Mark E. Mitchell's Blog, page 2
August 7, 2012
57, and still like being read to.
I actually believe I've learned more from things people have read to me than I've enjoyed what I read myself. My wife read to be about "reverse timeout," the "Miracle Method," "Toilet Training in Less Than a Day," and other classic concepts, and I not only absorbed them, I have preached them to interested (and not interested) people many, many times. If I had read those things myself, I wonder if they would have had the impact on me that I did. By far the majority of the information I gathered in medical school was lectured to me, although I must admit, my weary eyelids took advantage of the darkened room and the droning voice many many times as well. Still, there is something about hearing something that is more memorable to me than reading it. Maybe the gates of information gathering at the auditory canals are more wide open than the gates at the optic nerve. Maybe it is because hearing something carries the message in more reality along the ways where comprehension occurs, while seeing gets more distracted along the way. I like to read a good book, but hearing it seems a richer experience to me. I can still detect the author's style, etc. I hope I can "hear" well enough to make good decisions as to what the author's saying, and whether I want to continue with him/her.
July 9, 2012
magic!
I am opposed to magic on the one hand, but on the other, I believe it with all my heart. As far as the opposition goes, I not believe it against the laws of the universe for power to come from nowhere. I also believe we do not receive anything to merely satisfy our whims. The magic lamp and the three wishes simply do not happen.
On the other hand, I see magic in all the world around me. When I see a mother practicing infinite patience with her whining or otherwise obstinate child, when I see people practice unsolicited kindness, when I see the love of God resting in people's eyes and countenances, I see pure magic. When I see a light bulb blossom into brightness instantaneously, when I see my thoughts appear before me magically as I work my fingers on this keyboard, when I hear the sound of loved ones hundreds of miles away, I know once again that there is magic in the world.
But I don't need to go that far even. When you see these (at one time) arbitrary symbols in front of your eyes, whether on paper or on screen, and without even considering, interpret from them the very meaning I am trying to portray, even though I wrote many hundreds of miles or years separate from you, is that not the most marvelous magic of all?
On the other hand, I see magic in all the world around me. When I see a mother practicing infinite patience with her whining or otherwise obstinate child, when I see people practice unsolicited kindness, when I see the love of God resting in people's eyes and countenances, I see pure magic. When I see a light bulb blossom into brightness instantaneously, when I see my thoughts appear before me magically as I work my fingers on this keyboard, when I hear the sound of loved ones hundreds of miles away, I know once again that there is magic in the world.
But I don't need to go that far even. When you see these (at one time) arbitrary symbols in front of your eyes, whether on paper or on screen, and without even considering, interpret from them the very meaning I am trying to portray, even though I wrote many hundreds of miles or years separate from you, is that not the most marvelous magic of all?
July 7, 2012
Separation of Reality and Fantasy
How often have we read a fictional story and been as much a part of it as if it were an actual, literal part of the world? I remember after we read the Narnia books to my little brother who was somewhere between the ages of 4 and 6, we found him crying in a corner.
"What's the matter, Hughie," our brother Jim said.
"I wish Narnia were real," Hughie said. I shared his sentiment. Still do.
Some studies have shown that the brain activity that occurs when someone is considering some kind of a fictional event is no different than that experienced when considering reality. That means, as far as our brains are concerned, there is no real difference between fantasy and reality.
So when I write a work of fiction, and I do a good job, so it seems realistic to the reader, and the characters are real, and the reader can identify with the protagonist, he/she will experience my story as much as they experience the reality of his/her own life.
That has enormous implications to me as a writer. I have great responsibility to see to it that what I give people, even though it is not strictly historical, is uplifting, beneficial to them. In order to do such, I must seriously consider my own motivations in my writing. Am I writing to get people to pay attention to me, whatever the cost? Am I writing just to entertain myself? Am I writing to benefit mankind, to help people see truth more clearly, make judgments more confidently and competently, find happiness more surely? I hope the latter answer is the true one, but surely the first two are at least possibilities from time to time...
"What's the matter, Hughie," our brother Jim said.
"I wish Narnia were real," Hughie said. I shared his sentiment. Still do.
Some studies have shown that the brain activity that occurs when someone is considering some kind of a fictional event is no different than that experienced when considering reality. That means, as far as our brains are concerned, there is no real difference between fantasy and reality.
