When you're part of the majority, you don't generally think about your culture until you find yourself in a situation where you're surrounded by someone else's. I imagine most of the people reading this listen to music and watch TV with the sound turned up—that is, we're hearing.
Did you ever think of using that word to describe yourself? Maybe not, unless you happen to be a hearing person with connections to the Deaf world.
Yes, I capitalized it. That wasn't a mistake.
There are a lot of differences between Deaf culture and the hearing majority, probably enough for another blog post or two sometime. A central feature is sign language. That doesn't mean there aren't people within the community who can and do speak. This can be a sticky issue, though—again, plenty I could ramble on about.
My point right now is that there are individuals who feel caught in the middle, who enjoy being part of the Deaf community, but also feel a connection to the hearing world. They listen to music and express themselves most comfortably in spoken English. This doesn't always go over well with others.
Tomorrow, there's a public "speaking" competition at school. Entrants have the choice of signing or speaking. This year, only a few students have entered ... but they've all chosen to speak, and we'll have an interpreter present. I'm interested to see the kinds of reactions they get. Will everyone focus on the content of the messages and whether they were effective in getting their points across? Will some complain that they should have signed, even though doing so would limit the eloquence of these particular students?
I'm proud of them for having the guts to get up in front of their peers and make a formal presentation—whether in speech or sign, it's not easy. If anyone gives them a hard time, it might be my turn to speak up.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Primer #1 on Deaf Can/Can't
Every so often, I'll get a particular comment about Fingerprints on critique sites—something about Tasmin (the Deaf character) displaying unrealistic English skills.
These commentators mean well and undoubtedly speak from their personal experience, so I don't mind. I see it as opportunity to spread a little knowledge.
When I was in grad school, we frequently discussed the hated statistic: Most deaf people read at a fourth grade level. Please note that the statistic on that website is actually that the median reading level among 17- and 18-year-olds in the sample was 4.0, so there's one inaccuracy that creeps into the discussion. Generalizing that, half of the individuals in the sample read at or below that level ... and half read at that level or above.
Another thing to note: The literacy statistics among the general U.S. population aren't too great, either. Check here for some stats that those in medical fields should keep in mind. There are a lot of reasons for this, including school performance, education level of parents, and language access.
That last point—language access—is likely the biggest hurdle for deaf kids. The most accessible language is most likely not one that's used in the home when the deaf kid comes along. An exception is when there is a Deaf parent (or two), which does happen, but overall isn't that likely. Some hearing parents dive right into signing classes and/or take other steps, working their tails off to help their kids succeed.
Regardless, a huge number of variables are involved ... enough to make generalizations pretty useless.
What I do know is that I've worked with deaf students on both ends of the spectrum. I've known deaf kids who read above grade level. I know several others in high school who read and write at or very close to their grade level. It happens, and if I see it at our tiny little school, it happens everywhere to one degree or another.
So do I stand by Tasmin's skills? Absolutely, and not just because the character is meant to be unusually intelligent. I chose to focus on the "can" ... and the only thing Tasmin can't do is hear.
These commentators mean well and undoubtedly speak from their personal experience, so I don't mind. I see it as opportunity to spread a little knowledge.
When I was in grad school, we frequently discussed the hated statistic: Most deaf people read at a fourth grade level. Please note that the statistic on that website is actually that the median reading level among 17- and 18-year-olds in the sample was 4.0, so there's one inaccuracy that creeps into the discussion. Generalizing that, half of the individuals in the sample read at or below that level ... and half read at that level or above.
Another thing to note: The literacy statistics among the general U.S. population aren't too great, either. Check here for some stats that those in medical fields should keep in mind. There are a lot of reasons for this, including school performance, education level of parents, and language access.
That last point—language access—is likely the biggest hurdle for deaf kids. The most accessible language is most likely not one that's used in the home when the deaf kid comes along. An exception is when there is a Deaf parent (or two), which does happen, but overall isn't that likely. Some hearing parents dive right into signing classes and/or take other steps, working their tails off to help their kids succeed.
