C.S. Harris's Blog, page 26

Chilling

When I first started blogging, I was very careful not to post any images that weren't my own photographs. The problem, of course, is that posts are so much more attractive and fun with pictures than without. And, sometimes, a picture really is worth a thousand words. As time passed, I noticed that other bloggers were simply using images floating around the Internet, so I finally decided I was being overly cautious and began doing the same. If I used an image from an identified photographer, I was careful to give credit where credit was due, and if it was a photographer with a blog, I'd also provide a link. I reasoned I was providing them with free advertising and directing traffic their way; a win/win situation for all concerned, right? Who would complain?

Well, this morning, a friend sent me a link that chilled me to the bone (not an easy feat in New Orleans in July). Roni Loren is just another random, struggling author with a blog, A few months ago, Roni snagged a photo from Google images and used it to illustrate a blog post. A few weeks later she received a cease and desist notice from the photographer. She immediately took down the photo and apologized, but that wasn't enough for the photographer involved. He sued her. She had to get a lawyer, and the entire incident ended up costing her a small fortune. You can read about it here on her blog.

As a result, I've spent the last four hours going through old blog posts and taking down photos. Some posts are so gutted that they no longer make sense--such as, for instance, the posts I did showing the images that inspired a book cover. I will need to go back later and make certain I caught everything, but at the moment I'm too bleary eyed and, frankly, cranky. In some instances I probably deleted my own pictures, but I simply don't have time to check and make certain.

So, in the future I won't be using as many images, which will take some of the fun out of blogging. As a writer, I'm very sensitive to copyright; I would never dream of using an image in something like a book video or a website design, for instance, without securing copyright and paying for it. (The images you see in the header above were all purchased for my website). One might think that use of images in blogging is different, but it isn't. It doesn't. It doesn't make any difference if you're not using the image to make money, or if you found it in some Creative Commons but the person who put it there didn't actually have the right to do so. You can still get sued.

When I first put this post up, I included some rather salty opinions, but on second thought I've deleted them. Suffice it to say that in a sense, I fall on both sides of this argument as I've posted lots of my own photographs, of Louisiana, of Mardi Gras, of Idaho, of wherever. If anyone uses them, it would be nice if they linked back to my blog. But if they don't, no biggy. You see, I feel like when I put them out there on the Internet, I gave up control over them. If I didn't want them copied, I could have put a watermark on them, or simply not posted them. But what I think, and what the law thinks, are two very different issues.

Alienation and Redemption

How bad does bad have to be before a character is simply beyond redemption?

I recently read a novel by one of my favorite authors that severely disappointed me. The prose was as insightful and beautiful as ever, the descriptions as poetic. So what was the problem? In the beginning, our author introduces a seriously nasty character, the kind we normally expect to see suffer his just deserts by the end of the book. Only, in this case, he doesn't. For reasons I will never understand, our author decides to take this truly despicable human being and "rehabilitate" him. At the end of the book, this disgusting piece of humanity does a noble deed and goes off to open a cafe in the Cascades with his newly acquired girl.

When the redemption of a fictional character works, it can be truly uplifting. But in my opinion, some deeds are simply unforgivable and the characters who commit them are beyond redemption. So just how nasty was this character? We're talking about a sadistic prison guard, an Abu Ghraib torturer, who inflicts a brutal, humiliating rape on a nice boy unfortunate enough to fall under his power. Sorry, but that I can't forgive.

What else can't I forgive? Ironically, I stumbled upon another example just last night while reading The Hunger Games. On page one, Katniss tells us she would have drowned a kitten if her little sister hadn't stopped her. There went my sympathy for this very popular character, and my sense of alienation has so far persisted through the first half of the book. I am continuing to read because I'm interested to see how the author develops this extraordinarily successful story, but I frankly couldn't care less if Katniss were to get killed in the next chapter. The author alienated me from her main character at first meeting. I don't care how hard their lives; real heroes do not kill kittens.


