some benefits to that consistency. For instance, the writing is easier, both to get into and to finish. What I write flows better, sounds better to me, and is going over better with my writing group. Not that I've gone through the exercise yet of reading out loud, but I'd guess the things I'm writing now will sound better out loud. I'm getting a better idea of my characters, and remembering them better. Oh, and my secondary characters actually have personalities because the primary characters are more cemented, leaving me mental space to give secondary characters some attention.
Best of all, I'm having more fun writing.
Saturday, April 13, 2013
The proposal
Yes, I know. If I watch rom-coms I deserve what I get.
I watched "The Proposal" last night. Wow, what a stinker. I mean, it's kind of a bad thing when you're watching a romantic comedy and hoping the besieged couple doesn't make it. The Sandra Bullock character was so unsympathetic--blackmailing your secretary into a marriage? Passing on his manuscript to keep him at your beck and call? Cutting in line?--I really wanted her to get caught and sent back to Canada.
The secondary characters might have been good--c'mon! Betty White was the granny!--except that, in typical rom-com style, they were totally overplayed, one-dimensional, stereotypical characters.
The only reason to watch this movie is the great scenery. Pretty landscape, pretty people. Other than that, it's a pass.
I watched "The Proposal" last night. Wow, what a stinker. I mean, it's kind of a bad thing when you're watching a romantic comedy and hoping the besieged couple doesn't make it. The Sandra Bullock character was so unsympathetic--blackmailing your secretary into a marriage? Passing on his manuscript to keep him at your beck and call? Cutting in line?--I really wanted her to get caught and sent back to Canada.
The secondary characters might have been good--c'mon! Betty White was the granny!--except that, in typical rom-com style, they were totally overplayed, one-dimensional, stereotypical characters.
The only reason to watch this movie is the great scenery. Pretty landscape, pretty people. Other than that, it's a pass.
Sunday, April 7, 2013
fingers
I really hope I'm not out of commission for writing.
Tonight I thought I'd clean some glass in my house. As it so happens, my kids love Windex. My son, determined kid that he is, tried to pull th bottle from my hands. In the process he broke the bottle, cut my hand, and strained some of the tissues in my hand to the point I can basically only use my thumb.
Sigh. I was right on target for my April Camp NaNoWriMo super easy goal. I hope this heals quickly, or I get very good at this kind of typing quickly.
Tonight I thought I'd clean some glass in my house. As it so happens, my kids love Windex. My son, determined kid that he is, tried to pull th bottle from my hands. In the process he broke the bottle, cut my hand, and strained some of the tissues in my hand to the point I can basically only use my thumb.
Sigh. I was right on target for my April Camp NaNoWriMo super easy goal. I hope this heals quickly, or I get very good at this kind of typing quickly.
Friday, April 5, 2013
Where March went
So, it's this funny thing. March is gone and I have nothing to show for it. I didn't write much; I didn't read much; I basically didn't blog at all. All I have to show for the month of March are a couple of kids who were fed, clothed, and entertained reasonably well, and who only sustained minor injuries during that time. Oh, and Easter candy. Lots of Easter candy.
In April I'm doing camp NaNoWriMo with a very modest goal (10,000 words). So far I've done pretty well with that goal--I'm just a little bit ahead of where I need to be to finish my 10,000 words in one month. It's not entirely true that I didn't write in March. I finished one chapter (badly, but 2000 words, so not nothing) and I did a bit of outlining. Really, I did quite a bit of outlining.
I'm a discovery writer. I almost never start with an idea of where I want to end up; I start with an idea I think is cool and see where it takes me. Unfortunately, usually I just write around in circles. I'm attempting to get around that by listening to the advice of other writers and figuring out my ending and then what I need my characters to do/have happen to them to get to that point. It's a bit like figuring out a puzzle. I find I do enjoy the thought process, though then meshing the outline with the writing is still a challenge.
