reading deprivation week

I hit Week 4 in The Artist’s Way, otherwise known as Reading Deprivation Week (okay, it’s otherwise known as “Recovering a Sense of Integrity, but one does that by–*gulp*–not reading!).

Here’s what Julia Cameron has to say about depriving ourselves of the words of others:

It is a paradox that by emptying our lives of distraction we are actually filling the well. Without distractions, we are once again thrust into the sensory world.

For most blocked creatives, reading is an addiction. We gobble the words of others rather than digest our own thoughts and feelings, rather than cook up something of our own.

… we will be rewarded for our reading deprivation with embarrassing speed. Our reward will be a new outflow. our own art, our own thoughts and feelings, will begin to nudge aside the sludge of blockage, to loosen it and move it upward and outward until once again our well is running freely.

I get this. I so get this. I know that I OD on books, stories, blogs, opinions, rants, articles. I know that I take into too much information from the outside, all in the name of research and keeping up, and get so bloated on it that I can hardly think my own thoughts. So, this week, instead of reading one of the four new books I got at Borders last week (*SIGH*), I’m working on my own stories. Instead of reading blogs and keeping up with forums, I’m working on my own space here in ‘NetLand and journaling, letting myself hear my own voice for once.

Today I washed six windows. It took me an hour-and-a-half, but David took the children hiking and left me alone with my windows, my cleaning supplies, classical music and my thoughts. It was a beautiful day, sunny and cloudy, with a strong cold wind. My thoughts drifted here-there-and-everywhere. I dreamed up some backstory, gained an insight, processed a situation.

It was lovely but HARD. Checking my RSS feed is an ingrained habit; I do it without even thinking. So is just picking up a magazine or a book. But I got good stuff out of today.

And six clean windows.

spacey

I recently finished reading Mary Roach’s Packing for Mars, a humorous look at what’s involved in getting and sustaining several humans in space. This book ponders several weighty (k, I couldn’t resist this) questions, such as: How does one go to the bathroom in zero-G? And, how long can a person wear the same pair of underpants before it falls to shreds? Also, why is a bad idea to take a deli sandwich into space?

All questions that I’m sure keep you awake at night. This is the private life of astronauts–all the non-glamorous, sometimes funny, often embarrassing stuff that makes me glad to spend the rest of my days feet firmly on Planet Earth.

Today I read the kids a picture book about zooming off into space. Then we put the book down and watched a real shuttle launch on YouTube (can I say I love YouTube?). Here’s Atlantis launching from the Kennedy Space Center. It’s a long video, but worth a look. Every time they mentioned the velocity of the shuttle (which just kept increasing and increasing till it hit 11, 000 miles an hour(!)), Sir I’s eyes grew rounder and rounder. “Wow!”

I confess–I get all tingly and teary-eyed over shuttle launches. There’s such a huge barrier to getting into space and living in it for even a few months. That we’ve launched shuttles at all is a testament to human ingenuity, courage and persistence. And those astronauts? They’ve got guts. You won’t catch me going anywhere strapped to tons and tons of burning rocket fuel, going a zillion miles an hour, with no way to bail out–or survive even if you could.

And besides, rockets and shuttles tickle the same part of my brain that loves dragons, spaceships, and other ginormous fast fiery things. The part that goes squee! over cool technology, fantastic beasts and awesome magic. The part that loves adventurers and frontiersmen, and desperate missions and doing the impossible (or merely the highly improbable).

The part that’s still a kid and breathes “wow” when shuttles break the sound barrier.

what makes a character work?

Thanks for all the comments about your favorite characters in response to my last post.  After coming up with my list,  I thought about why those characters are so appealing to me. There are certain character types and certain contexts that really work for me. They may not for you, but that’s okay. You can tell me why you love your favorite characters in the comments.

For what it’s worth, here’s my list:

Characters who come out of the dark side. Yes, I love me a good redemptive story. I love characters who start out bad, or conflicted, and, after a lot of struggle and pain, make it over to the Good Guys’ Team. Characters who have to overcome their own culture, upbringing, past or personality to do the right thing.

Also, the dramatic character change *has* to be logical. An about-face with nothing to base it on doesn’t work me. The seeds for the change should be present from the beginning.

And, while I like characters who change, I also like characters who stay the same. I like the steady ones, the reliable ones. No matter how else they change or grow, there are one or two deep-rooted values that they will never compromise–whether it’s staying faithful to a spouse, or never kicking puppies. No matter what the provocation, and no matter how tempted they are, and no matter how much easier life would be if they just kicked that cute little spaniel puppy with the melting brown eyes.

