C.S. Marks's Blog, page 3

Interview With Fullerton College Radio

Below is an interview C.S. Marks on Fullerton College Radio. I hope you enjoy it!

Interview With C.S. Marks

“I Share My Life”

Reflections on Teaching and Learning:

I often find myself in the enviable position of teaching Equine Science to people who don’t like science. I used to do the same thing in Biology–I asked for non-majors. Yes, I know, that’s not typical. Most professors dislike teaching students who are there because they have to be. In fact, they love to hand off their sections of non-majors to people like me. As a teacher, one who has been called to the profession, I thrive on turning the tide of indifference, and I love a challenge. Sure, I have to work harder, but the reward is great.

Picture a room full of early twenty-somethings–some football players, some dance majors, some creative writing majors–and all you hear is Yosemite Sam’s voice (OOOoooooooo, ah HATES Science!).

I face the potentially hostile mob with confidence. They only think they hate science. They are going to love science! I rub my hands together. If I had a mustache, I’d twirl it. I have you now, my pretties.

What is the source of this confidence? It’s my job to convey information, even if these students aren’t receptive to that. Well, I have a secret weapon. As with nearly all students, they love a good story, and I tell good stories.

Stories have been used by teachers since ancient times. Fables, parables–many forms of literature–are among the most effective ways of capturing the attention of a group of listeners and driving home a point. Stories don’t just teach, they inspire. They bring many emotions into play. We might forget the marathon note-taking sessions filled with long streams of facts and minutiae, but we probably won’t forget the real-life story in which the information is illustrated and applied. Stories break up the tedium of a long lecture. They allow the students to relax, listen, and learn.

When I was teaching Biology, I regaled my science-hating non-majors with stories like “The time I got chased by a bison,” or “The time the graduate students brought back a deer skull to the lab and a million flies hatched out of it over the weekend,” or “The time I found the silver-haired bat at the base of the science building and kept him alive in a little box in my fridge all winter.” When things get dull, I can liven them up with tales of the Vampire Catfish, or the dreaded Guinea Worm, or the best way to deal with a Grizzly Bear attack as opposed to a Black Bear attack (it’s really important to know the difference). It’s the cure for the dreaded “infodump,” because it brings the facts to life.

This is particularly important when teaching non-science majors, as they will look for any excuse to let their attention wander. No one’s attention wanders during the discussion of the dreaded Guinea Worm, which then leads deftly into an examination of the evolutionary impact of parasitism. I never underestimate the value of entertainment in learning–the more gruesome, the better.

Stories, especially true-life ones, provide the context for the facts and minutiae. Science courses are usually presented in a lecture format due to the very high level of content and the need for memorization of that content, but that content is much less meaningful without context. A student might have an excellent memory, but what good is the ability to recall information without the ability to apply and interpret that information? The student with full recall may ace the exam, but the one who understands the context will perform far better in the long run. Putting the information in context enhances critical thinking and problem solving, and it helps the students in acquiring a personal/professional philosophy. It’s the context that brings ethics into the mix.Think about the parables again.

 

Now that I am blessed with the opportunity to teach Equine Science, my story-telling has been ramped up by an order of magnitude, because the stories are taken from my own real experiences. I’ve been hip-deep in hippology for more years than my students have been alive; probably more than a few of their mothers have been alive. I’ve lived an interesting life, and I’ve paid attention. I have the knowledge to fully appreciate the context and implications of my experiences, and I can weave that knowledge into tales that illustrate many of the phenomena I’m describing–tales the students won’t soon forget. They don’t just get a story–they feel the emotion behind it. Sometimes I’m outraged, sometimes melancholy or regretful, and sometimes filled with pride or good humor. Some of the tales are rip-snorting adventures, others are tragic, and still others bring a wry smile and a shake of the head. In my opinion, students should laugh out loud at least three times during a fifty-minute lecture, y’know? They learn what I want them to, and might not even realize they’re doing it.

Here’s an example:

“Road founder, or concussive laminitis, is caused by repetitive work at speed on concussive surfaces. It results in severe inflammation of the laminae which may suffer blood deprivation, known as ischemia, and subsequent tissue death. This is likely to result in either rotation or sinking of the bony column. If not properly managed, it can lead to permanent, irreversible damage.”

