Rick Just's Blog, page 243
February 19, 2013
Everyone Needs an Editor
Everyone needs an editor. This came home to me when I opened the first copy of my first novel, Keeping Private Idaho. Two professors had read and corrected the manuscript. Two editors had done the same. My wife, who is good at copy editing, had also read it. I had read and reread it a dozen times. Yet, there it was. The first line of the book starts with a quote. Somewhere along the line that quotation mark disappeared. The first error in the book was in the first paragraph, the first line, THE FIRST CHARACTER.
I have learned since that it is a rule that everything you print is perfect until you pick up the first copy from the printer or publisher. It does not matter whether it is a brochure, a newsletter or a book, you will find an error in the first minute once it is too late to correct it. Call it Rick’s Rule.
The consequences of my making an error in this blog are small. Thousands will not die if I leave out a word or misplace a comma. I would like perfection, but Rick’s Rule still applies. I write this little book blog a few days in advance. I always read each post several times. Still, when it is time to post something, I give it one more read and often find an error or two.
So, expect some errors in this blog. Expect some errors in the book, regardless of the skills of my editors. Ric’s Rule.
I have learned since that it is a rule that everything you print is perfect until you pick up the first copy from the printer or publisher. It does not matter whether it is a brochure, a newsletter or a book, you will find an error in the first minute once it is too late to correct it. Call it Rick’s Rule.
The consequences of my making an error in this blog are small. Thousands will not die if I leave out a word or misplace a comma. I would like perfection, but Rick’s Rule still applies. I write this little book blog a few days in advance. I always read each post several times. Still, when it is time to post something, I give it one more read and often find an error or two.
So, expect some errors in this blog. Expect some errors in the book, regardless of the skills of my editors. Ric’s Rule.
February 18, 2013
Coming to Her Senses
I recently attended the Learning Lab’s Lunch for Literacy, in Boise, as I have done for about 18 years. I was a board member for three years and have supported the organization ever since.
This year’s speaker was Alyssa Harad, author of Coming to My Senses. She specializes in writing about perfume. The big takeaway for me was that we have so few words to describe what we smell. Try describing that special odor when the thunderstorm has spattered up the dust across a desert of sage and bitterbrush. Just try.
The odors on another world would certainly be different. How do I describe them in human terms, when it is so difficult to describe even familiar smells? My olfactory powers are fairly limited in the first place, as my wife will attest. I practically have to dip my beak in a bottle of perfume to register any sensation from it.
I can evoke the scent of sagebrush by writing the word, if you have smelled it yourself. How will I get you to experience the odor as a ragoar works up a sweat? It is a puzzle that would stump Rubik.
This year’s speaker was Alyssa Harad, author of Coming to My Senses. She specializes in writing about perfume. The big takeaway for me was that we have so few words to describe what we smell. Try describing that special odor when the thunderstorm has spattered up the dust across a desert of sage and bitterbrush. Just try.
The odors on another world would certainly be different. How do I describe them in human terms, when it is so difficult to describe even familiar smells? My olfactory powers are fairly limited in the first place, as my wife will attest. I practically have to dip my beak in a bottle of perfume to register any sensation from it.
I can evoke the scent of sagebrush by writing the word, if you have smelled it yourself. How will I get you to experience the odor as a ragoar works up a sweat? It is a puzzle that would stump Rubik.
February 17, 2013
Let's talk about sex
Everyone who will read this probably has at least a basic understanding of the human reproductive system. Most of us have some level of obsession with it. On this blue marble nature has come up with countless ways for a species to reproduce. Many involve a male and a female. Many do not.
Same thing where anjels live. There is much about an anjel’s anatomy that resembles the anatomy of humans. They nurse young anjels in exactly the same way a woman would nurse a baby. Producing that baby in the first place is quite different.
Some scenes may make you blush, less because of what they are doing than what you think they are doing. You, dear reader, come with your lifetime of sexual luggage that will spring open in just the right places in this book. I will have a little fun with that, but for reasons stated earlier will say no more about it.
