I just got an email from Flash Fiction Online, a pro short story market:
http://www.flashfictiononline.com/
I've had a submission out to them for just over 2 months, it's a comedy about the end of the world. Apparently the story has made it into their 3rd and final stage of reading (called winnowing), which only about 10% of stories make it to. For more information on the readin process there:
http://flashfictiononline.com/bb/index.php?topic=127.msg499
So I'll be crossing my fingers until I get confirmation one way or the other. I would love to sell a story to FFO and be able to put it on my cover letters. :) Wish me luck!
In the meantime, you might want to check out one of their recently published stories that I particularly enjoyed, called "I Foretold You So":
http://www.flashfictiononline.com/f20090401-i-foretold-you-so-rod-santos.html
Friday, April 17, 2009
Thursday, April 16, 2009
The Mysteries of Memory
Wow, I've had a lot of posts in the last week and on random topics. Well, here's another one--the mysteries of memory. In particular I was wondering how the brain chooses what to remember and what to forget. I'm a mediaphile, always hunting the next great movie/tv show/book/short story/etc, and I am constantly amazed at how much totally useless information I have stored up there. Is all that information using up my storage space? Is that why I forget where I put my car keys, or totally blank on test questions in my classes?
Does anyone else find they have huge amounts of totally useless things stored in their brains? For instance:
1. Video games walkthroughs. I haven't played Super Mario Bros. 3 on NES for 10 years. The last time I played through it, it had been at least 5 years before that, and I knew EXACTLY where everything was in the game. Where the warp whistles are, exactly how to get hammer brothers suits, where the invisible note blocks are. And my muscle reflex is still completely intact for that game, I barely skip a beat.
I could also probably list at least 20 special moves for various characters in the Mortal Kombat series, though I haven't played those for 10+ years also.
2. Random associations. When I was in junior high and high school, I liked to play through video games on one TV while I had the little black and white TV showing TV shows in the background. In this one, one media becomes melded together with the other in my mind. There's a particular level in The Illusion of Gaia (on SNES) where you're fighting your way through the jungle. When I was playing through that, I was watching an episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation, where they meet a genderless alien race. There's one member of the race that is intrigued by human femininity and so she tries to be more womanlike. Riker grows a love interest for her and has some very awkward conversations about sex. Then at the end, the race discovers her deviance and brainwashes her back to "normal" behavior. I haven't seen that episode since then, but I remember all those details.
3. Faces on movies/tv shows. My wife and I make a game of it when we're channel surfing or going out to movies, if we can figure out where else we've seen an actor without going to IMDB. We've been doing that so long that it's rare to watch something where there isn't some association. I should start playing Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon, that game always sounded fun when I heard it on radio shows and stuff.
Does anyone else find they have huge amounts of totally useless things stored in their brains? For instance:
1. Video games walkthroughs. I haven't played Super Mario Bros. 3 on NES for 10 years. The last time I played through it, it had been at least 5 years before that, and I knew EXACTLY where everything was in the game. Where the warp whistles are, exactly how to get hammer brothers suits, where the invisible note blocks are. And my muscle reflex is still completely intact for that game, I barely skip a beat.
I could also probably list at least 20 special moves for various characters in the Mortal Kombat series, though I haven't played those for 10+ years also.
2. Random associations. When I was in junior high and high school, I liked to play through video games on one TV while I had the little black and white TV showing TV shows in the background. In this one, one media becomes melded together with the other in my mind. There's a particular level in The Illusion of Gaia (on SNES) where you're fighting your way through the jungle. When I was playing through that, I was watching an episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation, where they meet a genderless alien race. There's one member of the race that is intrigued by human femininity and so she tries to be more womanlike. Riker grows a love interest for her and has some very awkward conversations about sex. Then at the end, the race discovers her deviance and brainwashes her back to "normal" behavior. I haven't seen that episode since then, but I remember all those details.
3. Faces on movies/tv shows. My wife and I make a game of it when we're channel surfing or going out to movies, if we can figure out where else we've seen an actor without going to IMDB. We've been doing that so long that it's rare to watch something where there isn't some association. I should start playing Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon, that game always sounded fun when I heard it on radio shows and stuff.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
What is "literary"?
My question for today's post is: What is "literary fiction"? Taken literally, the answer seems pretty straightforward. "literary" seems to be related to "literature". "Literature" means "written". So "literary fiction" simply means written fiction, right? Wrong!