The students dutifully copy this information in their notebooks. One of them asks how to spell “ischemia.”

Now, let’s look at this another way. I can tell the story of a friend of mine:

“Like me, Phil was an endurance rider, but our philosophies were somewhat different. Phil would ride right over you if you got in front of him. He was one of the most competitive, reckless riders I ever knew, and sometimes it got him in trouble. I recall one incident in which he stampeded up a particularly steep, horrific hill in hock-deep mud (the rest of us had more sense), his horse mired down near the top, went over backwards, and slid down all the way–on top of Phil–but today I have to tell you about the best horse Phil ever had.

Rebel was one of those horses who would give everything–and then a little bit more. He was strong, beautiful, affectionate, and he put up with Phil through thick and thin. Phil adored him, and they were well on their way to placing in the top ten in the Midwest region.

We were doing a piddly little twenty-five mile ride in Illinois; it wouldn’t even count toward mileage awards. Phil had set the course record in a mad dash the year before, and he wanted to break it. The trail was hard-packed clay and limestone, as it was a drought year, but Phil didn’t take this into account. He went off like the mad bat he was, pushing Rebel to his limit and beyond in an effort to break his own record. Rebel began to pull up after about ten miles. He tried to tell Phil he was hurting, but Phil didn’t hear. Rebel toughed it out through the whole course, but didn’t even finish in the top ten (though he still finished ahead of me). He did not pass the final vet check–his heart rate was uncomfortably high.”

I look at my students–I see the expressions on their faces. They know the implications of a high standing heart rate, because I have taught them. Now I’m certain they’ve learned it, because their faces tell me. This story will not end well, and they have foreseen the outcome already. I will now finish the story and confirm that their prediction is correct.

“An hour later, Rebel’s heart rate was still high. Phil thought it was “the heat.” It wasn’t. Rebel was in pain–a lot of pain. He went down shortly after, his feet on fire. He had torn the laminae so badly that he would never recover. It was one of the worst cases of road founder I’d ever seen.

Rebel did not survive the experience. Phil managed to get him back on his feet and into the trailer (I still shudder to think of the agony he was in on the long, long ride to the vet clinic), but there was nothing anyone could do. Rebel was humanely destroyed, and so was Phil. At last he realized the folly of recklessness–of putting winning before welfare. He never rode again. For the rest of his life, whenever anyone brought up Rebel, I saw the haunted look on Phil’s face. If I ever need a reminder to put the welfare of my horse before the outcome of the competition, the guilt and pain in his eyes is all I need recall.”

By this time, the students are solemn. They knew this end was coming, but it’s hard for them to hear. In their faces I see grief, empathy, disgust, and resolve. I’ll never let that happen. I will listen to my horse and pay attention to the signs of discomfort and distress. I will not be like Phil.

This is a goal I cannot achieve by merely relating information–information that anyone can find in a book or on a website. This level of learning comes though sharing experiences. It’s the depth of those experiences that makes me the teacher I am–experiences that have taken a lifetime to accumulate. I don’t just share knowledge, I share my life.

We often go to great lengths to update and remain current with the information in our field of study–as we must. We keep developing as scholars so that our students can benefit from our efforts and receive quality instruction. Our knowledge base is essential–it’s the platform that supports our teaching. But it’s our life experiences that set us apart–they bring the lesson home.

This is, in my opinion, the last great argument for face-to-face classroom teaching. The computer screen has far more difficulty relating personal experience, conveying emotional impact, assessing whether the message is “getting through.” In fact, in our present state of technological development, it cannot do any of those things well. While my computer might disagree, arguing that it had a few harrowing personal experiences at the last Book Expo it attended with me, it has never been chased by wild emus, nor has it learned that one should be the first rider past the ostrich farm on the morning of the hundred-mile race. It cannot compete with my fifty years of hard-won equestrian battles.

We don’t just “talk the talk.” In an applied field like Equine Studies, this is what makes us worthy of respect. This is what our students remember. This is what makes us better teachers as we gain experience. I have been privileged, even honored, to have been able to share my life with so many students. If I want to be a better teacher, I must continue to live it…and share it.

Who Doesn’t Enjoy a Great Villain, After All?

