Scanning the 'net for news of myself (yes, I admit it. I do this), I found a review of Sentence of Marriage. Well, sort of. The site in question seems to have picked up the wonderful review I got from WorkingGirlReviews, pushed it through an automatic translator and back to something approximating English. Now that I've stopped being completely convulsed with laughter, let me share the joy.
The original is here
And the mangled version is here.
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Writing about real people
Although I use historical settings, I've studiously avoided using real, historical characters in my works. Over the years I've read and enjoyed many books that do portray real people, but I have an aversion to doing it myself that almost borders on fear. I'd hate to "get it wrong".
Recently I was blog-browsing, following links from one to the next, as you do, until I was so many link-layers in that I can't now remember whose blog it was or how I got there. I do remember that the blog quoted an author whose opinion on the subject helped me crystalise my own: what I feel most unwilling to do is use a real person as a point-of-view character. I simply don't feel comfortable thinking someone else's thoughts for them, when the person is not one of those characters living within that chaotic place I call my mind.
It's good that I've got that straight at last, because it's become increasingly clear to me that in my current work-in-progress I need to include a real, historical figure: the real, historical headmaster of an Auckland school. Oh, I could manipulate matters to avoid this. I could use a different name, but the headmaster at the time was a fairly well-known figure, and the school in question has a building named after him. I could scurry further from the issue and use an imaginary school, but anyone who's at all familiar with Auckland in the early 20th century would know what school I'm referring to. So I've taken the plunge, and am using the real Mr Tibbs (a name I'd hardly dare invent) for a short scene on enrolment day.
I'm fortunate enough to have read the memoirs, retrieved for me from the distant basement stacks of the library, of a man born just a few months after my point-of-view character for these scenes, and who went to this very school. He recorded his memories of his own enrolment day, so I can put words in Mr Tibbs' mouth that he is on record as having said. I've daringly added a few words of my own invention, but I don't think they will have the gentleman turning in his grave. And I've stayed steadfastly out of his head.
Recently I was blog-browsing, following links from one to the next, as you do, until I was so many link-layers in that I can't now remember whose blog it was or how I got there. I do remember that the blog quoted an author whose opinion on the subject helped me crystalise my own: what I feel most unwilling to do is use a real person as a point-of-view character. I simply don't feel comfortable thinking someone else's thoughts for them, when the person is not one of those characters living within that chaotic place I call my mind.
It's good that I've got that straight at last, because it's become increasingly clear to me that in my current work-in-progress I need to include a real, historical figure: the real, historical headmaster of an Auckland school. Oh, I could manipulate matters to avoid this. I could use a different name, but the headmaster at the time was a fairly well-known figure, and the school in question has a building named after him. I could scurry further from the issue and use an imaginary school, but anyone who's at all familiar with Auckland in the early 20th century would know what school I'm referring to. So I've taken the plunge, and am using the real Mr Tibbs (a name I'd hardly dare invent) for a short scene on enrolment day.
I'm fortunate enough to have read the memoirs, retrieved for me from the distant basement stacks of the library, of a man born just a few months after my point-of-view character for these scenes, and who went to this very school. He recorded his memories of his own enrolment day, so I can put words in Mr Tibbs' mouth that he is on record as having said. I've daringly added a few words of my own invention, but I don't think they will have the gentleman turning in his grave. And I've stayed steadfastly out of his head.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
My best review ever
So far, anyway.
Sentence of Marriage
I submitted "Sentence of Marriage" to a review site recently, and this morning I received a review that quite literally had me dancing around the room. Perceptive, generous, and responding to the elements of writing that mean the most to me. I'm gobsmacked in the best way.
Sentence of Marriage
I submitted "Sentence of Marriage" to a review site recently, and this morning I received a review that quite literally had me dancing around the room. Perceptive, generous, and responding to the elements of writing that mean the most to me. I'm gobsmacked in the best way.
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Lines that don't stand in isolation
Recently on Authonomy, someone started a thread for people to post favourite lines from their own books. I leapt on it, fingers poised to post a few of those that never fail to make me laugh or cry (and occasionally both).
And came to a complete standstill. Because taken in isolation, the most animated reaction I could hope for would be along the lines of, "And your point is?"