I've yet to find a widely accepted definition of "literary" as a genre. Glimmer Train classifies themselves as literary, as does Zoetrope (and many others). Whether you like the stories in these magazines is, as with all magazines, a matter of taste.
But to me classifying some writing as "literary" to the exclusion of other writing implies a sort of elitist attitude, as though "literary" writing is the only sort of writing that has value. The same for labeling a section in the bookstore as "literature", as opposed to other fiction sections like mystery, horror, science fiction/fantasy. I don't object to the section--I've read many books in the literature section that I enjoyed, but I do object to the title. The book store might as well label it "high-quality fiction" and "other". As I'm primarily a reader of speculative fiction, this bothers me.
And a lot of times, the boundary is fuzzy anyway. Wicked, by Gregory Maguire, is in the literature section, despite it being clearly fantasy material. Why is that classed as literature? I suspect its the tone and style of writing, which would explain why this is the only Oz story I don't care for.
Classic science fiction and fantasy is generally classified as literature also--I believe I've seen The Time Machine, A Clockwork Orange, 1984, and other classics in there. Is Speculative fiction like a fine wine, somehow gaining quality as it ages? If we'd been alive to taste of The Time Machine shortly after it was written, would it have ruined the experience because it wasn't old enough? Maybe if I take a George R. R. Martin novel and put it in the book cellar, and pull it out again in several generations, it will have become literature, perfectly aged and fetching a handsome price from literature connoisseurs who will riffle the pages, sniff the binding, and read only a paragraph at a time so as not to be overwhelmed by the power of the prose between the covers.
I've yet to find a widely accepted definition of "literary" as a genre. Glimmer Train classifies themselves as literary, as does Zoetrope (and many others). Whether you like the stories in these magazines is, as with all magazines, a matter of taste.
But to me classifying some writing as "literary" to the exclusion of other writing implies a sort of elitist attitude, as though "literary" writing is the only sort of writing that has value. The same for labeling a section in the bookstore as "literature", as opposed to other fiction sections like mystery, horror, science fiction/fantasy. I don't object to the section--I've read many books in the literature section that I enjoyed, but I do object to the title. The book store might as well label it "high-quality fiction" and "other". As I'm primarily a reader of speculative fiction, this bothers me.
And a lot of times, the boundary is fuzzy anyway. Wicked, by Gregory Maguire, is in the literature section, despite it being clearly fantasy material. Why is that classed as literature? I suspect its the tone and style of writing, which would explain why this is the only Oz story I don't care for.
Classic science fiction and fantasy is generally classified as literature also--I believe I've seen The Time Machine, A Clockwork Orange, 1984, and other classics in there. Is Speculative fiction like a fine wine, somehow gaining quality as it ages? If we'd been alive to taste of The Time Machine shortly after it was written, would it have ruined the experience because it wasn't old enough? Maybe if I take a George R. R. Martin novel and put it in the book cellar, and pull it out again in several generations, it will have become literature, perfectly aged and fetching a handsome price from literature connoisseurs who will riffle the pages, sniff the binding, and read only a paragraph at a time so as not to be overwhelmed by the power of the prose between the covers.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
City of Green--Another thought or two
A couple more thoughts on the topic of the green-goggled city.
In The Matrix, there's at least one mention of Oz--not surprising of course with the parallel world analogy. But another parallel that might not be so obvious is that the cities inside the matrix tend to all be tinted green, as though seen through a green filter, just like the Emerald City. And in both cases, the populace is largely controlled by an uncaring dictator who controls them by misleading them.
Also, a friend pointed out an interesting side effect that might be visible to Emerald Citizens when they first see the outside world, assuming they are physiologically capable of seeing other colors. When you look at one color or image too long, then when you close your eyes or look away you often see an afterimage, everything still in the same place but with all the colors inverted to their negative--black becomes white, green becomes red, etc... So these people might see everything in tints of red for a while until their eyes cope and adjust.
