Gillian Polack's Blog, page 217
December 18, 2011
Why I love this doctorate #34587
Today is all about balancing narrative. Some types of novels require madly long conversation, full of details that bring the characters to life. Some require less long conversation, with the focus on plot advancement. Some require almost no conversation at all. My task of the moment is to play with conversation in narrative and to learn the difference.
Is an aspect of a character really so important that the pace has to change, or should that aspect be reduced to a few pat words, or can it fade entirely? How does dialogue affect the rhythm of the novel and how does the rhythm of the dialogue affect how we read the novel?
This morning I'm learning through playing with one style of narrative. This one is dialogue rich and not very rapid (like Life through Cellophane) and I'm noticing distinct changes in tension by focussing the dialogue a tiny bit more precisely, in key paces.
This afternoon I start doing the same thing with my time travel novel.
Is an aspect of a character really so important that the pace has to change, or should that aspect be reduced to a few pat words, or can it fade entirely? How does dialogue affect the rhythm of the novel and how does the rhythm of the dialogue affect how we read the novel?
This morning I'm learning through playing with one style of narrative. This one is dialogue rich and not very rapid (like Life through Cellophane) and I'm noticing distinct changes in tension by focussing the dialogue a tiny bit more precisely, in key paces.
This afternoon I start doing the same thing with my time travel novel.
Matt Forbeck - Carpathia (Angry Robot)
I was finding it hard to focus (literally, my eyes were attempting to disown me) because of Incoming Weather and other Minor Issues. I realised that I could blow up the text of e-review books to an abnormal size. So here I have, for your Sunday afternoon/evening delectation, Matt Forbeck's Incoming Novel, Carpathia.
It starts, as so many narratives do, on board the Titanic, just when the iceberg hits. The focus, however, is not the tragedy of the Titanic, for the Carpathia (the ship that famously saved the few surviving passengers*) has strange cargo and some passengers are not what they seem…
On board the Titanic is a love triangle and on board the Carpathia is an interesting situation just about to go bad. When one meets the other, once the ship is sunk, that's when things get darkly peculiar (or peculiarly dark).
Most novels about the Titanic have a certain writing style and atmosphere. This lacks it. The language isn't plain and unadorned, but it's not quite the best language for the story. An early description of a character is "Tall, blond, and broad of shoulders and chin" or, later, when a dress fitted like a tailored glove (and I started imagining an alien body, with tendrils) - it felt a bit like entering a pulp novel, with the adjectives toned down. As the novel progresses, thankfully, the descriptions tend to be tighter.
Like the pulp novels, a sense of believability is occasionally lacking. I can't explain the particular episode that made me feel this most strongly, because it gives away a rather important plot point - all I can say is a very high level of suspension of disbelief is needed from time to time in order to enjoy this book.
Having said that (evil criticism out of the way) Forbeck's capacity to build tension is wonderful. Where most writers would add one, two or even three lines of worry, he adds a fourth and a fifth and they're all well-founded and reasoned out. We know that things are going to go wrong (the Titanic, after all, did sink) but in Carpathia it goes wrong in all kinds of new ways. In a typically Forbeckian fashion, characters are not wasted and the story is fast and evil right until the end.
It's a tribute to Stoker, and a good one.
*If you do some googling about this, you may, as I did, discover an ad for plumbing.
It starts, as so many narratives do, on board the Titanic, just when the iceberg hits. The focus, however, is not the tragedy of the Titanic, for the Carpathia (the ship that famously saved the few surviving passengers*) has strange cargo and some passengers are not what they seem…
On board the Titanic is a love triangle and on board the Carpathia is an interesting situation just about to go bad. When one meets the other, once the ship is sunk, that's when things get darkly peculiar (or peculiarly dark).
Most novels about the Titanic have a certain writing style and atmosphere. This lacks it. The language isn't plain and unadorned, but it's not quite the best language for the story. An early description of a character is "Tall, blond, and broad of shoulders and chin" or, later, when a dress fitted like a tailored glove (and I started imagining an alien body, with tendrils) - it felt a bit like entering a pulp novel, with the adjectives toned down. As the novel progresses, thankfully, the descriptions tend to be tighter.