Regardless, a huge number of variables are involved ... enough to make generalizations pretty useless.
What I do know is that I've worked with deaf students on both ends of the spectrum. I've known deaf kids who read above grade level. I know several others in high school who read and write at or very close to their grade level. It happens, and if I see it at our tiny little school, it happens everywhere to one degree or another.
So do I stand by Tasmin's skills? Absolutely, and not just because the character is meant to be unusually intelligent. I chose to focus on the "can" ... and the only thing Tasmin can't do is hear.
Saturday, January 15, 2011
All Together Now: Covers
Quick look at covers for all three. #1 might be changing though--graphic design pro brother wants to play with it. ;-)
ETA (6/2011): Here's a quickie cover I've made for my latest ms, just for fun.
And another one:
ETA (6/2011): Here's a quickie cover I've made for my latest ms, just for fun.
And another one:
Friday, December 3, 2010
Sleep-Deprivation of Minors
I was pondering what gives a writer the feeling of, "Hey, I'm doing all right." You could make a big-time best-seller list. You could get a rave review in a major publication, or a bunch of 5-star reviews on Amazon. Can't say I've experienced any of those (yet), but still, I've thought about it.
My favorite? Knowing I'm contributing to the sleep-deprivation of minors.
You know that feeling--when you start reading a book and before you know it, it's three in the morning ... then four ... then the sun's coming up.
Well, with a day job and grown-up responsibilities, I can't indulge in that very often anymore. Maybe on weekends. And professionally, I can't recommend any teenagers do so on a school night.
Still, finding out a 15-year-old started reading my story and couldn't put it down until six in the morning (during Thanksgiving break, boss!) kind of made my day.
Another one on the self-affirmation list: Having teenagers finish reading it and immediately ask, "Where's the next one?"
That's when I think to myself, "It worked."
My favorite? Knowing I'm contributing to the sleep-deprivation of minors.
You know that feeling--when you start reading a book and before you know it, it's three in the morning ... then four ... then the sun's coming up.
Well, with a day job and grown-up responsibilities, I can't indulge in that very often anymore. Maybe on weekends. And professionally, I can't recommend any teenagers do so on a school night.
Still, finding out a 15-year-old started reading my story and couldn't put it down until six in the morning (during Thanksgiving break, boss!) kind of made my day.
Another one on the self-affirmation list: Having teenagers finish reading it and immediately ask, "Where's the next one?"
That's when I think to myself, "It worked."
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Two Sides to Motivation
No, this is not a post on how to get yourself to meet your NaNoWriMo word count goals. This isn't about "get your cursor moving" motivation at all.
This is about motivation within the story--motivating the characters as well as the plot. First, a little background on what prompted this post.
I was reading (and generally enjoying) a pair of books from a particular series. The first red flag came when a side character was killed and I felt nothing. Maybe it happened too fast, maybe it was a failure to develop an emotional connection earlier ... or maybe it was because it "just kinda happened." Moving on, the MC executed an impressive string of "just doing things" for no clear reason other than to conveniently get herself in trouble. That's when I really started thinking about it and the failings of motivation.
Anyone who's tried to write a query letter has probably explored character motivation related to central conflict. What does the MC want and what stands in his/her way? My exploration has taken me from that macro level to the micro level of individual scenes and character actions or decisions. I've concluded that there are two types of motivation. I'm sure someone out there has more technical names for them, but this is how it's worked out in my mind.
Front-End Motivation
This is what triggers a character's actions. Why does she do this? Why does he react that way? It stems from preceding events as well as the character's personality and values. The trick here is to make sure our characters act and react in realistic and consistent ways, keeping them imperfect yet still believably human. If a character's going to make an obviously poor choice, the reader should be able to buy into the reason. Show the doubts or the willful rebellion, whatever it is that drives the decision.