On a related side-story, I took a car trip with my older brother a decade or so ago. I wasn't old enough to drive yet, so he did all the driving, and I tended to be lulled to sleep by the sound of the engine. On more than one occasion I woke up to find the whole world was tinted green! The effect faded after a few seconds or a minute, and then everything was normal again. It was bizarre! I recently found out that it was probably just another afterimage. I must have been sleeping in direct sunlight so that the sun glowed red through my eyelids. After hours of red exposure, I woke up, and opened my eyes, and everything was tinted green--the negative of the red filter provided by my eyelids. Crazy stuff. :)
In The Matrix, there's at least one mention of Oz--not surprising of course with the parallel world analogy. But another parallel that might not be so obvious is that the cities inside the matrix tend to all be tinted green, as though seen through a green filter, just like the Emerald City. And in both cases, the populace is largely controlled by an uncaring dictator who controls them by misleading them.
Also, a friend pointed out an interesting side effect that might be visible to Emerald Citizens when they first see the outside world, assuming they are physiologically capable of seeing other colors. When you look at one color or image too long, then when you close your eyes or look away you often see an afterimage, everything still in the same place but with all the colors inverted to their negative--black becomes white, green becomes red, etc... So these people might see everything in tints of red for a while until their eyes cope and adjust.
On a related side-story, I took a car trip with my older brother a decade or so ago. I wasn't old enough to drive yet, so he did all the driving, and I tended to be lulled to sleep by the sound of the engine. On more than one occasion I woke up to find the whole world was tinted green! The effect faded after a few seconds or a minute, and then everything was normal again. It was bizarre! I recently found out that it was probably just another afterimage. I must have been sleeping in direct sunlight so that the sun glowed red through my eyelids. After hours of red exposure, I woke up, and opened my eyes, and everything was tinted green--the negative of the red filter provided by my eyelids. Crazy stuff. :)
Monday, April 13, 2009
City of Green
I found a great anthology to submit to, a horror anthology of stories based on The Wizard of Oz:
http://jwschnarr.webs.com/submissions.htm
I am SO submitting. Without a doubt.
On a related topic, when I read L. Frank Baum's original The Wizard of Oz, his description of the Emerald City got me thinking. In that version of the Wizard of Oz, there was a city law mandating that all people entering the city must have sunglasses attached to their head. The shades literally locked over your ears (though they seemed to not notice the fact that the tin man and scarecrow don't really have ears). The stated reason they gave for this was that the emerald city was so dazzling that you needed to wear the sunglasses or you would be blinded. Inside the city, everything was green, green buildings, green clothes, green horses, green-skinned people, everything. They even get Dorothy a green dress. Well, they have their audience with the Wizard and everything, and then leave the city, having the shades removed at the gate and Dorothy is surprised to find out that her dress has changed to white. Later they find out that the shades weren't just shades, they were tinted green! The city wasn't really as green as it claimed to be, but everyone thought it was because they were wearing green sunglasses! Now, there's some inherent flaws in this whole plotline, such as the fact that they didn't notice that each other turned green as well.
Anyway, imagine a race that grew up in such a world, where they were forced to wear green shades all the time. It's sort of a specialized way of being color blind. It's still monochrome, but instead of seeing in shades of gray, it's shades of green.
But the most interesting thing would be the question of what happens when you take an adult, who's lived their life in a green world, out of that world and let them see the full spectrum. The first question, and an interesting one, is whether they would be able to see the other colors at all. I took a psychology class in college, and one of the random tidbits I remember from it is that vision isn't inherently built into our systems. It is learned through experience. They explained one experiment in which they put polarized glasses on a kitten and kept them on it for the first couple months of its life (probably not ethical these days, but the results are interesting nonetheless). When they finally took the glasses off, the kitten couldn't see light that was polarized in the other direction! It had never seen that kind of light so its brain never learned to process it. I don't recall if the cat developed the full optical abilities later in its life, but I think animals have to learn pretty early.
So along these same lines, would people who grew up in the Emerald City be able to see other colors at all? I don't think they would. What would they see instead? Would they see everything, but shifted into the greenscale? Would non-green things be essentially invisible to them, hiding in giant blindspots? I'm curious.
Let's assume that they're physiologically and mentally capable of processing the full range of colors. Can you imagine what a wondrous time it would be, just taking them for a walk, showing them multicolored flowers, seeing songbirds, or even a rainbow? It would be like a drug! They would never want to go back to the Emerald City again! And if they did, and they told their friends about colors, their friends would laugh and think them crazy!
Would a monochrome society develop any differently than a full-color society? At least some areas would. Art would be viewed very differently. Florists would probably have much less demand. Marketing people would have to rely on other tactics rather than color of packaging. I'm sure there are many other ways. Can you think of any others?
Would people as individuals develop any differently?