Like the pulp novels, a sense of believability is occasionally lacking. I can't explain the particular episode that made me feel this most strongly, because it gives away a rather important plot point - all I can say is a very high level of suspension of disbelief is needed from time to time in order to enjoy this book.
Having said that (evil criticism out of the way) Forbeck's capacity to build tension is wonderful. Where most writers would add one, two or even three lines of worry, he adds a fourth and a fifth and they're all well-founded and reasoned out. We know that things are going to go wrong (the Titanic, after all, did sink) but in Carpathia it goes wrong in all kinds of new ways. In a typically Forbeckian fashion, characters are not wasted and the story is fast and evil right until the end.
It's a tribute to Stoker, and a good one.
*If you do some googling about this, you may, as I did, discover an ad for plumbing.
December 17, 2011
gillpolack @ 2011-12-18T09:55:00
I'm being wildly intelligent today. Being wildly intelligent means reading my supervisor's notes on my novel and devising solutions where solutions need devising. It means making little cheese pastries with filo, half-baking them and then freezing them for when needs must. It means putting rubbish out and washing dishes.
All the houseworkish activities are linked to the novel. It's time for some thinking. And, I admit, it would be rather nice if my place were less a pigsty by the time a friend drops round this afternoon.
All the houseworkish activities are linked to the novel. It's time for some thinking. And, I admit, it would be rather nice if my place were less a pigsty by the time a friend drops round this afternoon.
gillpolack @ 2011-12-17T11:12:00
I need a t-shirt today that says "Say 'No' to asthma attacks." Last night was quite bad. Today is quite careful. It's the direct consequence of basic housework. I should learn never to do basic housework...
And now I return to my normal programming. I have just under two hours and lots of work that must be done. Also, hot tea that must be drunk*, for the breathing thing is a bit addictive and I feel bereft when it stops.
Also, I have PMT. The two things are linked this time, asthma and PMT. What this means is that I have a raging temper and no breath to express it with. I find this amusing. Obviously I am easily amused.
I shall take three minutes before I work and amuse myself some more. I have bubbles that must be blown. Blowing bubbles will increase my lung capacity. Also my temper. Almost as good as chocolate, really.
*For those who want to give other suggestions, please note that I've already taken a raft of medication and breathed steam and done stretches. Asthma is not new to me. Sequential attacks over a long night are a bit of a nuisance, is all. (Sharyn, at least we know why I was so very exhausted yesterday!)
And now I return to my normal programming. I have just under two hours and lots of work that must be done. Also, hot tea that must be drunk*, for the breathing thing is a bit addictive and I feel bereft when it stops.
Also, I have PMT. The two things are linked this time, asthma and PMT. What this means is that I have a raging temper and no breath to express it with. I find this amusing. Obviously I am easily amused.
I shall take three minutes before I work and amuse myself some more. I have bubbles that must be blown. Blowing bubbles will increase my lung capacity. Also my temper. Almost as good as chocolate, really.
*For those who want to give other suggestions, please note that I've already taken a raft of medication and breathed steam and done stretches. Asthma is not new to me. Sequential attacks over a long night are a bit of a nuisance, is all. (Sharyn, at least we know why I was so very exhausted yesterday!)
December 16, 2011
gillpolack @ 2011-12-16T16:14:00
I have many chocolate coins. It's a symptom of the time of year. So far, I've refrained from eating them. Watch this space...
December 15, 2011
Gifts!!! Demand them now!!
Chanukah is nearly here. Only five days to go.
This year, my local friends get the strange and unassuming and possibly quite evil in their gift packages (but only those I see during the period* and only while those gift packages last* and only if I remember*).
For everyone else there are real presents. It's not going to be first-in-best-dressed this year, either. I'm going to list all the presents here, tonight. Now, in fact (see below).
On my first night of revelry, after the candles are lit, I shall draw names from a series of very sparkly sorting hats. I have three very sparkly sorting hats, one green, one black, and one purple. Anyone who wants one and can personally collect it may have a hat for their very own, but not until after the drawing.
All you have to do is answer this post and tell me what you want. You might just name the items that interest you, a cold and heartless list, but if you can convince me that you really, really want something then we get find out if my very sparkly sorting hats take this kind of thing into account. In other words, I wouldn't mind knowing why you want what you want. It is not crucial**.