Back-End Motivation
This is why an event/decision/development is worth including in the story. A few random details for flavor are fine, but anything more substantial should have a reason for happening. It may be the resolution of an earlier mini-conflict or the catalyst for something to happen later. In essence, it's what keeps individual scenes connected.
Both types are necessary, and different scenes will have a different balance of front- and back-end. I imagine few could be described as 50/50, but 5/95 (or 95/5) should be likewise rare. What happens when the balance is weighted too far to one side--or worse, when one side of the motivation is missing?
Back-End with No Front:
This dilemma inspires the "Well, that's convenient" reaction in readers and seems to be at the root of my instigating experience--the MC who "just does stuff." As authors, we know what we want to happen, so sometimes we force our characters to jump through hoops, just for the sake of making something work in the plot.
Front-End with No Back:
Scenes with this problem may come across as feeling random, tangential, or even indulgent. I suspect it occurs more when a writer is trying to pad the word count, or perhaps when the plot isn't yet fully formed. The characters do things that make sense given their personalities and prior events, but it doesn't really go anywhere. I'd say it's nothing to be too afraid of in a first draft if you're a fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pantser rather than a planner, but definitely something to watch out for in editing.
Neither Front Nor Back:
Sound the alarm and get thee a reality check, pronto! Characters are reacting inconsistently and randomly, and the story is going nowhere. At its most extreme, this isn't a story--it's words spewed onto a page. Might be okay for a free-write to play with dialogue or characterization, but once you're in story mode, these things need to be reined in ... at least to a degree.
So, let your characters be human (even if they aren't human, SF/F writers). People rarely do anything truly random. At the same time, be judicious in choosing which human moments to include in your story, and be mindful of why you've chosen them.
This is about motivation within the story--motivating the characters as well as the plot. First, a little background on what prompted this post.
I was reading (and generally enjoying) a pair of books from a particular series. The first red flag came when a side character was killed and I felt nothing. Maybe it happened too fast, maybe it was a failure to develop an emotional connection earlier ... or maybe it was because it "just kinda happened." Moving on, the MC executed an impressive string of "just doing things" for no clear reason other than to conveniently get herself in trouble. That's when I really started thinking about it and the failings of motivation.
Anyone who's tried to write a query letter has probably explored character motivation related to central conflict. What does the MC want and what stands in his/her way? My exploration has taken me from that macro level to the micro level of individual scenes and character actions or decisions. I've concluded that there are two types of motivation. I'm sure someone out there has more technical names for them, but this is how it's worked out in my mind.
Front-End Motivation
This is what triggers a character's actions. Why does she do this? Why does he react that way? It stems from preceding events as well as the character's personality and values. The trick here is to make sure our characters act and react in realistic and consistent ways, keeping them imperfect yet still believably human. If a character's going to make an obviously poor choice, the reader should be able to buy into the reason. Show the doubts or the willful rebellion, whatever it is that drives the decision.
Back-End Motivation
This is why an event/decision/development is worth including in the story. A few random details for flavor are fine, but anything more substantial should have a reason for happening. It may be the resolution of an earlier mini-conflict or the catalyst for something to happen later. In essence, it's what keeps individual scenes connected.
Both types are necessary, and different scenes will have a different balance of front- and back-end. I imagine few could be described as 50/50, but 5/95 (or 95/5) should be likewise rare. What happens when the balance is weighted too far to one side--or worse, when one side of the motivation is missing?
Back-End with No Front:
This dilemma inspires the "Well, that's convenient" reaction in readers and seems to be at the root of my instigating experience--the MC who "just does stuff." As authors, we know what we want to happen, so sometimes we force our characters to jump through hoops, just for the sake of making something work in the plot.