A few thoughts on Good Bad Guys:

Not many people know that the Alterra books actually sprang from the desire to develop and explore the villain. Yes…the villain. Gorgon has always been my favorite character to write, and he is also the most difficult. It’s not so hard to put myself in the place of a “good” character. I can usually understand what motivates a protagonist, but it’s a lot bigger stretch to imagine what goes on in the mind of a creature driven by hate, consumed by dark emotions, who derives pleasure from causing suffering to others. Despite what some of my students may tell you, that’s NOT my usual m.o.

I get to know my characters very well in the course of a novel or two, and I want them all to be compelling, but I wanted Gorgon to be outstanding. I wanted my readers to be thinking about him long after they closed the cover on the last book in the trilogy. So, how does one create a particularly effective villain? At the risk of “spoiling” the experience for those who have yet to read Elfhunter, Fire-heart, and Ravenshade, I’ll share a few thoughts on my favorite bad guy.

Everyone here who has had the pleasure of a good read knows the value of a multi-dimensional antagonist. We remember the villains who have delighted us–Richard III, Randall Flagg, Lord Voldemort–and try to discern what it is that makes them memorable. The mindless, evil “Dark Lord” bores me. I want my villains to be complex, I want to understand what drives them, and I want them to be relatable, if not sympathetic. Thoroughly nasty, but with glimmers of humanity.

At first, Gorgon Elfhunter appears to be a mindless monstrosity–we don’t even know what kind of being he is. But as the story progresses, we peel him like an onion. We learn of his origins, and speculate on what drives him to be as he is. We try, at least on some level, to understand him. Once in a while we almost feel empathy–usually right before he does something really nasty and we change our minds. (Jeez! I can’t believe I almost LIKED you for a second!) A good villain should make you mad. Really mad.

The best villains are full of surprises. They’re unpredictable, adding to our suspense as we wonder what they’re up to. And they threaten our favorite heroes/heroines effectively enough that some of us will turn to the last page to find out which side prevails. (I would not suggest doing that unless there’s a dog–I always have to know if the dog makes it.)

A great villain is heartless, but may have a soft spot for something–some Achilles’ heel. If the protagonists are lucky, they’ll figure this out and exploit it. Meanwhile, we readers can keep turning pages hoping the secret will be discovered. (Princess! You need peanut butter! Peanut butter is his Kryptonite! He’ll fold like a cheap suit! Oh, my gosh! Dude! That guy has a soft spot for kittens…and your sister!)

Some of the best and most memorable villains are petty–they don’t threaten world domination, they just torture small animals and helpless children. Stephen King is especially good at those. They’re effective, in my opinion, because we’ve all met at least one heartless, bullying snake-in-the-grass, maybe in fifth grade. They are the ones whose eventual downfall and comeuppance I can’t WAIT to witness. I don’t even care about the heroes any more–I just want to see that slimy b**tard get his!

Gollum is a wonderful villain–he’s SO annoying that I wanted him to vanish in a cloud of sulfurous vapor, never to return. I have often wondered what the inspiration was for that particular character. Brilliant.

In case anyone is wondering what inspired Gorgon, I wanted to explore a character who had been born into a world with very few choices. Utterly rejected, driven by hatred, convinced that love is a weakness, Gorgon has always reminded me of the doomed souls in our own world who believe that the act of killing gives purpose to their lives. I wanted to try to understand such motivations. At times it was difficult. Gorgon is an odd mixture of personalities–at times vulnerable, insecure, and filled with doubt, and at times utterly vicious, inexorable, unstoppable. There is a kind of wistfulness in him at times, countered by a profound stubbornness and an undeniably perverted fascination with pain.

An interesting villain should be pitted against an interesting heroine. Gaelen fills the bill–she’s like Captain Ahab chasing Moby Dick. It’s fun to see how Gorgon’s attitude toward her changes as the story unfolds. The relationship that develops between them may be unholy, but it’s a grand device for revealing their inmost thoughts and emotions–what drives them to be as they are. Both characters evolve as they tumble through the story together–each trying to put an end to the other. Who will prevail? Can either succeed in defeating the other without losing his/her very nature? Will that b**tard ever get his comeuppance?