You see, I have a hard time doing mean things to my characters. I decided to shove one of them off a cliff in February, and another couple just lived through a massacre, so it's not like I can't do mean things to them externally, but then figuring out what my characters are going to do in response and how that works into the outline...
In April I'm doing camp NaNoWriMo with a very modest goal (10,000 words). So far I've done pretty well with that goal--I'm just a little bit ahead of where I need to be to finish my 10,000 words in one month. It's not entirely true that I didn't write in March. I finished one chapter (badly, but 2000 words, so not nothing) and I did a bit of outlining. Really, I did quite a bit of outlining.
I'm a discovery writer. I almost never start with an idea of where I want to end up; I start with an idea I think is cool and see where it takes me. Unfortunately, usually I just write around in circles. I'm attempting to get around that by listening to the advice of other writers and figuring out my ending and then what I need my characters to do/have happen to them to get to that point. It's a bit like figuring out a puzzle. I find I do enjoy the thought process, though then meshing the outline with the writing is still a challenge.
You see, I have a hard time doing mean things to my characters. I decided to shove one of them off a cliff in February, and another couple just lived through a massacre, so it's not like I can't do mean things to them externally, but then figuring out what my characters are going to do in response and how that works into the outline...
Friday, March 1, 2013
Titanic
The day Alex met a mermaid was unusual only for the fact that the person she was complaining too actually agreed with her.
"I think he's just not interested in my project anymore. I mean, you'd think he'd want me to go for that fellowship. He's certainly making a big enough deal about Gregori applying." Alex pushed her fingers over the keyboard, distracting herself from the constriction in her chest. She had two more published papers than Gregori and a patent in her name. That ought to count for something. Somehow it never seemed to.
"Yeah, he'd kinda been a dick to you lately. I mean, Schmidt's always an ass to girls but up until lately he kinda overlooked your gender...hey, I think I can see the bow." James sat up as straight as he ever did as the pale ghost emerged from the inky black. The constriction in Alex's chest warred with her excitement as the almost unchanged form of the Titanic swept through the view screen. It looked just like the videos Alex had watched obsessively since high school, only this time it was live and Alex was sitting next to the guy piloting the ROV. Alex wanted to whoop with joy, to dance around the lab, to kiss James square on the lips. This was so far from where she thought robotics would take her, some days she still felt like pinching herself.
She closed her laptop and turned her full attention to James' screen.
"You know, you could be a little more excited," James said.
"And how do you know I'm not excited?"
In trademark James style, he raised a single eyebrow.
A grin tugged at the corners of her mouth. She gave in and smiled. "Whatever. Let's test out this baby. We've got to look for some suitably delicate task to test the fingers and then we can move into the vessel. Can you move through that opening there?"
"Here you go." James waved the joystick under Alex's nose.
She looked at him for a split second then snatched the joystick from his fingers.
"I knew you were excited."
"Shut up."
For two hours they tooled around the Titanic, cataloging. The robot's fingers worked perfectly, gently sifting delicate articles from the ooze. Once or twice Alex let go enough to smile.
"This is awesome. The fingers are still working perfectly, even at these pressures. This'll be another paper for sure." Alex shared one of her rare smiles with James.
"Hey congrats, I'm gonna hit the head. Don't find anything exciting without me, 'k?" James didn't wait for her response.
She turned back to her work. Of course he wouldn't be excited for her.
An open door in a lower deck beckoned. Inside she found a simple room filled with what must have been barracks for the third class passengers. As she rotated around the ROV kicked up fines, momentarily turning everything white.
Pale fins flashed across the screen. Big fins, moving fast. Alex caught a breath. There shouldn't be anything big down that far. Perhaps something swam close. Perhaps she was a little tired. She leaned back and closed her eyes for a moment, rationalizing she needed to wait for the sediment to settle out anyway.
Refreshed and calm, Alex slowly, carefully moved the ROV into the room. A jumbled mass of something caught her attention--could it be someone's belongings? A body? It was morbid, she knew, but she would love to discover the remains of one of the passengers. She also knew the prospect was basically nil with the way organics decomposed under water.
