Month: July 2010

I feel sorry for used books. More specifically, I feel sorry for the authors of those used books.

Don’t get me wrong, I adore book sales – the sea of books, the pleasantly blank faces of browsing patrons, the dusty, moist aroma of old pages. I love these slightly new, slightly read, slightly treasured books. I love the atmosphere, the smells, the sheer overwhelming urge to take all of my clothes off and dive into the middle of a huge pile of books and wallow around like a walrus amongst the dusty book jackets and yellowed pages.

Okay fine, I’m the only one with that urge.

And yet, I can’t help but feel sorry for the little guys. There they sit, all perfectly lined up, all hoping that some avid reader will pick them, take them home, read their fine print, and caress their pages. These poor, pathetic, slightly damaged little books all hope that someday, somehow, their dreams of being placed in the coveted, and much-loved bookcase will come true.

Used books are like skinny, pathetic, mature dogs at animal shelters whose eyes are bigger than their whole bodies. It just breaks my heart to see so many of them passed by. People prefer puppies because they are small, they are full of promising entertainment, and of course they’re cute.

New books are cute, too. See their shiny covers? Do you hear how the spines moan and creak when you part the pages? Have you noticed how the fluorescent glow of the bookstores’ lights bounce off the glossy jackets? They are tempting, true. The thought of buying a book that no one else has likely touched – the pages have not been sullied with the oils from another human finger. The pages are crisp; they crackle with pleasure as you turn them. New books are like a new puppy; they are exciting, fun, and hold so much promise of many entertaining hours ahead.

But alas, new books are expensive. And they quickly depreciate in value once you’ve stepped over the threshold of the bookstore. They grow old quickly, their pages yellowing, the ink fading from rich oil blackness to the dull, matte like finish of weathered asphalt.

And then no one wants them. And then they end up in a used bookstore. The most they can hope for at this point is some old woman with missing teeth snatching them from their wire bins, gutting their innards, ripping their pages out, one by one, and lining her shopping basket with them to protect the cans and bottles she collects for their recyclable value.

Book enthusiasts must unite. We must form an organization to save “mature” books. They didn’t ask for this treatment; they were born to please, to entertain, to illustrate dreams and provide a backdrop for the imagination to freely paint a picture.

And how do you think the authors of these books feel? Do you think they ever pore over the books in a used bookstore and gasp with surprise when they see their baby, forgotten and abandoned, among so many other orphans? All of their hard work has been reduced to bargain bin prices. What must they think?

I often wonder what my reaction would be, to see my work offered for the low, low price of .10 cents. Would it bother me? Would I feel cheapened, perhaps even used in some discarded bookish way? I’ve thought long and hard about this, weighing realistic reactions to fantasies of saving the books and carrying them out of the store like Richard Gere carried Debra Winger out of the factory in the movie, An Officer and a Gentlemen.

Would I cringe when I watched people pick my book up, lightly scan the blurb on the back and then promptly slip it back into its slot? Or would it be worse to watch them carry it around for a bit, weighing the entertainment possibilities, and then deciding it wasn’t worth their time, to toss it haphazardly down, the book sticking out like a white puppy surrounded by black canines because now it’s sitting in the wrong genre bin. Would my heart lurch with pain? Would I hyperventilate with sorrow?

It’s hard to answer that with certainty. I’m sure I would feel a measure of disappointment, sure; I’m human after all. However, I don’t think it would crush me. I don’t think I would take it personally. Because you see, I’m not writing for fame and fortune, though that is certainly a sideline perk, but rather, I write because I enjoy it. It releases some sort of unseen, indeed, unknown, tension deep inside my soul and I feel satisfied that I was able to extract it before it spoiled and turned to rot, distorting my outlook on life in general. I write because I want to leave a small part of me behind. I write because of the personal satisfaction and the knowledge that my words might very well jump start someone else’s imagination – for creativity seems to be a dying art in today’s world. And last, but not least, I write in the hopes that the reader closes my book feeling better about themselves specifically and the world in the general.

Tell me, why do you write?

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This was originally published on Write Anything, April 28, 2006.

I think we should legalize marijuana.

Did I get your attention? Yeah, I got my public speaking teacher’s attention in college, too. (Sorry to keep talking about my college years, but they were monumental growth years for me).

Our assignment? – to write a persuasive paper on a controversial issue. After sitting through scads of boring, put-me-to-sleep arguments (which really weren’t arguments because the issues were no-brainers, why we shouldn’t allow smoking in the dorms, etc.) I decided to shake things up a bit. Yeah, I know, big surprise. *snicker*

So, taking my audience into consideration, I began to run through a gamut of topics – college students, young, cool … what about drugs? But what drug specifically? I needed to pick something that I could effectively argue for or against, depending on my stance.

So, I picked marijuana. After researching the topic exhaustively, I decided to argue for legalization. I practiced not only saying the words so they flowed easily, but my facial expressions, my hand gestures. I looked at the issue from all angles effectively recognizing, and then rebutting possible arguments. I addressed all of these issues in my paper – I was ready.