You don't have to know me terribly well to want a gift. If you don't know me in any way, shape or form, however, I suggest you introduce yourself because I may be emailing or posting something to you and this would be quite wrong if we didn't know each other at all.
Present #1 (several of them!): small postcards with a latke recipe on them. Not the same latke recipe as on Sophie Masson's blog. I don't use any of these recipes when I actually cook - I just grab the ingredients and go for it. I should possibly not have admitted this... Handwritten message optional.
Present #2 (several of them!): large postcards with a recipe from the Conflux cookbook. Friends in the UK might already have this. Handwritten message optional.
Present #3: A copy of George Gissing's New Grub Street***.
Present #4: A copy of Sartor Resartus (Carlyle) that is old, battered and very undated***.
Present #5: My special retelling of the Chanukah story, on this very blog (I did it one year and will only tell it again - even if I update it and add more and worse jokes - if someone really wants it).
Present #6 (several of these!): A near-random short story in your email. By near-random I mean something of mine that has been respectably published but is not readily available anymore.
Present #7 (one copy only): "Once and Future: Medieval and Modern Arthurian Literature" - the Arthurian Association of Australia's first volume of occasional papers, edited by me, now very scarce (but Felicity Pulman found some in hiding and gave me three, so I offer one as a present and the rest are mine, all mine).
Present #8 (the big one - how many copies are to be decided): pdfs of Life through Cellophane, for your summer/winter/interseasonal reading. This present was brought to you by Eneit Press, who kindly agreed to let me use the review pdf.
Eight presents. Enough for everyone (I hope).
You can put yourself down for as many presents as you want. I'll make up my mind as to how many you get and what you get with the help of my very sparkly sorting hats (obviously to be worn by very sparkly vampires) on the first night of Chanukah. If anyone wants to turn up and make a ceremony of it, food and dredels and choc coins and candles can be arranged. If no-one turns up, then I get all the choc coins, but you still get your gifts.
Gifts open to anyone living anywhere Australia Post delivers (whether or not I've given you presents recently or you plan to receive presents from me in the near future), but my sorting hats tend to show a bias towards Australian addresses for heavy items and non-Australian addresses for items that can be delivered electronically. It's just a bias, though - if only one person wants a book, then that person gets it, even if they live in Iceland (though what anyone in Iceland would want with Sartor Resartus...)
And that's it for my Chanukah presents. If you want any, you might want to reply to this post. Don't email - just reply here. You have until first candle, first night, Australian Eastern Summer Time****.
*I'm enjoying seeing how many caveats I can fit into a single paragraph.
**Except to the very sparkly sorting hats, who thrive on enthusiasm and love.
***My work experience students discovered these duplicates in my library. I'm palming off my excess second-hand books onto innocent members of the public. I rather suspect it's not me doing this at all, but the Evil Gillian.
****This is mainly to confuse any friends who don't know what Chanukah is or when it starts. Since I'm ending the year in a grand state of confusion, I thought I could share this state. Speaking of which*****
*****The system of footnoting was quite intentional.
This year, my local friends get the strange and unassuming and possibly quite evil in their gift packages (but only those I see during the period* and only while those gift packages last* and only if I remember*).
For everyone else there are real presents. It's not going to be first-in-best-dressed this year, either. I'm going to list all the presents here, tonight. Now, in fact (see below).
On my first night of revelry, after the candles are lit, I shall draw names from a series of very sparkly sorting hats. I have three very sparkly sorting hats, one green, one black, and one purple. Anyone who wants one and can personally collect it may have a hat for their very own, but not until after the drawing.
All you have to do is answer this post and tell me what you want. You might just name the items that interest you, a cold and heartless list, but if you can convince me that you really, really want something then we get find out if my very sparkly sorting hats take this kind of thing into account. In other words, I wouldn't mind knowing why you want what you want. It is not crucial**.
You don't have to know me terribly well to want a gift. If you don't know me in any way, shape or form, however, I suggest you introduce yourself because I may be emailing or posting something to you and this would be quite wrong if we didn't know each other at all.
Present #1 (several of them!): small postcards with a latke recipe on them. Not the same latke recipe as on Sophie Masson's blog. I don't use any of these recipes when I actually cook - I just grab the ingredients and go for it. I should possibly not have admitted this... Handwritten message optional.