The deft fingers of the robot fished a man's satchel out of the ooze, still intact after more than a hundred years. With everything that water corrupted it was amazing that some things were so well preserved. She made a note of the position of the satchel and the time on the video feed and ordered the robot to place the satchel in the basket. The arms moved slowly through beams of light.
Ghostly, freakishly white hands opened the bag and pulled out a pocket watch and disappeared.
Alex's heart beat loudly in her chest and her head felt like it was full of bees. She wanted to rewind the feed, to see if she'd really just hands--human hands--rumaging through the belongings of a dead person. She wrote down the time stamp, vowing she'd look it up when the dive was finished, when doing so wouldn't compromise the record.
The hands returned, accompanied by a face and body. And a tail.
The last graduate student Alex knew of who had claimed to see a mermaid left science soon after to become an organic farmer somewhere in the Midwest. Suddenly Alex wondered if she still had his email address somewhere.
The mermaid wasn't beautiful. It looked like a bloated corpse, like a zombie more than a creature capable of luring sailors to their doom. Its gender was indeterminate, its hair twisted and matted and full of things Alex was sure were once living.
The mermaid held up the watch and opened it, showing the broken face to the ROV. It pantomimed pushing the button down a couple of times then pushed the watch into the robot's fingers. It blew a kiss at the camera, then swam away, kicking up clouds of detritus.
Alex stared at the screen for a few moments. She shook her head, then ordered the robot to resume putting the satchel and watch into the basket. A sourness settled in her stomach, like she'd stayed up too late. She couldn't possibly risk such an amazing find, especially for a figment of her imagination.
The hands came back and snatched the watch away. The mermaid swam back into view, stuck its barnacled tongue out at her, and again pantomimed pushing the button on the watch. With a sharp swat of its hand it again replaced the watch and swam off.
Ah, so the thing was watching. Alex didn't want to damage the priceless relic with the robot's hands, but definitely didn't want to explain that a mythical creature's capricious behavior was responsible. Choosing the lesser of two evils she clicked.
The mermaid's barnacled tongue was out. It pantomimed pushing the button, replaced the watch in the grasp of the robot and swam away.
She waited and clicked again.
The mermaid was replacing the watch. It swam away, stirring up sediment just as before.
Alex looked at her own watch then pushed again.
Ten seconds were returned to her.
"Hah, you didn't listen to me. Good for you. That pocket watch is impressive." James leaned over her chair. His cheap cologne made her suddenly nauseous.
Alex looked up at him. "Can I tell you something?"
"Sure."
"I saw a mermaid."
"What? You're crazy."
Alex clicked.
"...didn't listen to me. Good for you. That pocket watch is impressive." James leaned over her chair. His cheap cologne made her nauseous again.
"It's a magic pocket watch. When I click it time rewinds ten seconds."
James smirked and rolled his eyes. "We haven't been awake THAT long."
Alex clicked.
"...for you. That pocket watch is impressive." James leaned over her chair.
Alex said, "I'm pregnant. Schmidt knows."
She clicked.
Too bad it's only 10 seconds.
"I think he's just not interested in my project anymore. I mean, you'd think he'd want me to go for that fellowship. He's certainly making a big enough deal about Gregori applying." Alex pushed her fingers over the keyboard, distracting herself from the constriction in her chest. She had two more published papers than Gregori and a patent in her name. That ought to count for something. Somehow it never seemed to.
"Yeah, he'd kinda been a dick to you lately. I mean, Schmidt's always an ass to girls but up until lately he kinda overlooked your gender...hey, I think I can see the bow." James sat up as straight as he ever did as the pale ghost emerged from the inky black. The constriction in Alex's chest warred with her excitement as the almost unchanged form of the Titanic swept through the view screen. It looked just like the videos Alex had watched obsessively since high school, only this time it was live and Alex was sitting next to the guy piloting the ROV. Alex wanted to whoop with joy, to dance around the lab, to kiss James square on the lips. This was so far from where she thought robotics would take her, some days she still felt like pinching herself.