Actually, Katniss alienated me for another reason; she hates her mother and holds a really vicious grudge against her. That reduces her in my estimation. Compare Katniss to the protagonist of Winter's Bone, Ree. Ree also has a mother who emotionally buckles beneath adversity, forcing Ree to undertake the care of both her younger siblings and her mother. Only, unlike Katniss, Ree loves her mother anyway and is touchingly gentle with her. Ree is a heroic figure, whereas in comparison, Katniss comes off as unsympathetic and judgmental. Yes, she loves her little sister and makes a truly noble sacrifice for her. But somehow that doesn't redeem her in my eyes. As the mother of two daughters, I'm simply too alienated by Katniss's attitude toward her mother. Perhaps by the end of the book she will come to the conclusion she really does still love her mother. But it will be too late for me; I've disliked her for too long.

So, it seems that as far as I'm concerned, there are at least three unforgivable sins (I've no doubt there are more): drowning kittens, sodomizing boys, and hating your mother for her weaknesses. What about you? What are your unforgivable sins? Have you found characters whose redemption you simply can't accept?

To Gladden the Heart

One of the things I love about flashmobs is the slowly dawning joy you see in the faces of the people watching as they realize what they are witnessing. Here is Beethoven's Syphony No. 9, presented in the Catalonian city of Sabadell by Banco Sabadell. Participants include the Valles Symphony Orchestra and the choirs of Lieder, the Friends of the Opera, and the Choral Belles Arts.



There is something so uplifting and infectious about this kind of pleasure.


It's the sort of thing that makes you feel good about the human race. If only we could have more of it in our world.

Why I Love YouTube

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I was getting ready to write a scene the other day that involves the bad guys blowing up a building with gunpowder. And it occurred to me that I didn't have a clue what that would look like. So I Googled "gunpowder explosion" and found this really neat YouTube video that is one of an eight-part British television program called "The Gunpowder Plot--Exploding the Legend" in which they actually recreate the explosion planned by the famous would-be Gunpowder Plot assassins.



They go into all sorts of wonderful detail about early gunpowder and of course the dynamics of such explosions. And then we get to actually see the an explosion taking place, right before our eyes. A writer couldn't ask for anything more!

Huck, Revisited

One of my favorite books growing up was The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. My older sister checked it out of the library and first read it to me when I was seven, but I enjoyed the experience so much that I immediately sat down and reread it myself. Then our new lab puppy gnawed one end of the cover, so we had to buy the book from the library and it became ours. At the time it seemed a calamity (money was tight in those days, as my dad was in grad school) but it was really a gift. And since it’s one of the old 1930’s copies with the Norman Rockwell illustrations, I’m still glad to have it, chewed back cover and all.

I don’t remember how many times I read Huck Finn during my growing years, although I’ve no doubt the story had an enormous influence on me in ways I probably still don’t understand. But it had been a long time since I floated down the Mississippi with Huck and Jim, and so this past weekend I downloaded the book to my iPad and revisited my childhood.

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What did I discover? That the book is even funnier than I remembered—or perhaps it’s simply funnier than I completely appreciated as a child. I was surprised by how clearly I recalled some segments, while others I remembered hardly at all. And as an author, I am in awe of Twain’s imagination and the way in which he wove together theme and character development and moral questioning.

I was also interested to discover that controversy has surrounded the book from the beginning; it provoked outrage back in 1884, when it was first published. Because it’s one of the first books written in the vernacular, critics called it rude and crude and morally objectionable. It was banned from libraries. Fast forward to our own era, and once again, Huck Finn frequently finds itself the focus of a storm of controversy, largely because the “n” word peppers the entire book and the character Jim is denigrated as stereotypical. Legions of earnest parents, educators, and moralists insist that children should not be allowed to read it. A new edition actually substituted “slave” for every “n” word in the book (even when referring to free men). At one point, CBS filmed it for television and left out Jim entirely!

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Ironic, given that Huck Finn was written as a biting satire on racism and the moral hypocrisy that allowed it to flourish. The book is populated with a legion of nasty or foolish white people, from Huck’s “pap” and the “duke” and “king,” to the silly sisters who hand over their fortune to charlatans and multiple vicious mobs. Even Tom Sawyer is far from admirable; he cruelly (and dangerously) withholds the truth about Jim simply so he can have a grand “adventure”. The only really admirable adult in the entire book is Jim. Jim is brave, loyal, honest, trustworthy, and a good, loving father (in deliberate juxtaposition to Huck’s “pap”). Yes, he is superstitious, but so were most uneducated people in those days (see The Adventures of Tom Sawyer), and as the book progresses, his wisdom becomes more and more apparent to both Huck and the reader. I understand African-American frustration at being so often relegated to the role of wise mentor. But this is not a book about a black man aggressively fighting his way to freedom; it’s about a boy learning valuable lessons about human nature, racism, and hypocrisy as he grows to manhood. How is it a bad thing that his teacher is a black man?