I like characters who are not perfect. And by that I mean they have real flaws, not virtues in disguise. “I am so compassionate that I always stop to help old ladies cross the street/rescue kittens from trees, therefore enabling the bad guys to catch me by disguising themselves as helpless old ladies and/or kittens” does not count. Give me characters who struggle with envy, pride, anger, impatience, impetuousness. Characters who are not the best at everything they try and who have to work for their successes.

I’m also fond of underdogs. Those characters who are at a disadvantage because of lack of ability, lack of social status, or physique. Those who work hard (see above!), strive to rise above their disadvantages, and use wit and humor to get in and out of trouble.  Oh, and I detest angsty whiners. If the character mopes around miserably for more than a few pages, then it cancels out any credit they get for being an underdog.

And please, I want characters who have agency. Whose actions drive the plot, not the other way around. If a character has to do something TSTL in order to get the plot change you want, don’t do it. You cannot tell me that a character is intelligent and street-savvy on one page, then have her go into the haunted basement while the lights are out by herself. Without a flashlight. And a big EAT ME sign painted on her forehead. Passivity is an even worse sin. Characters should do things–and suffer the consequences–not constantly have things done to them.

Characters should show a whole range of moods and feelings. I don’t like characters who strike the same note over and over again, whether it’s snark, boredom, rage, naivete, whatever. I’m tired of characters who substitute a smart mouth for depth and complexity.

And I like characters who have that certain spark. It’s hard to define what that is, but some characters are so delightful and surprising that they leave me grinning whenever I read their scenes. Maybe it’s because they think out of the box, or pull off the most outrageous plans. Maybe they’re an unexpected–but appealing–combination of attributes I’ve never seen before. Maybe because I read about them and go, Yes, I know exactly how this character feels right now. Maybe that character and I have the same hopes, fears, reactions.

What about you? Why do you love your favorite characters?

characters vs. everything else

I admit it. I’m like a magpie. I’m attracted to the new, the striking, the hey-cool! in the books I read. A never-been-done-before premise. An inventive world stuffed full of details. An awesome magic system. Lyrical prose. A well-turned phrase.  Oh, I like high-concept too. “Polynesian flying robots battle Mesoamerican martial artists in an alternative nineteenth century world where most of Europe was destroyed by a meteorite”? I’m SOOO there.

But I’ve been going through my reviews lately and I realized that the stories that stay with me, the ones I *love* as opposed to just *admire*, the ones whose authors I stalk and whose sequels I impatiently await, are the ones whose characters come alive for me. I’ve read books by authors whose prose sparkled like the jewels in Ali Baba’s cave, but I cannot remember the name of a single character. Books whose narrative voice was witty and wonderful, but whose characters were mere cardboard cutouts. Books with worlds I could have never imagined–worlds that were unusual and worked–but whose characters were so bland or unlikeable I couldn’t stick with the story. These are the books that push my hey-cool! buttons but didn’t touch my heart.

Because really what stay with me after I’ve put the book down are the characters. If they are well-done, if they are compelling and sympathetic, if I’m emotionally involved in them, then I’ll come back for more. Characters steal my heart, not clever prose or well-built worlds.

As a writer, I focus a LOT of worldbuiling. Partly because I write fantasy, partly because my stories end up demanding it, and partly because I consider this to be a weak spot of mine. Now, with this revelation from my reader-brain, I’m thinking I need to put my characters under the microscope a bit more.

Who are some of your favorite characters, and why?

inspirations

I’m determined to start this week off on a good note. I’m over being sick (save for the Lingering Cough), and I had a busy but great day yesterday. I have an hour to myself, with children being occupied by their various Quiet Time activities, a cup of peppermint tea, soothing music, and a chance to reflect on what’s inspiring me recently.

Snow! We’ve had a LOT of snow come our way recently. Even better than the sight of freshly-fallen snow is my kids’ reactions to all this white stuff. The plows have pushed so much snow to the sides of the road that much of it has fallen down our stone wall and into our yard, which is sunken down a level below the road. The olders love climbing up and down this “mountain”. Yesterday, all five of us went sledding in the park. We were the only people there on a lovely not-too-cold late afternoon, and we all had a BLAST wiping out in the snow. David took embarrassing videos. Of course.

