Monthly Archives: April 2008

A New Reason to Love FireFox (and an endorsement of Bones)

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So I’ve mentioned I got addicted to the show Bones on Hulu.

I didn’t mention they have a “limited commercial interruption” style of sponsorship. That basically means that the same commercial (or product) comes on at each normal commercial break.

*But* Firefox’s ad blocker blocks even those, and once we were watching together on my husband’s computer (which has AdBlock enabled) we watched nothing but show. Very cool.

DH (dear husband)’s gift to me arrived Saturday: Seasons one and two of Bones on DVD.

I’m still re-watching Season One with Jay (as we get the kids down early enough), but I’ve started watching Season Two ahead of him (since I’ve finished One already).

The direction is very different between seasons. I didn’t think I was the sort of person to notice that sort of thing, but everything from camera movement, costuming and scene-cuts has changed, so maybe it’s impossible to miss.

If you’re familiar with the Harry Potter movies it’s a little like the shift between (I think it was) movies 2 and 3, where the kids went from school-robes all the time to “normal” every-day sort of clothes.

Disclaimer: This show does require a high gross-out threshold. Glimpses of the dead are not gratuitous, but neither are they obscured or made “artistic” in any way (frankly I don’t know how that could happen, but I’ve hear some people try).

Other than the pilot the ladies are generally dressed as you’d expect self-respecting, emotionally-healthy professionals to be, and the namesake lead, while being emphatically her own woman, does not emphasize or accomplish that by being disrespectful toward men (a first in my viewing experience).

~ ~ ~

The primary selling point for this show is its characterization, and I really appreciate the way the writers have handled the someone’s-dying-every-episode element that plagues (or I think should) the conscience of every show like this.

Having established that the characters talk about significant things, the writers use them talking about the affect their work has on them and the value of every human life. Better (I imagine) than most body-a-week shows, Bones works to make each victim an individual and shows how the cases affect the lives of those working on them.

Why Does Sin Grieve God?

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It’s not because he’s some prude or fancy-pants, holding a fluffy, lace-edged handkerchief to his nose when he pretends to smell something distasteful.

It’s because Sin is to God what Death is to us.

Actually, it would be fair to say that sin is worse than death, because those of us who are believers have the joyful expectation that we will see our loved ones again. Some of them at least.

Sin is the ultimate separation.

Indeed, the LORD’s hand is not too short to save,
and His ear is not too deaf to hear.

But your iniquities have built barriers
between you and your God,
and your sins have made Him hide [His] face from you
so that He does not listen.

Isaiah 59:1-2

It isn’t just that God doesn’t like sin. It’s also that sin builds barriers between us, and while God has made a way to remove the barrier (through his son’s voluntary death in our place) He knows not everyone will jump at that chance.

Synopses

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I doubt anyone has noticed, but I’ve updated my Infant Novel page half a dozen times in the last 3 or 4 months.

Mostly changes to the “What’s the novel about?” question, because it’s always been cluttered and convoluted. I know you’re supposed to be able to explain your story in one or two sentences, and I’ve not figured out yet how to do that.

The 9- or 10-year-old little brother of one of these kids came over to me while the 13-year-olds were reading my first chapters and asked what the story was about. I tried to rattle off my one-sentence summary and realized it was absolutely useless.

So I went home and changed it that night. Still no better.

But I just updated it again, because (seriously) the older version was worse. And since this one made me laugh— though I suspect it will be equally opaque to most readers— I’ll post it here too.

Getting a stranger out of a bad bargain he made with Hell wasn’t the first thing on the Beauty’s mind after disenchanting her Beast, but she needed something to do while on the run from the executioner.

I am definitely open to suggestions on how to do this better.

One plus about this rendition is that the situation sounds almost humorous. Which is weird, when you think about it.

So few words and still a story!

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From Familiar Quotations by John Bartlett, 14th Edition (1968)

“My men, yonder are the Hessians. They were bought for seven pounds and ten pence a man. Are you worth more? Prove it. Tonight the American flag floats from yonder hill or Molly Sparks sleeps a widow!”

— John Sparks (1728-1822), before the battle of Bennington, August 16, 1777

What Kind of a Writer am I?

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The portfolio I mentioned last week was my final for an “intermediate” creative-writing class.