She closed her laptop and turned her full attention to James' screen.
"You know, you could be a little more excited," James said.
"And how do you know I'm not excited?"
In trademark James style, he raised a single eyebrow.
A grin tugged at the corners of her mouth. She gave in and smiled. "Whatever. Let's test out this baby. We've got to look for some suitably delicate task to test the fingers and then we can move into the vessel. Can you move through that opening there?"
"Here you go." James waved the joystick under Alex's nose.
She looked at him for a split second then snatched the joystick from his fingers.
"I knew you were excited."
"Shut up."
For two hours they tooled around the Titanic, cataloging. The robot's fingers worked perfectly, gently sifting delicate articles from the ooze. Once or twice Alex let go enough to smile.
"This is awesome. The fingers are still working perfectly, even at these pressures. This'll be another paper for sure." Alex shared one of her rare smiles with James.
"Hey congrats, I'm gonna hit the head. Don't find anything exciting without me, 'k?" James didn't wait for her response.
She turned back to her work. Of course he wouldn't be excited for her.
An open door in a lower deck beckoned. Inside she found a simple room filled with what must have been barracks for the third class passengers. As she rotated around the ROV kicked up fines, momentarily turning everything white.
Pale fins flashed across the screen. Big fins, moving fast. Alex caught a breath. There shouldn't be anything big down that far. Perhaps something swam close. Perhaps she was a little tired. She leaned back and closed her eyes for a moment, rationalizing she needed to wait for the sediment to settle out anyway.
Refreshed and calm, Alex slowly, carefully moved the ROV into the room. A jumbled mass of something caught her attention--could it be someone's belongings? A body? It was morbid, she knew, but she would love to discover the remains of one of the passengers. She also knew the prospect was basically nil with the way organics decomposed under water.
The deft fingers of the robot fished a man's satchel out of the ooze, still intact after more than a hundred years. With everything that water corrupted it was amazing that some things were so well preserved. She made a note of the position of the satchel and the time on the video feed and ordered the robot to place the satchel in the basket. The arms moved slowly through beams of light.
Ghostly, freakishly white hands opened the bag and pulled out a pocket watch and disappeared.
Alex's heart beat loudly in her chest and her head felt like it was full of bees. She wanted to rewind the feed, to see if she'd really just hands--human hands--rumaging through the belongings of a dead person. She wrote down the time stamp, vowing she'd look it up when the dive was finished, when doing so wouldn't compromise the record.
The hands returned, accompanied by a face and body. And a tail.
The last graduate student Alex knew of who had claimed to see a mermaid left science soon after to become an organic farmer somewhere in the Midwest. Suddenly Alex wondered if she still had his email address somewhere.
The mermaid wasn't beautiful. It looked like a bloated corpse, like a zombie more than a creature capable of luring sailors to their doom. Its gender was indeterminate, its hair twisted and matted and full of things Alex was sure were once living.
The mermaid held up the watch and opened it, showing the broken face to the ROV. It pantomimed pushing the button down a couple of times then pushed the watch into the robot's fingers. It blew a kiss at the camera, then swam away, kicking up clouds of detritus.
Alex stared at the screen for a few moments. She shook her head, then ordered the robot to resume putting the satchel and watch into the basket. A sourness settled in her stomach, like she'd stayed up too late. She couldn't possibly risk such an amazing find, especially for a figment of her imagination.
The hands came back and snatched the watch away. The mermaid swam back into view, stuck its barnacled tongue out at her, and again pantomimed pushing the button on the watch. With a sharp swat of its hand it again replaced the watch and swam off.
Ah, so the thing was watching. Alex didn't want to damage the priceless relic with the robot's hands, but definitely didn't want to explain that a mythical creature's capricious behavior was responsible. Choosing the lesser of two evils she clicked.