Sir I. wrote a poem about snow. The first verse goes:

Snow frosting
Snow white
Snow beauty
Shining in the bright

Speaking of white spaces, here’s an article that Jo forwarded me about making room for creativity in your life–room that the writer refers to as “white spaces”. I found myself nodding emphatically at every point, sometimes rather sheepishly. Simmering ideas? Decluttering living areas? Having unscheduled time to do nothing? Unplugging from the wider world? Fostering a few close connections? Yes, yes, yes, yes, and YES. I know all this, and yet I need to hear it again and again, because white spaces quickly get taken over by lots of busy neon letters saying DO THIS and a bunch of blinking exclamation marks thrown in for good measure.

I love this world map labeled with the translations of the countries’ names. Via Juliette Wade.

And this quote by Michelangelo: I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set him free.”

This is particularly inspiring right now because Kai’s book is so full of tangents, dead ends, pointless exposition, and wild leaps of logic that I’m already despairing the revision stage. (Not to mention whining over how come I can’t write perfect first drafts yet.) Then I see this quote, and I know that writing the first draft is only cutting a block of marble from my mental quarry. Once I have the raw material, I can shape and carve until I set my story free.

What’s inspiring you today?

o christmas tree

I love it when we get our Christmas tree. Because we don’t want to overdose on Christmas *before* December 25th, we wait until the second weekend of the month to get it. I love its spicy green scent. I love the way the ornaments glint and glitter among the branches. I love sitting in the rocking chair next to it, enjoy its peaceful beauty, the red ribbon, the small fairy lights.

Everyone has their own special ornaments and Christmas tree traditions. We drink egg nog and sing carols after our decorating. It’s specially fun now because the olders are able to join the singalong, too. There are several ornaments that are dear to me: the handmade ones that my kids have made, from painted wooden letters to child-stitched felt ones; the one survivor of a set of four a cousin gave us; a glass ball with a painted panda in a Santa hat from Hong Kong; a porcelain Celtic cross from Ireland.

Thinking about my traditions has made me wonder how my characters would decorate their trees. You know, if they had trees in the first place and celebrated the same holidays.

Kai, for one, would say she didn’t want a tree, but really? She does. She wants to belong, she wants to be part of her people’s traditions. She’d find the most imperfect tree in the lot though; the lopsided one, or the thin and scraggly one, or the one with a crooked top. She’d bring that tree home and she’d decorate it with old and imperfect things she’d find in thrift shops, and natural things like pinecones and winter berries and acorns. She’d string popcorn and drape it around the tree, and put oranges under it. And a pyramid of canned food, which is what she lives on.

The Marquis of Rocquespur (from Quartz)–well, he’d get the biggest showiest tree around. He’d dress the tree up the same way he dresses himself, in shades of purple and gold. His tree would grand, but prickly, with scratchy purple tinsel-y stuff. He’d pick glittery ornaments, like miniature disco balls, covered in mirrors, or sequined stars. Hard, reflective, glitzy, rough-textured. Lots of sharp angles.

Oh, and he’d have colored lights on his tree, too. Annoying blinky colored lights. In randomized patterns. The sort that induce epileptic fits.

Rafe is too busy working to have a tree. Knowing his luck–and dedication to duty–he’d spend Christmas being chased through sewers by bad guys and war machines. But, I have the sneaking suspicion, he’d like to have a family and one day go out, cut down a tree, bring it home and stand it up in the tree stand thingy while the littles danced around excitedly. He’d get the ornament boxes out of the basement, and untangle the lights, and put hooks on all the balls that mysteriously lost theirs. He wouldn’t care what the decorations were—if his family wants all cow ornaments, or just pink ones–that’d be okay with him. He’d  just want to see their faces shining with excitement.

I haven’t mentioned Christmas trees to Isabella, though. I might get The Look.

Your turn. How would your characters decorate their Christmas trees?

hello, december

I’ve been away a long time from the blog, haven’t I? Somehow November slipped away from me, and December was starting to as well, but I caught the slippery thing firmly with both hands.

You’ll be happy to know that I am out of my Quartz-induced trance and ready to turn to other projects. I spent this evening brainstorming on Cool New Project which is going to be *gulp* much much bigger than anything else I’ve ever worked on. For one, it might have as many as four major characters and two storylines. Probably more, if the worldbuilding ends up being as complex as I expect it will. Not to worry, I have plenty of time to develop this concept while I finish up Kai’s book.