I mentioned in my first post that this is an adult book. It is bloody by necessity. It is also sexual by necessity, which is the other reason I would not label this a book for children or young adults. Some younger readers will love it; some mothers will be scandalized. The distinction between human reproduction and the reproduction schema of an alien species will be lost on them. I’m confident of this, because I have some experience with readers who misconstrue my intention. For a good example of that, check the review of Wizard Chase by Melissa Peterson on Amazon. It took me quite some time to figure out what the word was that offended her. We had a little exchange about that. Those pesky words that have multiple meanings sometimes hamper communication.
Same thing where anjels live. There is much about an anjel’s anatomy that resembles the anatomy of humans. They nurse young anjels in exactly the same way a woman would nurse a baby. Producing that baby in the first place is quite different.
Some scenes may make you blush, less because of what they are doing than what you think they are doing. You, dear reader, come with your lifetime of sexual luggage that will spring open in just the right places in this book. I will have a little fun with that, but for reasons stated earlier will say no more about it.
I mentioned in my first post that this is an adult book. It is bloody by necessity. It is also sexual by necessity, which is the other reason I would not label this a book for children or young adults. Some younger readers will love it; some mothers will be scandalized. The distinction between human reproduction and the reproduction schema of an alien species will be lost on them. I’m confident of this, because I have some experience with readers who misconstrue my intention. For a good example of that, check the review of Wizard Chase by Melissa Peterson on Amazon. It took me quite some time to figure out what the word was that offended her. We had a little exchange about that. Those pesky words that have multiple meanings sometimes hamper communication.
February 16, 2013
About My Reader
Tom Trusky was my teacher, mentor and friend. You can read more about his amazing life on Wikipedia and the Facebook page Remember Tom Trusky.
As I mentioned yesterday, Tom taught me much about writing. He taught me the discipline of learning the traditional forms of poetry and why you really should not break the rules until you understand them well.
One thing he hammered home was that you should not share whatever you are working on with anyone before it is finished, or at least in completed draft. Doing so saps your energy. If you tell your story to someone, in a way, there is no longer a reason to write it.
In this book blog I am dancing on the edge of Tom’s rule, while desperately trying not to break it. You will not know the story of Anjels (working title) by reading this blog. You will know about technical decisions I have made and something about the world anjels live in.
Tom was not a fan of science fiction. I only rarely foisted any on him in the eight classes I took from him at Boise State University. Every writer writes for someone, consciously or not. Sadly, he will never read this book. Nevertheless Tom will always be my reader.
As I mentioned yesterday, Tom taught me much about writing. He taught me the discipline of learning the traditional forms of poetry and why you really should not break the rules until you understand them well.
One thing he hammered home was that you should not share whatever you are working on with anyone before it is finished, or at least in completed draft. Doing so saps your energy. If you tell your story to someone, in a way, there is no longer a reason to write it.
In this book blog I am dancing on the edge of Tom’s rule, while desperately trying not to break it. You will not know the story of Anjels (working title) by reading this blog. You will know about technical decisions I have made and something about the world anjels live in.
Tom was not a fan of science fiction. I only rarely foisted any on him in the eight classes I took from him at Boise State University. Every writer writes for someone, consciously or not. Sadly, he will never read this book. Nevertheless Tom will always be my reader.
February 14, 2013
Writing inside the (strange) box
Would someone living on another planet speak English? Of course not. Given enough time (and maybe monkeys and typewriters) I could invent an alien language. Then I could teach it to my readers so that my characters could speak in their ‘native’ language. I think I might lose a reader or two along the way. Instead, my anjels speak English. If the book is translated into French, they will speak French. You could consider the whole thing a translation from anjel, no matter what language of Earth we are using.
Even so, there are elements of language that would jar the reader coming from an anjel. Idioms are banished. For instance, an anjel better not say “she is pulling my leg” unless someone is actually pulling her leg. She would not have the context to understand that phrase means that someone is teasing her with a little lie.
Anjels can use a language of Earth, but they cannot use a reference to Earth. Neither can the narrator. This severely limits the use of metaphor and simile. The planet where anjels live has little that is familiar to us. There are no dogs, ducks or Dodges. There are animals and birds; grass and trees. There are mountains and rivers and canyons.
