Author Archives: Amy Jane

Most-Influential Novels

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I suppose this is sticking my neck out– admitting what I like the most– but I wanted to mention my four most-influential novels at this point in my writing. Except for #2 I found all of them randomly on the recorded-book shelves at my library. Those, without exception, I’ve “read” more by listening than from the page.

  1. The Perilous Gard by Elizabeth Marie Pope
  2. Enchantment by Orson Scott Card
  3. The Sea Wolf by Jack London
  4. Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte

I will do my best to explain why they are they what I like. Doubtless I will find or remember more reasons as I continue to reread them.

  • All involve a journey and a change. All build on characteristics the protagonist(s) have to begin with, but doesn’t imagine any of them are already complete (lacking only knowledge of their completeness, a la Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz).
  • More than one character changes.
  • All involve a thinking character watching the process of his or her thought. They are very rarely oblivious to something the reader knows (This element, btw, usually makes me feel a character is foolish. If they’re seeing what I’m seeing I usually expect them to know what I know.)
  • All acknowledge (and explore to some extent) the power of relationship.
  • All include thought-provoking observations of their times.
  • All have good conversations.
  • One potential negative: they all start slowly (I hope I don’t follow this too closely), with no punchy first line, but still intriguing in their own ways.
  • They all have surprising twists and secrets that the reader discovers with the protagonist.
  • All have a life at risk (at some point) and overcome an old enemy through what they’ve learned on their journey.

I love nearly everything about The Perilous Gard: Character, plot/twists, protag’s realizations driving the story, the organic inclusion of the gospel in a not-religious book.

Enchantment is something like an adult version of what I want to write– that is, based on a fairytale world and system, based in an older time.

It is “adult” in its descriptions and relationships, but not crude or explicit. It has the… holiest (maybe too strong a word?) description of sex I have ever found in fiction: the “mystical union” of man and woman both solidifying their marriage and being stronger together than individually. Children are an asset and pregnancy a key plot-point. I was also delighted to watch the interaction of several married couples.

Too many writers seem to think marriage is boring, so even when they’ll show it that negative attitude comes through. Here marriage is both present and meaningful.

The narrator of The Sea Wolf is an intellectual and a writer, and I love the way he describes his unavoidable interaction with both the intellectual and experiential aspects of human nature. The noble aspects, as well as the base.

Some *wonderfully* articulated descriptions of how men and women strengthen each other.

I’ve always loved the interaction and subtext of Jane Eyre, along with the clue-dropping that isn’t recognized until the mystery is revealed.

If I can get these types of things organically into my novels I will be thrilled.

Aim high, right?

30-20-10 (Years Ago)

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So it’s a meme (Kaye tagged me), but it’s a story too, so I’ll have it here.

Where were you 30, 20, and 10 years ago?

30 years ago I wasn’t even a twinkle in my father’s eye. Not even old enough to be a big sister’s wish.

20 years ago I had been in Alaska for two years, loved homeschooling, and was a new believer.

While I have vague memories of “asking Jesus into my heart” any number of times before (I remember once nodding knowingly as another boy explained he had to do it more than once– because Jesus was always going out of his heart to go into the hearts of others), it was at 8 that I knew I knew what I was doing.

I remember laying under a small quilt someone gave me when I was a baby, and talking awkwardly into the dark, Jesus, I want to accept you because you’re You– not just because of what you’ve done or *can* do, but because of *who you are.* I’m sure this had been the focus of some sermon or talk shortly before, and my developing intellect was just becoming able to make the distinction in motivation.

In the end it was (to some extent I think all things must be) by reflecting the concept through the prism of myself that I *got* it.

I have, several times in my life, been very performance driven. That is, I found too much of my value in what I did or how I thought others perceived me. Already at 8-years-old I was realizing I didn’t want to be accepted or loved because of what I could do. I wanted to be loved for *me,* because someone found me love-able.

And I could really imagine God feeling the same way. So that was the best way I knew to honor Him.