So when I write a work of fiction, and I do a good job, so it seems realistic to the reader, and the characters are real, and the reader can identify with the protagonist, he/she will experience my story as much as they experience the reality of his/her own life.
That has enormous implications to me as a writer. I have great responsibility to see to it that what I give people, even though it is not strictly historical, is uplifting, beneficial to them. In order to do such, I must seriously consider my own motivations in my writing. Am I writing to get people to pay attention to me, whatever the cost? Am I writing just to entertain myself? Am I writing to benefit mankind, to help people see truth more clearly, make judgments more confidently and competently, find happiness more surely? I hope the latter answer is the true one, but surely the first two are at least possibilities from time to time...
July 2, 2012
How to be a Fool
Unfortunately, I am an expert in this field. Equally unfortunately, one might think that if a person were an expert in foolography, one could entertain readers endlessly by regaling them with tales of their own adherence to the title of this piece, but that is not the case. Lessons in foolishness are quite painful, embarrassing, often devastatingly mortifying, and I, as a nearly pathologic optimist, am too eager to leave my school-of-hard-knocks-learned-lessons behind in their own ignominy.
In actuality, I believe I am doing myself as well as my (potential) readers a disservice by leaving out the bad parts of my life. They are the very best learning I have received. Why can I not share them with people to give them a chance to learn as I have? Because people wouldn't believe someone could be that foolish? Nice try. Because it would make my protagonists less favorable in the eyes of the (potential) readers? Maybe. Because I have an aversion to writing negativity? Yes. Because I tend to idealize my protagonists, and am unable to think that much foolishness of them, even though they are nothing more than extensions of myself? Yep. Do I just about define hypocrisy? 'Fraid so.
In actuality, I believe I am doing myself as well as my (potential) readers a disservice by leaving out the bad parts of my life. They are the very best learning I have received. Why can I not share them with people to give them a chance to learn as I have? Because people wouldn't believe someone could be that foolish? Nice try. Because it would make my protagonists less favorable in the eyes of the (potential) readers? Maybe. Because I have an aversion to writing negativity? Yes. Because I tend to idealize my protagonists, and am unable to think that much foolishness of them, even though they are nothing more than extensions of myself? Yep. Do I just about define hypocrisy? 'Fraid so.
June 26, 2012
The Whining Child
It is so interesting how some words are self-descriptive. Anyone that has been around a child that indulged in the habit named in the title of this piece can more easily conjure up the memory (if you can stand it) by just hearing the word.
Why do some children whine? Is it because they are generally unhappy or specifically unhappy? Hopefully the latter.
Has there ever been a parent that liked to have their child whine? I would hope not. I can't imagine a single scenario where the parent would welcome that ceaseless, high-pitched keening.
Now, I give a bit of advice. If you have a child that is a whiner, do not give them what they are whining for. Why not? Because if you give them what they want, you are sending the very strong message that their whining pays off. Therefore they will whine again. And again.
What does this have to do with books and reading. Only this. If you can instill a love for reading and books in a child, they will not whine because they will be too busy reading.
Now if that is not incentive to get your child to love to read, I know something about you. You have never had a whining child.
Why do some children whine? Is it because they are generally unhappy or specifically unhappy? Hopefully the latter.
Has there ever been a parent that liked to have their child whine? I would hope not. I can't imagine a single scenario where the parent would welcome that ceaseless, high-pitched keening.
Now, I give a bit of advice. If you have a child that is a whiner, do not give them what they are whining for. Why not? Because if you give them what they want, you are sending the very strong message that their whining pays off. Therefore they will whine again. And again.
What does this have to do with books and reading. Only this. If you can instill a love for reading and books in a child, they will not whine because they will be too busy reading.
Now if that is not incentive to get your child to love to read, I know something about you. You have never had a whining child.
June 20, 2012
book prejudice
It is interesting how it works. A well-written book with a good plot and well developed characters is a treat to read no matter what the genre. (Although I will admit, I do not like horror, and will not voluntarily read it, no matter how well-written the story, or well-developed the characters)
Why then do I have my "favorite" genres? (Fantasy, sci-fi, adventure) Yes, I enjoy books of those types, but the books that have moved me the most as a rule are not in any of those genres. Why do I have prejudice against every other kind of book, even when (as is always the case) I enjoy them when I read them? Even more hypocritically, I am even writing in genres I don't list as my favorites. Now, is that about the height of hypocrisy, or what?