Front-End with No Back:
Scenes with this problem may come across as feeling random, tangential, or even indulgent. I suspect it occurs more when a writer is trying to pad the word count, or perhaps when the plot isn't yet fully formed. The characters do things that make sense given their personalities and prior events, but it doesn't really go anywhere. I'd say it's nothing to be too afraid of in a first draft if you're a fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pantser rather than a planner, but definitely something to watch out for in editing.
Neither Front Nor Back:
Sound the alarm and get thee a reality check, pronto! Characters are reacting inconsistently and randomly, and the story is going nowhere. At its most extreme, this isn't a story--it's words spewed onto a page. Might be okay for a free-write to play with dialogue or characterization, but once you're in story mode, these things need to be reined in ... at least to a degree.
So, let your characters be human (even if they aren't human, SF/F writers). People rarely do anything truly random. At the same time, be judicious in choosing which human moments to include in your story, and be mindful of why you've chosen them.
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Why Writers Should Be Masochists
Want to be a writer? Prepare for pain. The pain of sleep-deprivation, the pain of rejection, the pain of carpal tunnel syndrome, the pain of a good face-keyboard smack when things just aren't working ... all of this and more is likely in your future.
That's not entirely why I think a touch of masochism is a prerequisite, though. Those things all come with the package, and we have to find ways to deal with them--like power naps and ergonomic office furniture. The masochism comes in with the pain we (should) intentionally seek: the sting of constructive criticism.
Personally, I love getting feedback specifying certain aspects that aren't working for the reader, but that sting still pricks me now and then. Still, I'd rather endure that minor pain than get a inbox-full of, "This is amazing and should be published right now!" While the latter is nice for the ego, it doesn't actually help me improve, and even if I got a publishing contract tomorrow, I would always have room to grow.
A parallel: In my day-job, an administrator observes my class a couple of times a year for evaluation. I've yet to have an administrator with a math teaching background, so the fact I can teach calculus already impresses them. More often than not, the feedback is something like, "You're doing great--keep it up!" Once in a while they remark on a small item they can tell was more because they were in the room than anything else. (My fingerspelling skill takes a nosedive when other adults are in the room ... definitely gotta work on that.)
I know I'm a good math teacher, but I also know I'm not perfect. I can identify certain areas for improvement on my own, but for others, I could really use an outside observer to tell me if something works or not, or if I'm doing things I'm not aware of.
Same thing with writing. If a reader isn't feeling my MC's emotion in a certain scene, I need to know. If a particular section is boring, I need to know. When those are areas I've worked on and think are great, finding out they might not work that well can hurt. The biggest hurt is when someone clearly doesn't understand my intention. Those are the moments I doubt myself, wondering if I have any idea what I'm doing, assuming my own failings led the reader to misconstrue the concept. But I will still seek out those opinions, weigh them against each other and against my own instincts, and try to incorporate what I learn into making my writing better.
Turning it around, then, writers should not be sadists. When we're offering critique, it's important to be honest--as noted above, glossing things over won't help anyone--but not intentionally cruel or derogatory. Telling someone, "This sucks--you're never going to make it," is no more helpful than gushing why-isn't-this-published-yet praise.
Most importantly, we have to make sure we aren't such masochists that we lock ourselves into the editing/revising phase for eternity. At some point, you have to decide that it's good enough to get out there and submit ... and ready yourself for those darts of rejection.
That's not entirely why I think a touch of masochism is a prerequisite, though. Those things all come with the package, and we have to find ways to deal with them--like power naps and ergonomic office furniture. The masochism comes in with the pain we (should) intentionally seek: the sting of constructive criticism.
Personally, I love getting feedback specifying certain aspects that aren't working for the reader, but that sting still pricks me now and then. Still, I'd rather endure that minor pain than get a inbox-full of, "This is amazing and should be published right now!" While the latter is nice for the ego, it doesn't actually help me improve, and even if I got a publishing contract tomorrow, I would always have room to grow.