Continue reading »

What is a Man?

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Okay, so I can’t not-opine.

There is this idea out there that a woman’s brain turns to mush when deprived of adequate adult interaction and stimulation (Read: “You sucker Stay-at-home-moms are gonna go stupid”).
If that is true of some, it isn’t of me. More often the danger for my brain is explosion.

Writing lets off a bit of the pressure so I don’t say as many un-thought-out things in real-life.

Like yesterday, when I randomly gushed some vague, meaningless mush about how proud I was of a fellow who’s moved out of boyhood and become a man. (My toes curl just thinking about how stupid that had to sound.)

Poor dears didn’t even do anything to deserve it– I just had a few to many thoughts swirling around and the extra escaped in a blur.

(My apologies, M and A, if you’re reading this. Usually my random attacks of thought are much more organized.)

~ ~ ~

So, since it was in my mind enough to spill out, I wanted to see if I could organize these thoughts.

What do I mean by a man? (Again, this is not a thesis, only random thoughts– lest anyone expect too much).

  • A male (let’s start with the basics ;) )
  • Someone who has begun thinking beyond himself
  • Someone who is working at making that style of thought paramount
  • Someone who is using that others-focused thinking to direct his behavior
  • Someone whose decision to benefit someone else is not based on receiving a reward

When we (mostly women, mostly when we were single– I hope) complain about a guy needing to “grow up,” we’re usually talking about one of these (last four) things.

Sabbatical?

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In case anyone’s noticed how slow it’s been lately: I have dived back into reading, writing, and revising YA (particularly my novel).

I’ve been mostly avoiding blog-reading and blog-writing because it’s too easy to become like the company one keeps, and that type of writing is distinctly different from where my heart and passions are right now.

I’m not sure when or how often I’ll be posting for a while. Enjoy the archives! ;)

The Joke

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That Joke that you told isn’t funny one bit.
It’s pointless and dull, wholly laking in wit.
It’s so old and stale it’s beginning to smell–
Besides, it’s the one I was going to tell.

(Anonymous)

*Sigh*

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Isn’t it disappointing to disagree with people we love or admire?

Really, disappointing is the best word I can think of (it was Grandma’s word too). For me it somehow encloses both the bigness and smallness of the realization: adjusting to the sense of the bottom dropping out beneath me, and the simultaneous, honest, What’s the big deal?

Because I really shouldn’t have to explain everything, right? And yet I *want* to. I want to hear someone say, “You’re right, I agree with your choice.”

Isn’t that just about the most affirming thing we can hear?

The Zebra Storyteller– a Tuesday Tale

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For the first time in the short history of TT, I am including a literary tale in its entirety (first read in English 211x, collected from here). It was short and meaningful enough to be free of any need for improvement.

 

By Spencer Holst

Once upon a time there was a Siamese cat who pretended to be a lion and spoke inappropriate Zebraic.

That language is whinnied by the race of striped horses in Africa.

Here now: An innocent zebra is walking in a jungle, and approaching from another direction is the little cat; they meet.

“Hello there!” says the Siamese cat in perfectly pronounced Zebraic. “It certainly is a pleasant day, isn’t it? The sun is shining, the birds are singing, isn’t the world a lovely place to live today!”

The zebra is so astonished at hearing a Siamese cat speaking like a zebra, why, he’s just fit to be tied.

So the little cat quickly ties him up, kills him, and drags the better parts of the carcass back to his den.

The cat successfully hunted zebras many months in this manner, dining on filet mignon of zebra every night, and from the better hides he made bow neckties and wide belts after the fashion of the decadent princes of the Old Siamese court.

He began boasting to his friends he was a lion, and he gave them as proof the fact that he hunted zebras.

The delicate noses of the zebras told them there was really no lion in the neighborhood. The zebra deaths caused many to avoid the region. Superstitious, they decided the woods were haunted by the ghost of a lion.