Now, this idea was covered in some extent by the movie Pleasantville, but in a rather different way. In that movie, the main characters enter a classic 50s TV show, which is of course in black and white, and are stuck there for a while. But that is really a different thing. That society didn't develop that way, it was an artificial construct by entertainment censoring standards in the 50s, as well as the lack of the development of color TV technology at the time. It wasn't forced on them by their government, it was just how the artificial world was fabricated. Along with the lack of color were other oddities, such as no one being aware of sex, or toilets, or reading, and firemen that didn't do anything but rescue kitties from trees. When color started bleeding into the world, it represented a loss of innocence, which some people thought was a good thing and others thought was a bad thing. It's a great movie, but again, it's usage of color is rather different than the Emerald Citizen concept. Emerald Citizens are otherwise normal people, knowing of copulation and defacation and firefighting.
If this sparked any thoughts or comments, I'd love to hear them!
http://jwschnarr.webs.com/submissions.htm
I am SO submitting. Without a doubt.
On a related topic, when I read L. Frank Baum's original The Wizard of Oz, his description of the Emerald City got me thinking. In that version of the Wizard of Oz, there was a city law mandating that all people entering the city must have sunglasses attached to their head. The shades literally locked over your ears (though they seemed to not notice the fact that the tin man and scarecrow don't really have ears). The stated reason they gave for this was that the emerald city was so dazzling that you needed to wear the sunglasses or you would be blinded. Inside the city, everything was green, green buildings, green clothes, green horses, green-skinned people, everything. They even get Dorothy a green dress. Well, they have their audience with the Wizard and everything, and then leave the city, having the shades removed at the gate and Dorothy is surprised to find out that her dress has changed to white. Later they find out that the shades weren't just shades, they were tinted green! The city wasn't really as green as it claimed to be, but everyone thought it was because they were wearing green sunglasses! Now, there's some inherent flaws in this whole plotline, such as the fact that they didn't notice that each other turned green as well.
Anyway, imagine a race that grew up in such a world, where they were forced to wear green shades all the time. It's sort of a specialized way of being color blind. It's still monochrome, but instead of seeing in shades of gray, it's shades of green.
But the most interesting thing would be the question of what happens when you take an adult, who's lived their life in a green world, out of that world and let them see the full spectrum. The first question, and an interesting one, is whether they would be able to see the other colors at all. I took a psychology class in college, and one of the random tidbits I remember from it is that vision isn't inherently built into our systems. It is learned through experience. They explained one experiment in which they put polarized glasses on a kitten and kept them on it for the first couple months of its life (probably not ethical these days, but the results are interesting nonetheless). When they finally took the glasses off, the kitten couldn't see light that was polarized in the other direction! It had never seen that kind of light so its brain never learned to process it. I don't recall if the cat developed the full optical abilities later in its life, but I think animals have to learn pretty early.
So along these same lines, would people who grew up in the Emerald City be able to see other colors at all? I don't think they would. What would they see instead? Would they see everything, but shifted into the greenscale? Would non-green things be essentially invisible to them, hiding in giant blindspots? I'm curious.
Let's assume that they're physiologically and mentally capable of processing the full range of colors. Can you imagine what a wondrous time it would be, just taking them for a walk, showing them multicolored flowers, seeing songbirds, or even a rainbow? It would be like a drug! They would never want to go back to the Emerald City again! And if they did, and they told their friends about colors, their friends would laugh and think them crazy!
Would a monochrome society develop any differently than a full-color society? At least some areas would. Art would be viewed very differently. Florists would probably have much less demand. Marketing people would have to rely on other tactics rather than color of packaging. I'm sure there are many other ways. Can you think of any others?
Would people as individuals develop any differently?
Now, this idea was covered in some extent by the movie Pleasantville, but in a rather different way. In that movie, the main characters enter a classic 50s TV show, which is of course in black and white, and are stuck there for a while. But that is really a different thing. That society didn't develop that way, it was an artificial construct by entertainment censoring standards in the 50s, as well as the lack of the development of color TV technology at the time. It wasn't forced on them by their government, it was just how the artificial world was fabricated. Along with the lack of color were other oddities, such as no one being aware of sex, or toilets, or reading, and firemen that didn't do anything but rescue kitties from trees. When color started bleeding into the world, it represented a loss of innocence, which some people thought was a good thing and others thought was a bad thing. It's a great movie, but again, it's usage of color is rather different than the Emerald Citizen concept. Emerald Citizens are otherwise normal people, knowing of copulation and defacation and firefighting.