I titled it The Partial Histories of Often Confused People and filled it with three poems and four short stories. Most of the stories were strongly based on real occurrences, or how I imagined reality to be from a smattering of facts I’d gleaned.

Mostly “downer” stuff for some reason.

Each of them hold hope, but they’re all very heavy. I re-read the ending of one and it actually got me choked-up.

This class was the place I first learned to consciously vary my sentence structure. The teacher called me on my repetitive tendency to start each sentence with the subject (e.g., these two sentences).

Now whenever I start a sentence not that way I’m aware that the reason is that class. I think it made me a better writer.

Here’s the teacher’s response to the work (where the title of this post comes from). It’s interesting think this is from four years ago, and I think about how I’ve changed and how I’ve stayed the same.

Well, thanks much for The Partial Histories of Often Confused People. It is a good collection and seems very Amy, standing up for what it believes in, assembling moments with no small sense of conviction.

Having said that, I’m not sure just yet what sort of a writer you’re meant to be, someone writing stories or literary nonfiction — or maybe essays that allow you more room in some ways to tackle the issues that clearly matter so deeply to you.

I’m somewhat inclined to see you in that final sense, using your training as a journalist and your affection for telling stories to create different kinds of essays.

Whatever you tackle it will be spirited. And perhaps if you go the essay route, the sense of humor you display in class will also find an outlet on paper (humor is almost totally absent in your stories, which seems odd considering how downright goofy you can be in class— that’s meant as a complement, honest).

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Continue reading »

April Links

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Finding God in 5 Steps

Because 5 Things I Learned the Hard Way That I Believe Fostered the Right Disposition for Gaining a Better Understanding of God but Since I’m Just Some Fool With an Internet Connection and Not a Pastor or a Theologian You Should Take This and Everything Else I Write With a Big Grain of Salt, just felt too long.

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I Can Live

The artist’s story of his mother leaving the abortion that would have killed him.  While completely outside my usual style of music a very intriguing and moving piece (H.T. Sarah)

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Stuff Christians Like is already a terrific place to go for a grin, but for more of a blink-and-think than a laugh I encourage everyone to read Letting Porn Win.

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Ten Commandments of Trying a Case

A smart evaluation of the weird J.K Rowling vs. Biggest-Fan case by Bluestocking.

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Two writing blogs I’ve just discovered and enjoyed.

Book Therapy and So You Wanna be Published…

Their very usable writing and noveling advice makes their archives more of a trap than many blogs’.

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And as a side note, I’m 29 today. Jay’s coming home a bit early to make a cake with the kids and we’ll have a family night.

About that other stuff…

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It is interesting how much our (however temporary) present reality can affect our thinking.

I wrote that pair of posts about “Not just staying home” while I was still recovering from my severely twisted ankle, and while I was still basically useless around the house.  (And feeling a higher need to justify non-house activities.)

Today, while I still think it’s good to have a vision beyond my days with children at home, I got to tire myself out in a satisfying return to my “domestic duties.”

Jay came home from his evening meeting at church and saw the work I’d done. “Well, we totally blew that Sabbath,” he said, referencing my accomplishments and his work on his car.

I didn’t have words for it at the time, but now I’d say that my cleaning felt like an act of worship, in a way it maybe never has before. I was so *delighted* at what my recovering body could do.

Despite my clingy boy’s protestations (no guilt here), I cleared and swept the floor of the front part of my little-ish house. That would be the living room, kitchen, and dining area.

Those, along with 2 dishwashers and 4 racks of sink dishes cleaned over the weekend (Jay’s good help) and a cheery new (hand-me-down) floral couch, have transformed my home and me. I am positively Miss Domestic again.

For the moment.

After being physically-incapable of maintaining my home for about a month, I am reeling. Giddy. I am doing my job and getting back to doing it well.

I was telling my husband just last week, “When I feel absolutely refreshed and energized when I come home from a writers’ group or a critique meeting, I feel like that’s an indication it belongs in my life. The question left is, where?”

I felt like that tonight only about homekeeping. Without the hanging, Where?.

And I made two (good) meals from scratch in the same day, in addition to cleaning, and cooking’s been a challenge as long as the cleaning, so this also feels like a victory.

I feel a disproportionate delight when I see these accomplishments that will (in theory) mean nothing tomorrow.