A parallel: In my day-job, an administrator observes my class a couple of times a year for evaluation. I've yet to have an administrator with a math teaching background, so the fact I can teach calculus already impresses them. More often than not, the feedback is something like, "You're doing great--keep it up!" Once in a while they remark on a small item they can tell was more because they were in the room than anything else. (My fingerspelling skill takes a nosedive when other adults are in the room ... definitely gotta work on that.)
I know I'm a good math teacher, but I also know I'm not perfect. I can identify certain areas for improvement on my own, but for others, I could really use an outside observer to tell me if something works or not, or if I'm doing things I'm not aware of.
Same thing with writing. If a reader isn't feeling my MC's emotion in a certain scene, I need to know. If a particular section is boring, I need to know. When those are areas I've worked on and think are great, finding out they might not work that well can hurt. The biggest hurt is when someone clearly doesn't understand my intention. Those are the moments I doubt myself, wondering if I have any idea what I'm doing, assuming my own failings led the reader to misconstrue the concept. But I will still seek out those opinions, weigh them against each other and against my own instincts, and try to incorporate what I learn into making my writing better.
Turning it around, then, writers should not be sadists. When we're offering critique, it's important to be honest--as noted above, glossing things over won't help anyone--but not intentionally cruel or derogatory. Telling someone, "This sucks--you're never going to make it," is no more helpful than gushing why-isn't-this-published-yet praise.
Most importantly, we have to make sure we aren't such masochists that we lock ourselves into the editing/revising phase for eternity. At some point, you have to decide that it's good enough to get out there and submit ... and ready yourself for those darts of rejection.
Saturday, October 16, 2010
Learning from Fiction
There are lots of ways we learn through the written word. Textbooks are the most obvious, though not always very effective in and of themselves. Nonfiction books can be a great way to learn about almost anything you can imagine--cultures, history, technology, or just the lives of interesting people.
We can learn through novels as well. Hard-working authors who do their research can infuse factual tidbits seamlessly into the plot, and we can learn through a character's choices and their evolution through the story.
It recently occurred to me that there's a key difference between the nonfiction and fiction approaches to learning, though. Nonfiction generally sets out to teach--that's the whole point, to be informative. In fiction done right--in my opinion--it's up to the reader to learn, and what they take from the story can vary. The parallels they draw will depend on their own worldview and experiences, and that's what makes it so fun--that feeling of finding your own meaning.
What happens, however, when someone sets out to write a novel with the nonfiction writer's intention of teaching in mind? Does it still work? I'm not sure. I haven't tried it myself. Do you get a "moral of the story" or after-school special feel as a result? If so, that could be a problem. I can't speak for all teenagers, but my students are master cynics. If they sense a story's been contrived to teach them something, brace for imminent eye-rolling.
Does it come down to ensuring Story trumps Message? Is it more a matter of not talking down to your audience? Or are those two related? Something to think about as I dig through the latest YA works to find books to recommend to those charming cynics.
We can learn through novels as well. Hard-working authors who do their research can infuse factual tidbits seamlessly into the plot, and we can learn through a character's choices and their evolution through the story.
It recently occurred to me that there's a key difference between the nonfiction and fiction approaches to learning, though. Nonfiction generally sets out to teach--that's the whole point, to be informative. In fiction done right--in my opinion--it's up to the reader to learn, and what they take from the story can vary. The parallels they draw will depend on their own worldview and experiences, and that's what makes it so fun--that feeling of finding your own meaning.
What happens, however, when someone sets out to write a novel with the nonfiction writer's intention of teaching in mind? Does it still work? I'm not sure. I haven't tried it myself. Do you get a "moral of the story" or after-school special feel as a result? If so, that could be a problem. I can't speak for all teenagers, but my students are master cynics. If they sense a story's been contrived to teach them something, brace for imminent eye-rolling.
Does it come down to ensuring Story trumps Message? Is it more a matter of not talking down to your audience? Or are those two related? Something to think about as I dig through the latest YA works to find books to recommend to those charming cynics.