The professor asked to see all papers and to approve the subject matter before we got up in front of class to give our presentation. Somehow, mine slipped through the cracks and she didn’t actually see, or read, my paper until it was time for me to give my speech. She pulled me out into the hall, pale and shaking. There was no way she could allow me to give my speech. It was too persuasive and given the type of audience, I could very well convince my fellow classmates to hurry out and fire up some giggle weed.

At first, I was angry. I worked hard on this paper, spent a lot of time checking and double-checking my facts. I was prepared and ready to go. But after stepping back from my injured pride for a moment, I realized, she had a point. I couldn’t, in good consciousness, stand in front of thirty some-odd students and convince them that the act of smoking itself was more harmful than the actual drug.

So what happened next? Was I given another chance to speak on something else? No. Did I get an F for the assignment? No.

I gave my speech, but with a minor adjustment. I had to tack on “for medicinal purposes” at the end of each “marijuana should be legalized” bit.

I wasn’t happy about this, but I certainly understood why we had to do this.

I’ve since learned that writers have a huge responsibility to their readers. That what we write about might very well persuade an opinion, or goad a person into action. It was a humbling, and somewhat awe-inspiring lesson.

The art of persuasion can be applied to fiction, too.

I recently finished a book called “Desert Wives” by Betty Webb. It’s about polygamy, well, murder in a polygamy camp, to be precise.

Ms. Webb handles this sensitive issue with aplomb. She keeps the story centered on the murder but liberally sprinkles the story with various facts about polygamy. I was truly horrified by this lifestyle and very nearly turned off from finishing the book, but only because of the polygamy issue, not because of the story itself. I never once felt Ms. Webb was trying to hit me over the head with facts or was trying to persuade me that polygamy was ok or otherwise and that got me to thinking. Why don’t we see more fiction handle sensitive issues? Why aren’t we taking full advantage of our voice to educate people in subtle ways? Oh sure, fiction is meant to entertain us, but writers can slip in facts and information, tricking the reader to come to their own conclusions.

Ms. Webb includes several factual pages at the end of the book about polygamy: the history, the crimes associated with the practice, the birth defects because of inbreeding, how they slip through law loopholes, how taxpayers end up paying for the children because the men divorce them only to marry another but keep the women as common-law wives, so to speak. It goes on and on. Inserting this information at the end of the book was just the medicine I needed to swallow this disturbing issue. The story teased my curiosity just enough to make me want to learn more about the practice, and Ms. Webb headed me off at the pass, providing me with the information I needed.

I closed the book feeling impressed. Impressed that Ms. Webb was able to balance facts with fiction, to entertain me and yet inform me, no small feat. I wouldn’t recommend this writing style as a general rule; it takes a certain finesse to carry this off without coming off too preachy, but the technique is certainly thought provoking.

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This was originally published on Write Anything, April 14, 2006.

What makes a man cheat on his wife?

What makes a loving wife and mother leave her family?

What drives a successful businessman to murder?

What makes a reader believe these characters are capable of carrying out actions that are , well, out of character?

The answer? Creating characters that readers both care about and believe in.

Is this easy? Sometimes, it depends on how strong of an image a writer has of his/her characters to begin with, but creating an in-depth character profile is essential to creating personalities that readers can, and want, to care about.

Characters work best when you create a virtual identity for them. The character can then inhabit an imaginative space in the reader’s mind, a space that you have created. Readers go along with characters as long as the characters remain coherent (and believable). From Linda N. Edelstein, Ph.D.’s book The Writer’s Guide to Character Traits.

Creating a full-fledged, well-rounded character is the second hardest thing for me when I begin a new story (plot being the first, but that’s another post). The physical features are easy enough, hair color, eyes, body type, race, but when it comes to gestures, family background, political beliefs I tend to lean toward my own views and preferences and before I know it, I’ve put myself into the story.

To avoid this, and to spare my readers from having to put up with a two-dimensional ME, I tend to go overboard and stretch my characters all out of shape, writing stories from the viewpoint of a child, or a man, or an old person (though that’s not all that far fetched anymore *cringe*) just so I WON’T be tempted to insert myself into my characters.

My stories tend to be chewier, like a piece of tough meat, when I’ve taken the time to flesh out my characters, though I confess, I HATE making character profiles for the simple fact that it takes time, a lot of time, not to mention forethought, which is not something I have an abundance of, preferring instead to write by the seat of my pants. But I’m always glad I made the effort later on.

For instance, I was going through some old floppy disks last night and stumbled across a couple of character profiles that were actually close to being completed (now there’s a shocker, I almost completed something??). Though I have no recollection of ever making these profiles, I felt like I knew these people, that I knew exactly who these characters were, just from reading their profiles.

I know what you’re thinking. “How droll! How boring! Who has time to devote to a character spreadsheet!”

Indeed, they can be boring and certainly time consuming, but the payoff is worth the effort. If you, the writer, have a clearer idea of who your character is, then your reader certainly will. And if you have a clear-cut, sympathetic character, then that will make your story that much better. And if your story is good, your reader will remember it, and you.

(I used the word character 22 (23 if you count this time) times in a piece 538 words long. My technical writing teacher would be very disappointed in me. )

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This was originally published on Write Anything, April 7, 2006.