"Reformed whores, Jack" perhaps retains a certain trace of grim humour, even without its context.
But "This had somehow become his fault", a line from Book Four that the Mr and I often use to each other, gives no sense of the weeks of marital negotiation, sleep deprivation and other game-playing that precede it.
And
"I’d have to come and get you if you didn’t, you know."
"I know."
comes after years of power play, passive (and not so passive) aggression, and large doses of self-deception, only to appear as a trivial exchange left bare on the page.
On reflection, though, it's not surprising. Clever wordplay, convoluted puns and extended jokes come from Pratchettian pens, and deliver witty one-liners that can raise a chuckle even out of context. But lines said by or about characters whom we've seen grow and interact over years don't have that luxury.
I think I'm in good company. "Reader, I married him" is almost cringeworthy taken on its own. And what could be flatter than this:
" 'Well I'm back,' he said."
And came to a complete standstill. Because taken in isolation, the most animated reaction I could hope for would be along the lines of, "And your point is?"
"Reformed whores, Jack" perhaps retains a certain trace of grim humour, even without its context.
But "This had somehow become his fault", a line from Book Four that the Mr and I often use to each other, gives no sense of the weeks of marital negotiation, sleep deprivation and other game-playing that precede it.
And
"I’d have to come and get you if you didn’t, you know."
"I know."
comes after years of power play, passive (and not so passive) aggression, and large doses of self-deception, only to appear as a trivial exchange left bare on the page.
On reflection, though, it's not surprising. Clever wordplay, convoluted puns and extended jokes come from Pratchettian pens, and deliver witty one-liners that can raise a chuckle even out of context. But lines said by or about characters whom we've seen grow and interact over years don't have that luxury.
I think I'm in good company. "Reader, I married him" is almost cringeworthy taken on its own. And what could be flatter than this:
" 'Well I'm back,' he said."
Monday, July 13, 2009
The Future of the Book
was the title of a recent radio interview with Ursula Mackenzie, CEO of Little, Brown Book Group. The later part of the interview fits the title more than the earlier; that's when Mackenzie talked about e-books and where she sees them fitting in the world of publishing. She speculated that publishers might test the water with a new book by releasing it first as an e-book, and only if sales warranted it then producing a print run, which is an expensive business.
The interview can be heard by clicking here, then selecting "Future of the Book".
The interview can be heard by clicking here, then selecting "Future of the Book".
Friday, June 19, 2009
Sympathy for the villain
Yesterday I had an e-mail from a reader who'd just finished the final volume of "Promises to Keep". Her comments were warm and enthusiastic, and she's making her enthusiasm tangible by buying a copy of "A Second Chance", which she wants me to autograph it for her.
All of this is wonderful, but what I was perhaps most pleased about was her attitude to a particular character. He's not a likable character (to put it mildly), and earlier in the book this same reader was wishing him dead. But thoroughly evil characters are mercifully rare in real life, and I don't generally find them interesting in literature. I certainly have no desire to write one. Characters grow, and the reader grows in understanding of them. My correspondent told me almost apologetically that by the end she had tears in her eyes for this man.
It felt good.
The people at Lulu have adjusted their agreement with Amazon so that there's no longer an extra charge to buy my books via Amazon. This seems a good thing.
All of this is wonderful, but what I was perhaps most pleased about was her attitude to a particular character. He's not a likable character (to put it mildly), and earlier in the book this same reader was wishing him dead. But thoroughly evil characters are mercifully rare in real life, and I don't generally find them interesting in literature. I certainly have no desire to write one. Characters grow, and the reader grows in understanding of them. My correspondent told me almost apologetically that by the end she had tears in her eyes for this man.
It felt good.
The people at Lulu have adjusted their agreement with Amazon so that there's no longer an extra charge to buy my books via Amazon. This seems a good thing.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
As listed on Amazon
Lulu has done a deal with Amazon, which means that three of my books now appear in the Amazon marketplace. I was more chuffed by this than cool logic should suggest. The books are substantially cheaper on Lulu, but there's a certain thrill in having my work appear in the catalogue of such a high-profile retailer.
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