If this sparked any thoughts or comments, I'd love to hear them!
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Magazines Review: Glimmer Train Winter 2009 and Zoetrope All-Story Winter 2008/2009
Reading these two magazines was an attempt to broaden my horizons and learn more about so-called "literary" publications. I put literary in quotes because I don't care for that label at all. Isn't all writing literary? To me, it's like labelling a section in the book store "The Good Stuff", leaving the obvious assumption that everything else in the bookstore is not good. But that's a topic of its own that I'll cover another day.
Anyway, these two magazines label themselves as literary, making me question whether I ever want to submit to a literary publication. I don't think my stories could fit in, if these two copies are the norm.
Among other things, each of these magazines cost me 9 dollars. Even the more expensive speculative novels don't cost that much, and the expensive ones of those are often 800 pages! It's worth it for a little market research, but I can't imagine paying that regularly for a magazine.
Does anyone have any literary publications that they think are particularly good examples? I would love to read one that would make me want to buy a second copy. I welcome any input--if you suggest one that I can find a copy of, I'll try to give it a read. I don't want to make blanket statements about literary magazines without a well-rounded sample.
In these two issues, I only enjoyed one story, but it was the one published back in 1921, written by F. Scott Fitzgerald, "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button". No doubt it was included more as part of a cross-marketing campaign, but I'm glad I read it. It's rather dry, and doesn't get very close into any of the character's heads, but that was more of the style of the time, so I'm not going to criticize reading/writing tastes of a long-gone decade. I can tell even just from seeing the previews that they changed quite a bit from the stort-story, which is fine. The short story is a neat idea, but not nearly fleshed-out enough to want to spend two hours with. I'd been wanting to see the movie, so it's raised my interest level.
The rest of the stories were pretty much all the same as each other, so I won't list them off. It was clear that many of the writers have a whole lot of talent, I'm not disputing that. There were some great turns of phrases and some interesting moments that let the talent shine through, but I think they could write better: the talent's there but they're holding themselves back.
I tried to read these with an open mind, I really did. I'll always be, first and foremost, a speculative fiction fan. Like so many things, this is just a matter of taste. I've like many non-speculative books and stories, but nothing quite hits that "sense-of-wonder" button like a good science fiction or fantasy. I didn't try to compare these literary stories to speculative stories as that wouldn't have been fair. I wanted to decide if I would just enjoy them on their own, not compare them to some other ideal. I really didn't care for them, and while trying to examine why, I made a short list of things that seemed to be in common between many or all of these stories:
1. No cohesive theme. After I read something, I like to have a feel for the theme. That doesn't mean it has to be spelled out with an explicit moral, like the ending of a fable, but I like to have a feel for what it was trying to say. Either these stories were trying to give it no theme or too many themes. Too many themes is just as bad as no theme, as each one is diluted by the presence of too many others. Perhaps they all had the theme "Life sucks". That's possible, but I don't really care to read them in that case. I can get enough "Life sucks" themes by watching the news.
2. No plot, no climax, just a series of small things happening after another. Like ripping a page from someone's journal at random. You see some of that person's day-to-day struggles, but you're told that these struggles have been that way for a long time, and nothing in the story hints that they will be any different in the days to come.
3. No attempt to get close into the protagonist's point of view. My favorite stories are the ones that allow you to get into the protagonist's head. This is why prose has the potential to be so much better in its way than cinema. Cinema allows you to see what happens, but well-written prose allows you to experience it. Instead of being told what happens by a seemingly impartial (and boring) narrator, the narration can be a lens through which you can see through the eye of the protagonist. There was none of that here. Each story told me what happened in that person's life, without really letting me get into their head. Perhaps that's the preferred way in "Life sucks" stories to avoid causing depression in yourself.
This somewhat relates to a previous blog post of mine, about cinematic descriptions:
http://steffenwolf.blogspot.com/2009/03/cinematic-descriptions.html
4. almost all are in 1st person. I've heard many editors complain about first person stories, how writers should generally stick to 3rd person. I'd never understood, but I think now I'm beginning to. I felt like first person was used to counteract the #3 on my list, getting close into the protagonist's point of view. Rather than going through the difficult labor of making me see through the protagonist's eyes, just use first person narration instead. After all, what's closer into the person's head than first person? The trouble is when first person is used as a substitute for #3. In one case, a woman is talking to her friend and the friend suspects her husband is cheating on her. She's right, and it's the narrating woman who is the other woman, but we don't find that out until halfway through the story! When the protagonist withholds information from me that's not mysterious, it's annoying and distancing.