If you decide to purchase Elfhunter, I hope you’ll stay through the entire trilogy. That’s the only way you’ll know for sure.

A few thoughts on World-building

I write in the world of “what if?” The proper name these days is “speculative fiction,” encompassing fantasy, science fiction, horror, paranormal, and…probably a few others I don’t even know about. It’s a blast, and I love it, but it’s a challenge sometimes.

All fiction requires a certain amount of scene-setting and imagination, but placing the reader in my own version of “what if?” requires actual world-building. I’ve noticed that some authors do this better than others. I used to consider world-building secondary to character development, but I have since learned otherwise. The world is the foundation on which the story rests–it’s the framework through which the characters move and act. You have to have a believable, solid, intriguing stage to set them on.

In my humble opinion, the best fantasy worlds provide that solid, believable underpinning without overshadowing the characters or the story. I dislike books in which the author seems to be trying to “one-up” the rest of us by making his/her world so rich, so fantastic, so uber-complicated, that we get lost, and not in a good way. The best imaginative transitions are seamless, as though I not only received a permanent visa to the author’s world, but I didn’t even have to stand in line to get it. I can go there whenever I feel like turning pages, and feel as though I belong. And I don’t have to work too hard at it.

This is not so with all readers–some like to be shocked and amazed with over-the-top, wildly imaginative worlds that stretch their sensibilities to the limit. They have no way of explaining how various phenomena came to be, and they don’t care. They agree to suspend disbelief. This may be, to some extent, a product of our video-game culture, where stuff just happens “because it can.”

OK. I suppose you could call me stodgy (and you’d be right!) but I enjoy worlds that I can actually believe in. I believed in Middle-earth, for example. When I was twelve, I dreamed of going there. Tolkien is the undisputed master of world-building–he got it right–and as far as I’m concerned, he’ll never be equalled. It’s a rare author who has his skill-set, not to mention the amount of time required.

So, what about us lesser beings? We have skill-sets of our own, and, in my opinion, we should capitalize on them. Every author has experiences, abilities, and special insights he/she can apply in world-building. And we should have at least a basic grasp of the laws of physics and chemistry…we live by them every day. They are part of our “tool kit”, too. After all, we’re building something here, hopefully something our readers will deem worth reading. What tools do we have available?

–The Laws of Physics and Chemistry

Your readers live by them–it’s harder for them to relate to a world in which those laws are violated/ignored too often. Even “magic” should be well-established, if not actually explicable.

–Your Own Experiences

I can describe ecosystems, habitats, and weather better than those who have lived their lives indoors, because I was a field biologist who spent countless hours in wild places in all weathers. Any part of the story involving horses is likely to be well conceived because I have spent thousands of hours on the back of a horse in all terrain, etc.

–The Lessons of History

If your characters are human, and behave as humans behave, modeling your fantasy society on an actual one will help you be consistent. Readers are often better at spotting inconsistencies than writers are. Nothing jars me out of a fantasy world faster than a writer whose world-building contradicts itself.

–Other Works of Fiction

There. I said it. Writers are also readers, and we cannot help but be influenced by books that captured our own imaginations. We should not strive to emulate them, as we need to carve out our own place, but we certainly can learn from them. Knowledge rarely comes upon us spontaneously–it is conveyed by those who have gone before. I could probably cite influences from Dickens, Homer, and others, in addition to the obvious influence of Professor T.

OK, so our tool kit is getting there. Now, what do we do with it?

–A World Needs a History!

The best world-builders have fleshed out the history of their worlds, though they may not share it all with readers. History is something we draw upon in our own world–it gives us context. If your fantasy characters have no context, they are incomplete. It’s difficult for them to move forward when they have nothing behind them. Some writers simply take a period from our own history (War of the Roses) and convert it into fantasy.

–Cosmologies and Belief Systems

These are also helpful to give the characters context and to help them be three-dimensional. They also help the reader identify with them. Stories often turn on spiritual beliefs, just as in our world. These can be some of the most intriguing, yet tricky, aspects of world-building.

–Climate, Geography, and Natural Phenomena

Fleshing out these details can be important to help put the reader (and the characters) in the scene. Remember–they should make sense and be consistent. I cheat–my world is earth-like. It’s modeled after parts of North America.