The mermaid's barnacled tongue was out. It pantomimed pushing the button, replaced the watch in the grasp of the robot and swam away.
She waited and clicked again.
The mermaid was replacing the watch. It swam away, stirring up sediment just as before.
Alex looked at her own watch then pushed again.
Ten seconds were returned to her.
"Hah, you didn't listen to me. Good for you. That pocket watch is impressive." James leaned over her chair. His cheap cologne made her suddenly nauseous.
Alex looked up at him. "Can I tell you something?"
"Sure."
"I saw a mermaid."
"What? You're crazy."
Alex clicked.
"...didn't listen to me. Good for you. That pocket watch is impressive." James leaned over her chair. His cheap cologne made her nauseous again.
"It's a magic pocket watch. When I click it time rewinds ten seconds."
James smirked and rolled his eyes. "We haven't been awake THAT long."
Alex clicked.
"...for you. That pocket watch is impressive." James leaned over her chair.
Alex said, "I'm pregnant. Schmidt knows."
She clicked.
Too bad it's only 10 seconds.
Tuesday, February 26, 2013
My Little Pony
Yes, I know. If ever there was a title to make other people run screaming it's that one. Nevertheless, I'm going to talk about "My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic," the most recent incarnation of My Little Pony.
'Cause it's really quite good.
A couple of years ago I made the mistake of watching some old episodes of "Transformers." Actually, I should say I attempted to watch *an* episode of "Transformers." I couldn't force myself to sit through an entire 22 minutes of that incoherent, illogical excuse for entertainment. (Really explained a lot about the movies, though.) Since then I've shied away from re-watching any other childhood favorites for fear of spoiling my pleasant memories.
My daughter loves TV (or youtube, since that's really how we watch things) and one of the things she's gotten into is My Little Pony. At first I wasn't all that keen on her watching them. Honestly, I'm still not all that keen on her watching them overmuch; but as TV goes, I'm fairly happy with her watching My Little Pony. The plots are coherent and diverse--there's a good mix between interpersonal relationship plots, bad guy plots, and self-discovery plots. The characters have distinct, consistent voices and personalities. I don't actually watch the show often--mostly I turn it on and let my daughter watch it while I do something else like clean. But I listen frequently and even without the voice acting the characters have distinct voices. I'm definitely impressed by the quality of the writing.
The only aspect of the show I think keeps it from being appropriate for older kids/adults is the fact that the villains have simple, superficial motivations. As an adult I roll my eyes, but for a kid that's probably developmentally exactly right. Makes me feel ever so slightly better about letting her watch brain-rotting TV.
'Cause it's really quite good.
A couple of years ago I made the mistake of watching some old episodes of "Transformers." Actually, I should say I attempted to watch *an* episode of "Transformers." I couldn't force myself to sit through an entire 22 minutes of that incoherent, illogical excuse for entertainment. (Really explained a lot about the movies, though.) Since then I've shied away from re-watching any other childhood favorites for fear of spoiling my pleasant memories.
My daughter loves TV (or youtube, since that's really how we watch things) and one of the things she's gotten into is My Little Pony. At first I wasn't all that keen on her watching them. Honestly, I'm still not all that keen on her watching them overmuch; but as TV goes, I'm fairly happy with her watching My Little Pony. The plots are coherent and diverse--there's a good mix between interpersonal relationship plots, bad guy plots, and self-discovery plots. The characters have distinct, consistent voices and personalities. I don't actually watch the show often--mostly I turn it on and let my daughter watch it while I do something else like clean. But I listen frequently and even without the voice acting the characters have distinct voices. I'm definitely impressed by the quality of the writing.
The only aspect of the show I think keeps it from being appropriate for older kids/adults is the fact that the villains have simple, superficial motivations. As an adult I roll my eyes, but for a kid that's probably developmentally exactly right. Makes me feel ever so slightly better about letting her watch brain-rotting TV.
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