5. The opening sentence and paragraph have nothing to do with the rest. I like opening sentences best when they are like a topic sentence of the story--they tell what the stories about without giving too much away. For example, in the cheating story mentioned in #4, the story starts out by saying they got an unusual September snow, then spends the whole first paragraph telling about. The story has nothing to do with weather in general or snow in particular, so when the topic suddenly switched to cheating husbands in the 2nd paragraph it was annoying and disorienting. Did they stick that first paragraph on by mistake? If it had nothing to do with the story you could paste it onto the beginning of ANY story and it would make the same amount of sense.
6. no real ending or beginning. Most of the stories didn't really have a beginning nor really have an ending. The stories began when the words started, and ended when the words stopped. Typically, the real story begins when something changes in the person's life, and ends at some kind of resolution, whether it be death, or change of character, or the resolution of the actual conflict. Not so in these stories.
7. The stories all had a tone and them of "Woe is me ain't my life terrible". It's easy enough to find these stories on the news, do I really need to seek out fiction that does the same thing? And I really hope the proportion of protagonists who hate their lives isn't proportional to real people who hate their lives, else we are all in a lot of trouble!
8. Not in every story, but maybe 1/4 to 1/2, pedophilia is an element, whether it's explicit sex or just creepy looks from teenagers' dads. Maybe I'm just naive, but I like to think that it doesn't happen to everybody as often as these stories would have me believe.
Anyway, these two magazines label themselves as literary, making me question whether I ever want to submit to a literary publication. I don't think my stories could fit in, if these two copies are the norm.
Among other things, each of these magazines cost me 9 dollars. Even the more expensive speculative novels don't cost that much, and the expensive ones of those are often 800 pages! It's worth it for a little market research, but I can't imagine paying that regularly for a magazine.
Does anyone have any literary publications that they think are particularly good examples? I would love to read one that would make me want to buy a second copy. I welcome any input--if you suggest one that I can find a copy of, I'll try to give it a read. I don't want to make blanket statements about literary magazines without a well-rounded sample.
In these two issues, I only enjoyed one story, but it was the one published back in 1921, written by F. Scott Fitzgerald, "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button". No doubt it was included more as part of a cross-marketing campaign, but I'm glad I read it. It's rather dry, and doesn't get very close into any of the character's heads, but that was more of the style of the time, so I'm not going to criticize reading/writing tastes of a long-gone decade. I can tell even just from seeing the previews that they changed quite a bit from the stort-story, which is fine. The short story is a neat idea, but not nearly fleshed-out enough to want to spend two hours with. I'd been wanting to see the movie, so it's raised my interest level.
The rest of the stories were pretty much all the same as each other, so I won't list them off. It was clear that many of the writers have a whole lot of talent, I'm not disputing that. There were some great turns of phrases and some interesting moments that let the talent shine through, but I think they could write better: the talent's there but they're holding themselves back.
I tried to read these with an open mind, I really did. I'll always be, first and foremost, a speculative fiction fan. Like so many things, this is just a matter of taste. I've like many non-speculative books and stories, but nothing quite hits that "sense-of-wonder" button like a good science fiction or fantasy. I didn't try to compare these literary stories to speculative stories as that wouldn't have been fair. I wanted to decide if I would just enjoy them on their own, not compare them to some other ideal. I really didn't care for them, and while trying to examine why, I made a short list of things that seemed to be in common between many or all of these stories:
1. No cohesive theme. After I read something, I like to have a feel for the theme. That doesn't mean it has to be spelled out with an explicit moral, like the ending of a fable, but I like to have a feel for what it was trying to say. Either these stories were trying to give it no theme or too many themes. Too many themes is just as bad as no theme, as each one is diluted by the presence of too many others. Perhaps they all had the theme "Life sucks". That's possible, but I don't really care to read them in that case. I can get enough "Life sucks" themes by watching the news.
2. No plot, no climax, just a series of small things happening after another. Like ripping a page from someone's journal at random. You see some of that person's day-to-day struggles, but you're told that these struggles have been that way for a long time, and nothing in the story hints that they will be any different in the days to come.