–The Bestiary

The world should be populated with critters, and you can decide what they are, where they live, what they do, and what to call them. I have a few opinions on this, as I am a biologist. The critters should be able to exist in the environment you have placed them in. In fact, it’s a big plus if you can explain how each creature evolved within that environment. You don’t (and shouldn’t) have to explain this to your readers, but you should understand it yourself. I pride myself on this in Alterra–yes, we have a dragon, but it’s a dragon adapted specifically for life in a severe environment. I’ve never seen another like it. Real creatures from our own world provide excellent inspiration for believable fantasy creatures.

–Magic Systems

I am in no way qualified to comment on these. Alterra is not a very magical world, and any supernatural phenomena are innate, not learned. There are some primordial, powerful beings whose powers are not well understood, and that’s ok–some things should remain mysterious. Your magic system may be simple or it may be complex, but, as with everything else, it must be consistent! And please, please do not use it for convenience. I despise deus ex magica with the heat of a thousand suns.

I have just realized that I could write many, many pages of stuff on world-building, as it is a very complex topic, but I don’t think that’s what anyone had in mind here. So I’ll close with a bit of advice: Make your world believable in any way you can, short of boring us with unnecessary details. The world is important, but is still secondary to the story and the characters who bring that story to life. Challenge your readers and delight their imaginations, sure–but keep it “real.” You want them to not only acquire that permanent visa, but to use it year after year, to pass it to their children and grandchildren. That requires a memorable, consistent, yet fanciful world for your characters to roam–a world where we can watch your story unfold, and feel as though we’ve LIVED it.

Good luck!

–CSM

Elfhunter Book Blog Tour

[image error] C.S. Marks will be embarking on her 2013 Elfhunter Blog Tour on March 1.

There will be interviews, guest blog posts and lots of giveaways!

March 1 – My Paranormal

Book Reviews

March 4 – Geo Librarian

March 6 - Min Reads & Reviews

March 7- Dab of Darkness

March 8 – Dana Squared

March 12 – Live to Read

March 13 - Book Snatch

March 14 – A Readers Ramblings

March 15 – Waiting on Sunday to Drown

March 19 – Library Mosaic

March 21 – Just a Geek Girl

March 22 – Bookish Whimsey

Marck 26 – CIUT University of Toronto Radio – You can listen online!

March 30 – Momma Says Read

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Why Customer Reviews Exist and How We, as Authors, Should Respond to Them:

Since 2005, I’ve been dealing with the question of reviews. I was a new author back then, and I sweated and fretted every review that came in. Y’know something? I still do, though not as much as I did back then. The reviews came slowly–still do–maybe one every few weeks if I’m lucky. I struggled at first, not knowing how, or if, I should respond. Should I thank the reviewer? Should I answer questions posed in reviews (when is next release date, and so on)? I certainly knew better than to take issue with a reviewer publicly, even then. (I responded to a bad review only once. It was my first one-star, and it indicated that the reviewer was so dissatisfied that I offered to refund his purchase price. I was SO naive back then!)

Now I am most fortunate to have a publicist who looks at the reviews for me. But even before that most wondrous happening, I had stopped looking at my reviews. There are no doubt many on Amazon and Goodreads that I’ve never seen. It’s better that way, at least for me.

It wouldn’t have been a good idea in the beginning, as I learned heaps from the reviewers’ comments. Not all customer reviews are created equal, mind you…but some are incredibly helpful, especially when considered as a group. When the same criticism appears multiple times, you know there’s something there. You learn from it. I’ve seen enough reviews to know what’s “right” with my books, and what’s “wrong” with my books, which is why I’m relatively comfy with not looking at reviews any more. But helping the author to be a better writer is not why reviews exist.

I love a good review–it makes my day! There are some (usually 3-5 stars) that I treasure. Negative reviews hurt, and I have my share of legitimate ones, but they must be taken in stride. Then there are those meant to deliberately hurt/sabotage/damage the book, and those…well, words fail me on those. I’ve gotten them, too. Making the author feel good (or bad) is not why customer reviews exist, either.