Present #2 (several of them!): large postcards with a recipe from the Conflux cookbook. Friends in the UK might already have this. Handwritten message optional.
Present #3: A copy of George Gissing's New Grub Street***.
Present #4: A copy of Sartor Resartus (Carlyle) that is old, battered and very undated***.
Present #5: My special retelling of the Chanukah story, on this very blog (I did it one year and will only tell it again - even if I update it and add more and worse jokes - if someone really wants it).
Present #6 (several of these!): A near-random short story in your email. By near-random I mean something of mine that has been respectably published but is not readily available anymore.
Present #7 (one copy only): "Once and Future: Medieval and Modern Arthurian Literature" - the Arthurian Association of Australia's first volume of occasional papers, edited by me, now very scarce (but Felicity Pulman found some in hiding and gave me three, so I offer one as a present and the rest are mine, all mine).
Present #8 (the big one - how many copies are to be decided): pdfs of Life through Cellophane, for your summer/winter/interseasonal reading. This present was brought to you by Eneit Press, who kindly agreed to let me use the review pdf.
Eight presents. Enough for everyone (I hope).
You can put yourself down for as many presents as you want. I'll make up my mind as to how many you get and what you get with the help of my very sparkly sorting hats (obviously to be worn by very sparkly vampires) on the first night of Chanukah. If anyone wants to turn up and make a ceremony of it, food and dredels and choc coins and candles can be arranged. If no-one turns up, then I get all the choc coins, but you still get your gifts.
Gifts open to anyone living anywhere Australia Post delivers (whether or not I've given you presents recently or you plan to receive presents from me in the near future), but my sorting hats tend to show a bias towards Australian addresses for heavy items and non-Australian addresses for items that can be delivered electronically. It's just a bias, though - if only one person wants a book, then that person gets it, even if they live in Iceland (though what anyone in Iceland would want with Sartor Resartus...)
And that's it for my Chanukah presents. If you want any, you might want to reply to this post. Don't email - just reply here. You have until first candle, first night, Australian Eastern Summer Time****.
*I'm enjoying seeing how many caveats I can fit into a single paragraph.
**Except to the very sparkly sorting hats, who thrive on enthusiasm and love.
***My work experience students discovered these duplicates in my library. I'm palming off my excess second-hand books onto innocent members of the public. I rather suspect it's not me doing this at all, but the Evil Gillian.
****This is mainly to confuse any friends who don't know what Chanukah is or when it starts. Since I'm ending the year in a grand state of confusion, I thought I could share this state. Speaking of which*****
*****The system of footnoting was quite intentional.
December 14, 2011
gillpolack @ 2011-12-14T15:46:00
Today I'm blessed with an exceptionally fantabulous headache. I had a fine last-class-of-year notwithstanding (and also notwithstanding the fact that the students decided to postpone the parlour games until we'd done some work) and have done a grocery shop to get me through for a week and a bit. If only I could work out the cause of this headache, I would knock it on the head at once, for I have a party to go to tonight. Most years I miss out most parties, but tonight I'm on cheering duty: one of Kaaron Warren's books has been shortlisted for an award. My exceptionally fantabulous headache is going to be ignored in an exceptionally fantabulous way. Possibly with the help of medication.
December 13, 2011
gillpolack @ 2011-12-13T18:36:00
My computer smells of spiced tea. This would be because it's the time of the month when my co-ordination fails and this month it failed to maintain a huge mug of tea until it reached its destination. Mostly I just break dishes. Sometimes I break dishes when they're three feet away from me. It's one way of reducing frustrating things such as dust, possessions, and calm.
Time to make myself some more tea.
Time to make myself some more tea.
gillpolack @ 2011-12-13T17:27:00
Sophie Masson (who I became friends with through matters Arthurian - of which more next week) is featuring food on her blog. Today's foodie writer is me, with latkes: http://alamodefrangourou.blogspot.com/2011/12/writers-and-editors-on-food-7-gillian.html
December 12, 2011
gillpolack @ 2011-12-12T12:24:00
My new BiblioBuffet article is up, for those who need lunchtime reading: http://www.bibliobuffet.com/bookish-dreaming/1650-how-we-understand-the-past-from-three-directions-121111