But what I think God’s been teaching me about this homekeeping stuff during my convalescence is that it is meaningful the next day.

By maintaining daily the accumulating areas, I keep stress and additional clean-up times minimal, providing more freedom to do fun and creative things with my kids.

And I (almost) never do creative –read, messy— stuff with my kids when the house is out of order.

The fact that I have had seasons of fun, creative stuff-doing reminds me I can get (and even keep) my house in order. But, as in everything, it is only by the grace of God.

Happy Monday, everyone.

My Last Poem

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The third of three poems I’ve written on-purpose.
(First two here.)

~ ~ ~

This is the vastly improved version. Which might indicate the quality of the original.

I realized (maybe) why I never write poetry: I had a start here with a series of images, and my mom had the kids (’cause I’m sick and she gave me the morning to rest).

With those prerequisites I resurrected the idea and gave it a body in this poem.

Just one poem in a chunk of time all to myself (I might have finished a chapter in that same time). Little wonder I don’t do poems in my real-life.

Poetry definitely appeals to me, though. I am hooked on imagery and economy of language.

What’s Wrong

A hand came.  You may or may not
remember.  Inserting a hellish
needle it inoculated you

Against peace, against trust.
Things you now pretend
not to need, because your system
fights them.  You think
you’ve learned to live
without them, and you call this
strength.

Why is your pain
a precious thing?
It’s as natural as Lake
Iliamna— maybe even as huge—
but it’s as putrid
as old
cream
cheese.

That’s gangrene you’re ignoring
while it can only spread.

You are not so unique; we all know this
agony: a blanketing burn
that makes any touch ungentle.
And as much as I ache
to bring you to the healing hands
you must first agree you need them.

Revision #1 is Over

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Commencing revision #2.

I always wondered how other authors could count the number of revisions they’d made, because I’ve been constantly returning to “Revision #1” in my working moments, not feeling it was worth double-saving with a new number since it was obviously better the new way.

But now I’ve got an idea.

~ ~ ~

This latest talk on cutting (and the reading and thinking I’ve been doing) has brought me to a new outline, greatly streamlining the plot and action.

It’s 20% as long as the last one. Insanely simple. I’m hoping it proves to be more than a skeleton…

Yes, I feel like I’m losing some pet characters and interactions, but I also hope this new organization will be easier on the readers.

There’s too much fun stuff in my first revision to whittle any more at it, so I decided to set it aside in its own little folder (with it’s preface, postlude and 43 chapters), and start with a fresh canvas.

I expect to build the new revision by bringing in just the parts that are on my skinny new outline and see how it holds together with some new ligature.

It seems very exciting just now.

(And, no, no one else has to think so. :P )

Revising = Reimagining

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Maybe every writer should work on poetry once a year– to remind themselves that cutting, even a significant percentage of words and meaningful images that don’t quite fit, will result in a stronger work.

I know for me the exercise was a challenge, but it was an excellent parable.

Once I was free to remove elements that didn’t fit (the original assignment forced me to insert a metaphor that didn’t fit the rest of the images) the whole piece became stronger.

~

With my WIP (work-in-progress) I am currently trying to identify similar segments. Those that exist because (when I wrote them) I thought I needed them and now, especially compared to the strongest pieces, don’t quite fit.

Watching the poem improve was an effective parable, and very motivating, but it’s made me unsure about my current vision/expectation for my novel.

Right now it’s like herding sheep.

That is to say, with the right training I should be able to do it with patience and the expectation that everything will eventually end up where it should go. But not actually having that training (getting it on-the-job) I am feeling an increasing urge to reduce the size of my “flock.”

I don’t think I need to eliminate characters, necessarily, but I’m trying to decide if I need to have less of them doing interesting and significant things.

Fantasy lends itself to sprawling, panoramic, masses-affecting action. Maybe that’s why so many are insanely fat or grow into series.

My immediate desire for simplicity seems less natural/easy to achieve.

So now, instead of writing more from my latest outline, I’m going through what I’ve written (much of it at NaNo speed) and trying to decide what the purpose of each segment is; whether it advances the plot, whether the novel’s better with this action on- or off-stage, etc.

It’s more tedious work, but I trust it will both tighten the end-product and reduce the amount of un-used writing I end up with.