A Touch of Good News
A few good things that have happened lately:
Otherwise, I'm still in the agent hunt, still working on Book #3, and jotting down some pre-writing notes for a brand-spanking-new idea.
I'm also counting the weeks until Thanksgiving break. For the record, it's at five.
- I made the "Literary Agent Showcase" round on WEbook's PageToFame contest. (See, here's proof!)
- While we're talking about PageToFame, "Assumptions" made it out of the Shorts round. (Still waiting to see what that means.)
- "Significantly Other" was published by Crossed Genres. (Not bad for my first "serious" attempt at at a short story.)
- I survived IEP Intensive. (Not related to writing, other than being the reason I couldn't do much writing for the past month.)
Otherwise, I'm still in the agent hunt, still working on Book #3, and jotting down some pre-writing notes for a brand-spanking-new idea.
I'm also counting the weeks until Thanksgiving break. For the record, it's at five.
Saturday, September 18, 2010
YA Work and the Big Bad
One of the basic elements of storytelling is conflict. Most sources list between four and six main conflict types.
As I look at young adult novels (particularly the sci-fi/fantasy variety I'm so fond of), Man vs. Man is certainly common, as it seems to be across the spectrum of genres. Harry Potter has Voldemort. The Mortal Instruments has Valentine. Twilight has an assortment of "non-vegetarian" vampires. (What's with everything starting with V?) Even The Hunger Games, which is more Man vs. Society, personifies society as a whole in a single antagonist, President Snow.
- Man vs. Self--the identity crisis
- Man vs. Man--"duke it out" (physically or otherwise)
- Man vs. Society--the rebellion
- Man vs. God/Fate--big-time underdog
- Man vs. Nature--the disaster scenario
- Man vs. Technology--"Good morning, Dave."
As I look at young adult novels (particularly the sci-fi/fantasy variety I'm so fond of), Man vs. Man is certainly common, as it seems to be across the spectrum of genres. Harry Potter has Voldemort. The Mortal Instruments has Valentine. Twilight has an assortment of "non-vegetarian" vampires. (What's with everything starting with V?) Even The Hunger Games, which is more Man vs. Society, personifies society as a whole in a single antagonist, President Snow.
In general, there almost always seems to be a "bad guy." That probably explains some feedback I got recently, suggesting I introduce a more significant antagonist sooner. I'm still pondering it.
Does the YA formula require the presence of a Big Bad? I conceived my story as a combination of Man (or in my case, Girl) vs. Self and vs. Society. There are a couple of antagonists, but their role (in the first book, at least) is secondary to the main character's struggle with herself and the society she doesn't quite fit into. Is this type of struggle enough? I don't know yet.
I like to think that for teens in particular, Character vs. Self is something they can connect with. After all, they're at that stage where we start to decide who we are--what we want to hold onto from our childhoods and how we want to expand into new things.
It seems to work for the teens I've had test-driving the story so far. None of them have complained about the balance of internal and external conflict. Perhaps that's all the answer I need. Or then again, maybe I should be working to incorporate more external factors without losing the internal struggle.
Anyone have some good examples of YA books (particularly sci-fi or fantasy) with conflict that's less about fighting the embodiment of evil? I'm sure I've read some, but I'm drawing blanks. It would be interesting to look at how authors have successfully handled such a thing.
Saturday, September 4, 2010
Playing with Covers: Part Two
Because I don't have enough to do (?), I started playing around with Photoshop on Thursday night. Here's the result:
ETA: Went ahead and made a matching one for Echoes, too.
These just might be my favorites so far. See the previous versions (fronts only) here.
I still haven't decided to self-publish, but it doesn't hurt to be prepared, right?
ETA: Went ahead and made a matching one for Echoes, too.
These just might be my favorites so far. See the previous versions (fronts only) here.
I still haven't decided to self-publish, but it doesn't hurt to be prepared, right?
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