All right. I ask the question again. Why do I claim to like the genres I claim to like? The answer is kind of silly, actually. It is also quite hypocritical. The genres I claim to like, as a rule, are more event intensive with less introspection than the genres I do not claim to like. That probably means they are hard hitting but not life influencing. Without looking at things very hard, it seems pretty obvious I need to change my book attitude...
Why then do I have my "favorite" genres? (Fantasy, sci-fi, adventure) Yes, I enjoy books of those types, but the books that have moved me the most as a rule are not in any of those genres. Why do I have prejudice against every other kind of book, even when (as is always the case) I enjoy them when I read them? Even more hypocritically, I am even writing in genres I don't list as my favorites. Now, is that about the height of hypocrisy, or what?
All right. I ask the question again. Why do I claim to like the genres I claim to like? The answer is kind of silly, actually. It is also quite hypocritical. The genres I claim to like, as a rule, are more event intensive with less introspection than the genres I do not claim to like. That probably means they are hard hitting but not life influencing. Without looking at things very hard, it seems pretty obvious I need to change my book attitude...
June 18, 2012
I read while I'm driving.
(The title words are true, but I don't do it often and I only selected that as a title so people would be horrified or interested in some other way. Sorry. A cheap trick)
Lately, most of my "reading" has been done as I travel in my car, listening to books on CD. This is delightful, (and often I find myself regretting arrival at my destination) but it is most necessarily a very different experience from reading. Interestingly enough, when the story is read aloud, I cannot help but notice the author's writing much more than I do when I read it. Word redundancy, grammatical weaknesses and discrepancies are more apparent, while punctuation and typographical errors are almost always unappreciated, because the reader corrects them on the fly. (When I edit my own things, I do not catch my most subtle errors unless I read the piece aloud. That is a pain, but as soon as I revert back to silent reading, I miss something)
Still, it is fascinating to realize how much of the personality of the author and the story comes through both media. Recently the fifth book in a five book series was not available on CD so I broke down and checked the book out. While I was deprived of the reader's interpretation of the sounds of the characters' voices, I was struck with the very obvious sameness between that part of the series compared with the other parts. I am confident it would be the same for any series I both read and hear.
That leads to a question, and then to a conclusion that is a bit of a leap. Would I have the same feelings from a given work if I were to read it in Braille? What if there were a code worked out in tastes like the Morse code, but with an 'a' being a sour and a sweet, a 'b' a bitter and salty, a 'c' a bitter and sweet, etc? Or a code made up of smells? What if I were to read or hear a good translation of the book in Japanese? (My strongest alternate language) Always, always the book is the same, whether we were to read it or hear it, or taste it or smell it or feel it, or experience it from a different part of the brain, it would be virtually identical to our experiencing it through any other medium. Is it possible that reading is a hybrid of all our senses? Could it even be one of the senses? Hmmm.
Lately, most of my "reading" has been done as I travel in my car, listening to books on CD. This is delightful, (and often I find myself regretting arrival at my destination) but it is most necessarily a very different experience from reading. Interestingly enough, when the story is read aloud, I cannot help but notice the author's writing much more than I do when I read it. Word redundancy, grammatical weaknesses and discrepancies are more apparent, while punctuation and typographical errors are almost always unappreciated, because the reader corrects them on the fly. (When I edit my own things, I do not catch my most subtle errors unless I read the piece aloud. That is a pain, but as soon as I revert back to silent reading, I miss something)
Still, it is fascinating to realize how much of the personality of the author and the story comes through both media. Recently the fifth book in a five book series was not available on CD so I broke down and checked the book out. While I was deprived of the reader's interpretation of the sounds of the characters' voices, I was struck with the very obvious sameness between that part of the series compared with the other parts. I am confident it would be the same for any series I both read and hear.
That leads to a question, and then to a conclusion that is a bit of a leap. Would I have the same feelings from a given work if I were to read it in Braille? What if there were a code worked out in tastes like the Morse code, but with an 'a' being a sour and a sweet, a 'b' a bitter and salty, a 'c' a bitter and sweet, etc? Or a code made up of smells? What if I were to read or hear a good translation of the book in Japanese? (My strongest alternate language) Always, always the book is the same, whether we were to read it or hear it, or taste it or smell it or feel it, or experience it from a different part of the brain, it would be virtually identical to our experiencing it through any other medium. Is it possible that reading is a hybrid of all our senses? Could it even be one of the senses? Hmmm.