So what do I call mountains, rivers and canyons? Mountains, rivers and canyons. The wind is the wind and rain is rain. A flying creature might be a bird, but it is certainly not a goose. Anjels have their own names for whatever uniquely inhabits their world. They have their own names for each other, so you will not read about Sue and Becky, rather you will get to know Lasa and Talaka.
Eliminating earthly references and severely limiting metaphor and simile builds a tight little box for a writer to work in. My writing mentor, Tom Trusky, taught me how important it is to do that and how it forces your mind into a creative space. Next time a bit more about Tom and why he might warn me not to blog a book.
Even so, there are elements of language that would jar the reader coming from an anjel. Idioms are banished. For instance, an anjel better not say “she is pulling my leg” unless someone is actually pulling her leg. She would not have the context to understand that phrase means that someone is teasing her with a little lie.
Anjels can use a language of Earth, but they cannot use a reference to Earth. Neither can the narrator. This severely limits the use of metaphor and simile. The planet where anjels live has little that is familiar to us. There are no dogs, ducks or Dodges. There are animals and birds; grass and trees. There are mountains and rivers and canyons.
So what do I call mountains, rivers and canyons? Mountains, rivers and canyons. The wind is the wind and rain is rain. A flying creature might be a bird, but it is certainly not a goose. Anjels have their own names for whatever uniquely inhabits their world. They have their own names for each other, so you will not read about Sue and Becky, rather you will get to know Lasa and Talaka.
Eliminating earthly references and severely limiting metaphor and simile builds a tight little box for a writer to work in. My writing mentor, Tom Trusky, taught me how important it is to do that and how it forces your mind into a creative space. Next time a bit more about Tom and why he might warn me not to blog a book.
February 13, 2013
Give them a hand
Bats do not have hands. This is an important point if you were planning to pass one a pen, I suppose, but most people don’t give it a lot of thought. The wings of anjels are patterned loosely after bat wings, though, so I needed to decide just what capabilities they might have when it comes to picking up a pen or a spear. Bat wings are really hands modified by evolution. Count the bones in a bat’s wings and you can identify its ‘fingers.’ Four of those fingers are elongated and webbed into wings. The thumb still has some use as a stubby little digit.
I wanted my anjels to be capable of grasping, so I gave them two fingers and a thumb. They would still be terrible touch typists, because each digit is crowned by a claw or talon. They can do some things that people do with their hands and fingers. They can touch each other, comb each other’s hair with their fingers and grab hold of a bone.
In the book, I wanted to remind readers that though they are frequently referred to as women, these are not women in the sense that we know them. They have fingers, but their biology dictates that their arms are used most as the leading edge of wings, so they have no real hands.
Anjels do have feet. Flying creatures have little use for Jimmy Choos, so it seemed silly to pattern their feet after a human foot. Here, I chose to pattern the anjel foot after birds of prey. I’m still deciding on whether or not to have three toes in front and one in back (most common in raptors) or two front and two back. I’m leaning toward the latter.
Raptors have hooked beaks, which allow them to tear into prey. Most of our non-verbal communication comes from facial expression, so I gave myself a break and let anjels keep their human faces, relying on their finger talons to fill the job of beaks.
Next time, a little bit about personifying aliens and the use of familiar language.
I wanted my anjels to be capable of grasping, so I gave them two fingers and a thumb. They would still be terrible touch typists, because each digit is crowned by a claw or talon. They can do some things that people do with their hands and fingers. They can touch each other, comb each other’s hair with their fingers and grab hold of a bone.
In the book, I wanted to remind readers that though they are frequently referred to as women, these are not women in the sense that we know them. They have fingers, but their biology dictates that their arms are used most as the leading edge of wings, so they have no real hands.
Anjels do have feet. Flying creatures have little use for Jimmy Choos, so it seemed silly to pattern their feet after a human foot. Here, I chose to pattern the anjel foot after birds of prey. I’m still deciding on whether or not to have three toes in front and one in back (most common in raptors) or two front and two back. I’m leaning toward the latter.
Raptors have hooked beaks, which allow them to tear into prey. Most of our non-verbal communication comes from facial expression, so I gave myself a break and let anjels keep their human faces, relying on their finger talons to fill the job of beaks.
Next time, a little bit about personifying aliens and the use of familiar language.