One day the storyteller of the zebras was ambling, and through his mind ran plots for stories to amuse the other zebras, when suddenly his eyes brightened, and he said, “That’s it! I’ll tell a story about a Siamese cat who learns to speak our language! What an idea! That’ll make ’em laugh!”

Just then the Siamese cat appeared before him, and said, “Hello there! Pleasant day today, isn’t it!”

The zebra storyteller wasn’t fit to be tied at hearing a cat speaking his language, because he’d been thinking about that very thing.

He took a good look at the cat, and he didn’t know why, but there was something about his looks he didn’t like, so he kicked him with a hoof and killed him.

That is the function of the storyteller.

From THE ZEBRA STORYTELLER, Station Hill Press (914-758-5840)

 

The Books are Back

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or at least on their way.

This press release says the books should be reviewed and returned by January of 2008.
(Here is the post where I first mentioned religious books being removed from prison chapel libraries.)

I did the count I promised in that post– of the books that are still accessible (i.e., not boxed under the house): 627

I’m actually certain this number isn’t accurate, since I counted in 8 catigories in 11 different areas (shelves and piles) in my house, so there was too much room for confusion and flubbing.

Approximate percentages:

25% ———– Children’s picture and board books
25% ———– Non-fiction/ thinking/ reference
16% ———– Novels (all ages)
10% ———– Bibles, studies and “religious” books
10% ——— Folktales (individual picture books and collections)
6% ———— Music and How-to books
5% ———- Entertainment (plays, Calvin and Hobbes, etc.)
3% ———— Poetry

Amazing, really, how many books I own. Interesting, too, that most of those I choose to keep accessible are the ones I’ve already read.

I suppose there’s two main reasons for owning books (anyone want to suggest more?):

  1. To have something new to read when you want it.
  2. To be able to refer to something you’ve already read.

I’ve decided all the books I buy at the used-book stores must come from the first type of owner. That type of reading/ownership is utterly foreign to me. I almost never let something leave if I think I might want to refer to it again.

“Oh Lord, help me forgive those who sin differently than I do.”

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Have you ever noticed how easy it is to be incensed over certain sins?

As football season was starting there was flap about the player involved in dog fights, and my husband (not the least bit sentimental over animals for various reasons) asked what the big deal was.

That is, he knew why people didn’t like dog fighting, but was asking why this particular fall from grace was drawing more vehement and widespread criticism than any of the other stupid and sinful things public figures are exposed as being involved in.

In my typical way I launched into an off-the-cuff explanation as though it were a prepared speech. It went something like this:

Dog-fighting is something it’s safe not to like. It’s been reduced to a fringe activity in recent days, so you can be outraged and unrestrained in your criticism without having to worry about offending or provoking defensiveness in any of your acquaintances.

Or, even if you did, you’d feel on high moral ground that you wouldn’t be threatened by their disagreement. Nothing they can say would make you weaken your stance.

Anyway, people will rarely pass up a chance to look superior.

Other things, like a temper, say, or adultery, lying or arrogance– all these touch much more widely and deeply in our “civilized” world.

People get a “who are you to throw the first stone?” mentality, or (to invoke another stone cliché) realize they’re probably living in a glass house, and so refrain from throwing stones.

I don’t know enough about football to know how good a player Michael Vick is, so I don’t know how seriously to take it when commentators say he’ll have a hard time getting reemployed. They make out that it’s the league “taking this offense seriously” and I think more than that it’s a “rising star”(to quote one article) who hasn’t risen fast enough to make owners/coaches/whoever think he’s good enough to be worth the bad press.

I don’t know if I’m defending him or not– I just know that all I could think of was a quote I read recently:

Stephen Covey was asked after a speech about how to forgive someone who has committed adultery. He said the question made him think of the old prayer, “Oh Lord, let me forgive those who sin differently than I do.”

We are all in need of redemption (I wrote a post earlier about wanting to understand or redeem the villain reflecting an understanding of evil in our own hearts), and we shouldn’t try to fool ourselves that one sin is less of a stench in God’s nostrils than another.