Speaking of which, I read my latest notes on Kai’s book and I’m totally thrilled with the themes and concepts I’m exploring in the story. So thrilled that I went off to interlibrary-loan (yes, I just made that into a verb) books about plutonium and Mongolia. I love how my writer brain puts all these random things together!

I’ve fallen woefully behind on my reading roundups. I’ll play catch up (with brief reviews) the rest of this week. Gotta get my Best of… list ready.

How about you? What are you all up to?

fairy tales 4: more retellings, and online resources

Last week, I highlighted our favorite picture book versions of fairy tales. This week I want to focus on what I truly love (more so than the originals)–fairy tale retellings!

Robin McKinley’s Beauty is the first fairy tale retelling I ever read. I loved how it fleshed out details, made the characters easier to like and empathize with, how it made sense. Since then, I’ve always been drawn to fairy tale retellings: Mercedes Lackeys’ Elemental Masters series which marry reimagined  fairy tales with elemental magic in Edwardian England; Gail Carson Levine’s Ella Enchanted which finally finally gave a more plausible reason for Cinderella’s predicament (besides an unnaturally meek personality!); yes, even the movie Ever After, hopelessly utopian and impractical ideals and all (not to mention that wince-inducing line about Danielle being taught by a master swordsman—who died when she was…. eight?); Jim Hines’ The Stepsister Scheme featuring a trio of kick-ass princesses.

What are your favorite fairy tale retellings? I’m always on the lookout for more!

Can’t get enough of fairy tales? Check out SurLaLune for annotated fairy tales; Andrew Lang’s various color-named  fairy books at Project Gutenberg; plus some e-zines: Cabinet des Fees, Enchanted Conversation and New Fairy Tales.

Any other great online fairy tale resources I missed?

    city-inspired creativity

    1. Create a city skyline. Check here and here and here for cityscape projects for kids. Here are some skyline photos to get you inspired.
    2. Make a map of a city. This could be a street map, a subway map, the floor plan of a skyscraper or a museum. We made subway maps last week, featuring  fanciful names for stations. Our Red Line boasted names like Fire and Strawberry; the Purple Line had princessy names like Tiara and Sparkle; the Blue Line reveled in watery names such as Ripple and Wake; and the Green Line had nature and mineral names–Leaf, Tree, Emerald, Agate.
    3. Read some non-fiction about cities. These books about Hong Kong and Beijing on my to-read list.
    4. Write a couple of paragraphs describing a city, real or imaginary. Some aspects to think about and capture: the mood, the lighting, the architecture, the roads, the vehicles, the attitude of the people. Here’s one I did for my fantasy city, Blackburn.
    5. Pretend that you’re going on an all-expenses-paid week-long trip to the city of your choice. Plan your time there. Where will you go? What will you do? (Me, I’d go to either London and do as many of these walking tours as I could fit in, or Hong Kong. If I had to choose a city I haven’t already been to, I’d go to Sydney, Australia to visit Jo and have her show me around :D )
    6. Write a scene that takes place in a public area of a big city. It could be a chase through a crowded subway station; a quarrel at a major intersection; a reconciliation in the public gardens.

    fairy tales 1

    Miss M. and I are both fascinated by fairy tales. She likes them because they have princesses (and wicked stepmothers and princes and horses). I am intrigued by them, often not by what they contain, but what they leave out. Characters act illogically sometimes (Why did Snow White keep opening the door to peasant women even after all those attempts on her life? And why, knowing that the girl was so addle-brained, didn’t one of the dwarves stay home to protect her?). Details are pregnant with meaning–but I don’t know what that meaning is (why a pumpkin, for instance?). I am irritated by the many passive females in them, by Sleeping Beauty for falling asleep, by Snow White for constantly needing to be looked after, by Cinderella for oh-so-patiently enduring her servitude.  So I twist fairy tales, to fill in the gaps, to flesh out characters, to reframe them so that they make sense to my modern mindset.

    Yet there is a universality to these tales, that tug at the heart and at the deep dark places of the mind, that echo across cultures and generations. There’ s something primal about them–when I play with them (and I have whole folder of writings entitled Fairy Tales!), I feel like I am coming back to drink from some old old well. Something about curses and magic, about men being transformed into beasts, the power of true love’s kiss, of giants and witches and trolls; all these seem to come out of psychic landscape that all humans inhabit.

    How do you feel about fairy tales? Which is your favorite fairy tale?

    Here is one of my own light-hearted experiments to understand, and give a context to fairy tales. I’m particularly fond of this one because I managed to allude to so many stories in one go.