Customer reviews exist to help customers–in this case, readers–find products they will appreciate and enjoy. They are meant to aid folks in spending their money wisely, avoiding products that are unlikely to satisfy. They are not meant to falsely promote an inferior product, nor to squelch competition. They should never be written to deceive. They should be relatively unbiased, honest, and voluntary–neither coerced nor compensated.

And how should authors respond to them? In my opinion, we shouldn’t. I used to thank reviewers and answer their questions, but I don’t now (though I am sorely tempted, because I DO appreciate the time, effort, and consideration that the review represents). But customer communities, in my opinion, should be free of any suggestion that authors may be lurking, ready to pounce. There should be no whiff of neediness or desperation. Readers should be allowed to express their opinions without interference from me–even if that interference is positive.

And as for taking issue with, arguing with, or castigating a reviewer–ummm, just DON’T DO IT. Seriously. Don’t. Nothing says “amateur” like a writer railing against a critic–even if that critic is a “troll”.

I know it’s hard. I once had my own troll…a self-published author who decided to bash not only my books, but several other authors at the same time. I must confess I was both hurt and bewildered by the attacks, but I didn’t respond. If I had responded, it would have branded me as an amateur. If I had responded, it would have brought satisfaction and renewed energy to my attacker. I’m so glad I didn’t.

Not every one-star is a troll. I have plenty of honest negative reviews. And, y’know what? So does every other “real” author on the planet! Perhaps we should be like Pinocchio–when we get enough legitimate negatives, we’ll be a “real boy”. We should embrace all reviews–good and bad–because we’re lucky to have them. We’re fortunate that our readers take the time to share their opinions with other customers, because that’s why customer reviews exist.

May the good outnumber the bad, and the stars shine brightly on your work. Best of luck!

Yet Another Sign of the Impending Apocalypse…

Many of us have grown up with classic, poetic descriptions of the “end times”. Everything from the Bible to John MIlton–the apocalypse, hell, the end of days–and all seem to include the horrors of the time. Brimstone, disease, famine, eternal flames, war…yeah, the Horsemen are coming, and they’re coming for us.

Many people believe that the end times are upon us, though I haven’t seen anyone walking around the city streets wearing a sandwich board saying “the End is NEAR!” lately. There’s plenty of evidence that the “horsemen” are alive and well–our world is rife with famine, war, pestilence, and death–but I’m actually thinking that they have hired a “support staff” of lesser horsemen. I see the signs in less obvious places.

On Valentine’s Day, my devoted husband (who is one of the gentlest, most loving souls I have ever had the underserved good fortune to meet), went to a local (name of grocery store) store to purchase, among other things, a dozen roses for me. (Name of grocery store) has gorgeous roses at relatively reasonable prices, and, although I always tell him I don’t need flowers, he can’t resist.

So far, the story is not remarkable–a man goes to buy flowers for his wife on Valentine’s Day. It’s what happened in the checkout lane that amazes me. As the clerk is scanning the purchase, he raises an eyebrow at the roses, then he looks my husband in the eye and proceeds to make the following contemptuous comments:

“You know that these flowers are already DYING, don’t you?”

“That certainly is a lot of money to spend on dying flowers, isn’t it?”

“(Name of grocery store) sure makes a lot of money on these flowers.”

“Must be nice to have the cash to blow on dying flowers.”

Now, while he’s doing this, the unfortunates who are sacking groceries are getting a little red in the face, flashing uncomfortable looks at one another. Little did they know that they would be sacking groceries for the Fifth Horseman–you know, “Rudeness”, or, as he is known in the ancient Babylonian tongue, “Absurdity”.

I can just imagine what he would have done with my grocery cart.

“You do know that those vegetables are not organic, don’t you?”

“You DO realize that migrant workers might have been used to pick those vegetables, right?”

“You know that meat is DEAD, right?”

“Must be nice to be able to afford all that hormone-injected meat from abused cattle. (Name of grocery store) sure makes a lot of money on that meat.”

Never mind that we are checking out expecting a courteous “Thank you for shopping here”. Never mind that we are NOT expecting a berating from an employee who casts aspersions on our choice of Valentine’s gifts. Never mind that we are not expecting that employee to cast aspersions on the employer who pays his salary. Talk about biting the hand that feeds you!

