All is business around these parts today, but I’d be remiss if I didn’t point you to the best "reading guide" to ever come along with a book. It’s “The Cabana on the Lake of the Dead” Drinking Games and Reading Guide, companion to Alan DeNiro‘s debut collection Skinny Dipping in the Lake of the Dead. I understand bootlegs will be available at BEA.
Drink If You Want To Read More »
I don’t believe in observing all the "rules" of storytelling all the time, but when I become aware I’m breaking one, or decide to break one, I do like to acknowledge it and think over why I’m making the choice and whether there’s a trade-off and if it’s the right choice/trade-off for the story. I want to throw out something I’m thinking about, but not have the discussion really be about rules and conventions, per se; I want to talk about this specific one.
So.
One of my very least favorite things in a quest narrative (or, if you want to be all prissy and Campbellian about it A Hero’s Journey) or any sort of story where the protag has to take up a torch of some kind is the initial "refusal of the call." So often, it strikes me as story water-treading. I, as a reader and audience member, know the call will be accepted. If the call’s not accepted, then there’s no story. The reasoning for the refusal often becomes perfunctory for just this very reason.
Romantic comedies are the worst offenders, or one of the worst anyway, in that the resistance is sometimes silly and sustained for wayyyyy too long. But that’s not really a quest narrative in the way I’m talking about it here, unless you view the romance as the quest, which would really make it an incredibly lame quest. I think of quest, I think Big Stakes and Personal Stakes, not just one or the other. I’m pretty sure you’ll instantly know the kind of story I’m talking about.
I’ll say again. I hate that refusal to the call business, at least when it’s given more than an inch of space. I’m thinking about this because Aztec Dance Tunes is a quest story. I don’t want to get too far into the details, because I’m not ready to talk about them yet, but for the sake of clarity there is a girl and she is given a huge, impossible task with huge, impossible stakes if she screws it up. And I think she can skip this step, the refusing the call step.
Because I think a character can be reasonably expected to know when something like this falls on top of them that there’s no easy way to get out from under it. I think it’s believable emotionally for a character to think, "Yeah, got hit by that. Even I know I have to do this now." And there can still be all the rational fear and doubt and why me? of it, but the story doesn’t stop for this step. I might also say that this particular character has been around some pretty weird things and is a reader (in other words, she knows how stories go) and whip-smart.
Why I bring this up is that you are a pretty savvy lot of readers and I want to see: Do you feel like you do need this step to buy into a character taking on a quest in a narrative like this? (And yes, I realize that execution is everything and there are no details here; it’s not something I’ll hold you to!) Or are you impatient with this dithering step too? Discuss.
p.s. I promise, swear, cross my heart and stick pins and needles in something nearby, that I’ll catch up on email before I leave for BEA. Because after that, comes Wiscon, and after that, sleep. So if I don’t answer now, there will be no answering!
Refusing the Call, or Devices of Potentially Limited Use Read More »
The Fountain Award winner has now been announced: Stephanie Harrell for "Girl Reporter" (One Story). Yay!
For those of you who don’t know (hey, the Fountain is newish; this is only the third year), the Fountain Award is given each year to "a speculative short story of exceptional literary quality, chosen from work nominated by magazine and anthology editors." And the winner gets $1,000.
I loved this story a great deal; follow the link above to see some thoughts about it from me and my fellow jurors Carol Emshwiller and Jim Kelly. Being on such a lovely and brilliant jury was a fabulous experience (the other jurors were Mary Anne Mohanraj and Jeffrey Ford). Suffice to say, there were a number of wonderful stories in the running, and many of them are on the honorable mentions list, which you can also see at the link above.
There’s a short interview with Harrell and an excerpt of the story at One Story and you can see a photo of the author’s pirate eyepatch and beautiful blue hair AND hear her read the story at KQED.