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As for the “n” word, how does an author write a book set in an era when the word was used by most of the population, and not use it? I can understand its offensiveness to people today; but does that mean that historical novelists must write anachronistic dialogue? Isn’t that rewriting history for the worst possible reasons? Why pretend that something offensive did not happen? Should we portray racist bigots as less offensive than they really were, simply to avoid using an historically accurate but vile word? How is it a good idea to throw away what could be learned by a thoughtful, sensitive, honest exploration of those times?

Your thoughts?

On Larrikins and Wowsers

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I was writing along on Sebastian Number Nine the other day and just stopped myself from using the word “larrikin.” I vaguely remembered that it only dates back to the late 19th century, and when I looked it up, I saw that not only was I right, but that it is an Australian term—one of the many that crept into my vocabulary without my noticing during the twelve years I lived there. I asked Steve if Americans use it, and he said, “No.” Which struck me as a real shame, because it’s a great word.

So what is a larrikin? He’s basically your quintessential young Aussie male: wild at heart and frequently rather unruly, he laughs often, lives life to the fullest, and couldn’t care less about rules, authority figures, or what other people think. Probably the best known larrikin, at least to American audiences, is Crocodile Dundee, although Flurry Knox is an even better example, if you’ve ever read the Irish RM books (yes, I know he’s Irish, but he’s one of the greatest larrikins ever created).

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The larrikin’s opposite is the wowser. Our friends at Wikipedia describe wowsers as those whose exaggerated sense of morality drives them to believe they have a God-given mission to deprive others of their sinful pleasures, which pretty much nails it. Think Carrie Nation, or that guy (who shall remain nameless) who recently got up on American television and said that sex should only be for purposes of procreation and anything else is a sin. He’s a card-carrying wowser.



Larrikin and wowser: two words that fill a definite niche.

Progress Report

Yes, I'm still alive. Just about the time I thought I was well enough to start blogging again, I had a serious set back. But, hopefully, this is it. I'm getting really, really tired of doctors.

As for what's been going on (other than a rather tiresome struggle to stay alive), I have managed for the most part to keep chugging away at book number nine in the Sebastian series. In fact, thanks to so many days of enforced rest, I'm actually ahead of where I'd hoped to be at this point. I suppose it's one of the advantages of being in the habit of writing by hand on legal pads.

We also have a pretty amazing new cover for What Darkness Brings, although thanks to the peculiarities of the publishing industry and a bunch of legalities, I can't show it to you yet. But I can give you a hint: Picture a medieval tower, some spooky bare tree limbs, and Sebastian looking up. It's quite a departure from the previous covers, and I'm anxious to hear what you think.

While I was down and almost out, Blogger fiddled with all their settings, with the result that I'm not sure what this is going to look like when I hit "Publish." So if it looks weird, you'll know why!

The photo was taken by my daughter, Danielle, with the new Canon Rebel we gave her for her birthday this week.

Still Alive--and Some Good News

Sorry for the long absence. Without going into too much detail, I had a nasty reaction to some prescription meds. The past month is a bit of a blur, but I'm starting to feel better and hopefully will be back up to steam soon.

Now for the good news: I've accepted a new contract for two more Sebastian St. Cyr books, Numbers 9 and 10 in the series. They actually wanted the next book in nine months, but since I was trying not to die at the time, I had to say "No, better give me 10 or 11 months, just to be safe."

(The photo of the cat sleeping in the window of a French Quarter art gallery comes from when I was walking around during a break in the Tennessee Williams Literary Festival last month.)

A Huge SORRY to My Readers in Houston

I have had to cancel my planned booksigning at Murder by the Book in Houston this Saturday. I can't tell you how sorry I am; I was really, really looking forward to it. MBTB always has a wonderful crowd of readers and I've so enjoyed my last two trips there. But I finally admitted to myself that I am simply too ill to make the flight there and back.

If they're willing to give it another try, I would love to come next year for the release of What Darkness Brings. Hopefully I'll be better by then!

My sincerest apologies to all who were planning to attend.