Had it been me, and not my gentle husband, there would have been consequences. I tend not to let such things pass, probably because I am responsible for educating people. Trust me–this fellow needed a little schooling. But as I think about it, the Horseman of Rude probably wouldn’t have learned much. After all, he was only doing his job–not having gained the maturity to realize that the world would be much better off without the benefit of his opinion. I (mostly) knew better by the time I was ten (well, at least I knew better than to say this sort of thing to a teacher, a supervisor, or a customer!).

Maybe that misplaced righteous indignation and smug disapproval can be harnessed for the greater good; we can hope it evolves into something more useful. But when discourtesy and unwarranted self-importance rise to this level, we can only surmise that the End is Near. It seems that the barriers of inhibition and restraint that keep us “civilized” are disappearing at an alarming rate.The Aztecs might have gotten the date wrong, but don’t be surprised if we wake up some morning in the not-too-distant future to find the shadowy specters galloping toward us–followed closely by the ancillary support staff. Among them we will see “Absurdity”, galloping on his argyle steed the color of green neon, raising high his cell phone, his orange Bozo-the-Clown wig rippling menacingly in the avenging wind.

Stop Your Whining!

Americans are some of the most innovative, indomitable, intrepid risk-takers the world has ever seen. They overcome all challenges, or they go down fighting. They battle against the odds. They respond to detractors either with a defiant “Oh, YEAH? Well, I’ll show you. I’ll come back next year ten times better,” or with a thoughtful “Yeah…I deserved that. I’ll come back ten times better.”

So, when in the heck did we, as a nation, turn into such a bunch of thin-skinned, whiny crybabies? Seriously. I see it every day. It seems we can’t abide being disagreed with, we cannot take criticism in any form, we scream and yell and whine about absolutely every negative happening in our lives, no matter how minor. Any obstacle gets in our way, and we act like we’re dying. Why did this happen? Is there any way to reverse this rather disturbing trend?

I have no real insight into this problem, but I have long wondered whether a lack of real hardship, combined with an overabundance of comfort, praise, and leisure, has weakened us. Challenges don’t have to be overcome any more. We not only tolerate mediocrity, we celebrate it. Self-respect, always better when earned, is now “bestowed”.

Writers are some of the worst offenders. Now that the barriers to publishing have fallen, we can put our work out on the market, which means we have endorsed its quality as being sales-worthy. Often, we have not had to face rejection of any kind before we publish, and are shocked, amazed, and affronted when readers give their sometimes-less-than-charitable opinions. There have been some real beauties on Amazon and Goodreads lately, throwing veritable hissy-fits, kicking their writer-feet and claiming they are being bullied by readers and reviewers.

I am actually very sensitive, which is one of my more detestable qualities. I hate to see a bad review, though not as much as I used to. I suppose I’m allowed to be sensitive (I do hope so, as I haven’t managed to “cure” myself of it despite all efforts), but what I’m NOT allowed to do is react in an unprofessional, uncivilized, un-grown-up manner. If I DO react that way, I must face the consequences.

It’s ok to react to criticism. It’s ok even to dislike it (saying “Thank you, sir, may I have another?” is not required). But hissy-fits are best kept private. My spouse, my publicist, my poor friends, my beleaguered “drafts” folder–all may receive the wondrous by-products of my sensitivity. Will I react in public? Ummm…heck, no!

I wish I could talk some sense into some of my colleagues. They don’t stop at private rantings and mass consumption of ice cream. They threaten legal action, they whine about defamation and damages. They rally their fellow “damaged and defamed” writers in an attempt to crusade against what they believe is unfair criticism. Then, some of them get mean.

The response of the reviewers and readers is predictable–they get hostile. They rally into groups of their own, and they get mean, too. Their tolerance for writer misbehavior goes into the negative range (below zero). Things escalate beyond where they should be on both sides of the line.

It would be nice if reviewers would learn to express their criticism constructively–sure. But I grew up in an era when sarcasm and wit were common tools in the reviewer’s arsenal. Sarcasm, which is usually perceived as “bullying” these days, can be a very effective tool in conveying a reviewer’s opinion. Now, it seems, we must make excuses for every shortcoming we find. The writers certainly will–everything from lack of funding for editing services to…well, let’s just leave it at that.