I want to single out a few other stories that turned up in my Fountain reading, but which aren’t on the list mentioned above. They are well worth your time to seek out:
"Alienation and Love in the Hebrew Alphabet" by Lavie Tidhar (ChiZine)
"The Belt" by Theodora Goss (Flytrap)
"The Boy Who Was Born Wrapped in Barbed Wire" by Christopher Barzak (Endicott Studio)
"Under the Bridge" by Hannah Wolf Bowen (ChiZine)
Fountain Award, Er, Awarded Read More »
| Katharine Hepburn You scored 21% grit, 47% wit, 38% flair, and 14% class! |
|
You are the fabulously quirky and independent woman of character. You go your own way, follow your own drummer, take your own lead. You stand head and shoulders next to your partner, but you are perfectly willing and able to stand alone. Others might be more classically beautiful or conventionally woman-like, but you possess a more fundamental common sense and off-kilter charm, making interesting men fall at your feet. You can pick them up or leave them there as you see fit. You share the screen with the likes of Spencer Tracy and Cary Grant, thinking men who like strong women.
Find out what kind of classic leading man you’d make by taking the |
 |
My test tracked 4 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender:
|
| Link: The Classic Dames Test written by gidgetgoes on Ok Cupid, home of the 32-Type Dating Test |
And for gender balance:
| Jimmy Stewart You scored 23% Tough, 14% Roguish, 42% Friendly, and 19% Charming! |
|
You are the fun and friendly boy next door, the classic nice guy who still manages to get the girl most of the time. You’re every nice girl’s dreamboat, open and kind, nutty and charming, even a little mischievous at times, but always a real stand up guy. You’re dependable and forthright, and women are drawn to your reliability, even as they’re dazzled by your sense of adventure and fun. You try to be tough when you need to be, and will gladly stand up for any damsel in distress, but you’d rather catch a girl with a little bit of flair. Your leading ladies include Jean Arthur and Donna Reed, those sweet girl-next-door types.
Find out what kind of classic dame you’d make by taking the |
 |
My test tracked 4 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender:
|
| Link: The Classic Leading Man Test written by gidgetgoes on Ok Cupid, home of the 32-Type Dating Test |
(Via Literaticat.)
Laura Miller explains why she didn’t vote in the NYT "Most Distinguished Novel" survey:
My point in objecting was not just some namby-pamby reluctance to make any relative evaluation about literature, because that really is an important thing that critics do: declare that some books are better than others. I have no problem doing that, but I hate imposing a rigidly, atomistic structure on it. Ultimately, novels are so diverse that once they attain a certain level of quality, they really can’t be meaningfully ranked against each other. Some people I discussed this with had a hard time understanding that not wanting to exert an excess of judgment isn’t the same thing as refusing to make any judgment at all. I don’t know why this is so difficult to grasp; it’s like the difference between being decently neat and having obsessive-compulsive disorder.
Well, yes. There’s more.
*Who knew there was a French Extreme Metal band inspired by Moliere?
Thursday Hangovers Read More »
Okay, so, why not? This is my other favorite show at the moment and we’re up to the reunion special tonight (which Ms. Keane has heard will be a catty debacle) and next week’s the finale. (Photo also snitched from Erin.)
Anyway, my two favorite Top Chef-obsessed bloggers are Erin and the fabulous Liza Palmer. Here’s why.
Liza Palmer: Okay, it’s on – Tom Colicchio. If Harold doesn’t win this bitch I swear…I’m…well, I’m not really going to do much of anything – I mean, I’m not really confrontational or for that matter very motivated or anything…so, it’s more of an empty threat…but, I will seriously be very confused and more than a little angry. For like a couple minutes until someone waves something shiny in front of me and then that would more than likely grab my attention pretty good.
And…
Erin Keane: Further gratuitous Harold commentary: sleeveless black t-shirt? Hot. Though I hope those white shoes were, like, regulation uniform shoes or something. They looked orthopedic to me. I should know. I wore orthopedic shoes until kindergarten. What the fuck, I was pigeontoed. But I never wore them into a sex shop, or paired them with a hot sleeveless number that makes me look like the oldest boy left in high school, the one with the Z-28 and the substitute teacher’s phone number, you know the guy who’d been shaving, or not, for so long he no longer fronted the ratstache just to prove he could, preferring to graduate to a three-o’clock shadow that gave your face a particular flavor of rug burn that betrayed your afterschool activities to your parents who angrily whispered things like "juvie" and "Outward Bound" after they thought you’d gone to bed. God, where did I put my Guns ‘n’ Roses album?