3. No attempt to get close into the protagonist's point of view. My favorite stories are the ones that allow you to get into the protagonist's head. This is why prose has the potential to be so much better in its way than cinema. Cinema allows you to see what happens, but well-written prose allows you to experience it. Instead of being told what happens by a seemingly impartial (and boring) narrator, the narration can be a lens through which you can see through the eye of the protagonist. There was none of that here. Each story told me what happened in that person's life, without really letting me get into their head. Perhaps that's the preferred way in "Life sucks" stories to avoid causing depression in yourself.
This somewhat relates to a previous blog post of mine, about cinematic descriptions:
http://steffenwolf.blogspot.com/2009/03/cinematic-descriptions.html
4. almost all are in 1st person. I've heard many editors complain about first person stories, how writers should generally stick to 3rd person. I'd never understood, but I think now I'm beginning to. I felt like first person was used to counteract the #3 on my list, getting close into the protagonist's point of view. Rather than going through the difficult labor of making me see through the protagonist's eyes, just use first person narration instead. After all, what's closer into the person's head than first person? The trouble is when first person is used as a substitute for #3. In one case, a woman is talking to her friend and the friend suspects her husband is cheating on her. She's right, and it's the narrating woman who is the other woman, but we don't find that out until halfway through the story! When the protagonist withholds information from me that's not mysterious, it's annoying and distancing.
5. The opening sentence and paragraph have nothing to do with the rest. I like opening sentences best when they are like a topic sentence of the story--they tell what the stories about without giving too much away. For example, in the cheating story mentioned in #4, the story starts out by saying they got an unusual September snow, then spends the whole first paragraph telling about. The story has nothing to do with weather in general or snow in particular, so when the topic suddenly switched to cheating husbands in the 2nd paragraph it was annoying and disorienting. Did they stick that first paragraph on by mistake? If it had nothing to do with the story you could paste it onto the beginning of ANY story and it would make the same amount of sense.
6. no real ending or beginning. Most of the stories didn't really have a beginning nor really have an ending. The stories began when the words started, and ended when the words stopped. Typically, the real story begins when something changes in the person's life, and ends at some kind of resolution, whether it be death, or change of character, or the resolution of the actual conflict. Not so in these stories.
7. The stories all had a tone and them of "Woe is me ain't my life terrible". It's easy enough to find these stories on the news, do I really need to seek out fiction that does the same thing? And I really hope the proportion of protagonists who hate their lives isn't proportional to real people who hate their lives, else we are all in a lot of trouble!
8. Not in every story, but maybe 1/4 to 1/2, pedophilia is an element, whether it's explicit sex or just creepy looks from teenagers' dads. Maybe I'm just naive, but I like to think that it doesn't happen to everybody as often as these stories would have me believe.
Friday, April 10, 2009
Invisible formatting
Does anybody else hate MS Word's invisible formatting? Where if you accidentally delete one then suddenly a big chunk of your file goes wonky? Does anyone know if there's a way to reveal them?
Specifically I'm trying to post a story to a critique forum and just one phrase disappears though it's formatting is totally identical to every other word in the document as far as I can tell. It's the following sentence:
My jet touched down in Des Moines at eleven, and I walked into the diner at eleven thirty.
The "eleven thirty" at the end of the sentence disappears when I copy it to a particular forum. Blogger wouldn't even allow the post because of HTML tags it didn't like, so this is a retyping of it c(I'm not saying it's Blogger's fault, just further annoyance). That one sentence had about 100 lines of HTML formatting crammed around it.
A quick Google search reveals this is a common complaint about Word. Other word processors have an optional "reveal" that allows you to edit this stuff. *sigh* Why do I use Word again?
Specifically I'm trying to post a story to a critique forum and just one phrase disappears though it's formatting is totally identical to every other word in the document as far as I can tell. It's the following sentence:
My jet touched down in Des Moines at eleven, and I walked into the diner at eleven thirty.
The "eleven thirty" at the end of the sentence disappears when I copy it to a particular forum. Blogger wouldn't even allow the post because of HTML tags it didn't like, so this is a retyping of it c(I'm not saying it's Blogger's fault, just further annoyance). That one sentence had about 100 lines of HTML formatting crammed around it.
A quick Google search reveals this is a common complaint about Word. Other word processors have an optional "reveal" that allows you to edit this stuff. *sigh* Why do I use Word again?
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