I don’t review books any more. If I write a good one, I may be accused of being in league with the author. If I write a bad one, I may be attacked by the author. And Amazon has taken the step of disallowing author reviews of others in the same genre. Why was this step taken? Because some authors were attacking their competitors. Ye gods.

Man, are these “first-world problems”, or WHAT! Disease, starvation, ignorance, homelessness, heartlessness…where does “criticism” fall on the scale of hardship? When did we forget how to say: “You know…you’re right. I shall overcome this obstacle and improve. The next offering will be better.” When did we substitute “How dare you interfere with my delusional dreams?”

We did that when we allowed the delusions to substitute for the reality of honest achievement.

What’s the future of America? Indomitable, intrepid, and innovative? Melodramatic, sniveling, and vindictive? I shudder to think. It might be helpful, when we are tempted to throw a tantrum on an online forum in response to a bad review, to pause and consider that people have real problems, that they face terrible choices and hardships every day, and that our ridiculous squeaking will only serve to damage our reputations. To do that, we must take ourselves away from our delusions and admit that we are not, in fact, the point around which the universe revolves.

Our drafts folders, however, are fair game!

Interview on I am a Reader

Hello All!

I’m so excited to announce that an interview with C.S. Marks has been posted on the I am a Reader blog! It is extremely funny and interesting and a must read!

You can check it out here: C.S. Marks Interview

 

 

In Memory of the Great Ones…

It’s been a bad year for memories. Two of my beloved horses, who had gone into happy retirements, passed away in 2012. If you’re an equiphile, you understand. There are only so many great horses in the world, and if we’re lucky, one might cross our paths. I have been lucky enough to own many good horses. In fact, I still own some today, but the “great ones” have now left me.

It’s not all bad, because my goals have changed. I no longer compete in the grueling sport of endurance (so called because your legs feel like gruel afterwards), and I ride now for pleasure, preferring long ambles in the forest, preferably in the company of friends. A great horse is probably wasted on me–I sent my last potentially great one up to Ohio to live with a younger, fitter fellow who has yet to feel the icy grip of middle age (jeez…melodramatic much?). Point is, my snot-rocket days are probably over.

When someone dies, we sometimes shut down for a while. Memories prove painful at first, as they do now for me. The recollection of untold hours spent conquering untold miles through some of the most beautiful country on God’s earth, knowing that the horse and I would take care of each other, makes me sad. I don’t know why, really, as these past events won’t happen again even should my lovelies have lived forever (which I wish they could). I suppose the finality of death has brought that reality home.

Over the next few weeks, I’d like to share several examples of how great these wonderful horses were–how much they enriched my life. If you are an equiphile and have a story to share, please do! I’ll post it.

We don’t–we can’t–sing their praises enough.

Let’s begin with the tale of the Kettle Moraine ride in Wisconsin. It was a hundred-mile, fairly easy course (with a few exceptions), that provided two unforgettable memories. One was the gallop through the L-O-N-G flat stretch through a beautiful grassland. The moon was up, the sky a deep purple shading to black, and the ground mist lent an otherworldly quality to the sight of two white Arabians moving in relative silence, side-by-side, tails in the air. I had never felt freer than in that moment–moving in perfect synchrony with this patient-yet-spirited creature who had so willingly allowed me to share it with her. The ride went on and on, the ground falling back beneath our feet, and my friend and I never wanted it to end.

The other memorable moment came later, after several additional hours of effort. We had slowed to a walk through the pitch-black of a pine forest. I could barely see my hand in front of my face, but I could make out the pair of white ears moving steadily back and forth in rhythm as my patient mare made her way resolutely toward the finish line, which was still about eight miles away. I knew she wouldn’t fail me, and that was a great comfort. An undetermined number of minutes later, I was shocked to realize that I had actually fallen asleep on her back! I had been dreaming of sunny trails, ducking under low-hanging branches, trotting along happily. Now all I saw was that same pair of ears, still moving in the same rhythm, as if to say: “go back to sleep. I’ll get you there”. And she did. If you’re lucky, you have a horse like that once in a lifetime.

R.I.P Auzzie (“Eros”) 1980-2012

R.I.P. Starborrne (“Siva”) 1984-2012