Proof

Describing The Avengers to James Hibberd in EW (8/30/2013), Joss Whedon said, "I don't think you'd look at it and go, 'This is a model of perfect structure.' You'd go, 'This is working.' I like it. I'm proud of it and I like its imperfections."

First, I love me some Whedon.

Second, I was conscious of Whedon's words when this arrived Friday:

Isn't the choice of black for the cover SOOOOOO pretty?

Whedon's last two sentences are how I feel about the S.P.O.T.D. series as a whole:
I like it. I'm proud of it and I like its imperfections.

Kindle Edition Available

It's no Target endcap, but it still makes me happy to see...

The print version should be available soon, as well.

A Final Dilemma: To Swear or Not to Swear

This happened about a week ago.

I had the entire text of SPOTD: The Final Face-Off revised, copy edited, proofread, and ready to export with Adobe PDF Presets [PDF/X-1a:2001]. Yeah, that's pretty much 5 minutes away from being ENTIRELY done (upload to LSI, order my proof copy, done).

I was stuck on one word.

I'll be vague enough to avoid spoilers. There's a short scene where Chase eavesdrops on some older kids. The older kids are angry. Older kids swear and use impolite insults and rough language when they are angry. I was writing dialogue. The dilemma: to swear or not to swear.

On the one hand, Stephen King says in On Writing that “if you expect to succeed as a writer, rudeness should be the second-to-least of your concerns. The least of all should be polite society and what it expects. If you intend to write as truthfully as you can, your days as a member of polite society are numbered, anyway.” 

On the other hand, my books are for elementary kids.

So, I brainstormed swear words and insults that would fit the sentence in question, and settled on the word asinine. It has a nice forbidden sound, without being a four-letter word per se. I could hear the speaker in question using the word.

Then I imagined my elementary teacher friend Karinda Groothuis reading the sentence aloud to her class. Would she hesitate and possible skip over the word? Um, yeah. I imagined 10-year-olds bringing their copies of the book to their parents for a definition. Would they wonder what on earth their precious little ones were reading? Um, yeah. I imagined the word finding its way onto the school bus or out to the playground. Would it be repeated? Possibly. Would that make the word a better place? Probably not.

In short, was it worth it to write the scene as I heard it, with the language the characters were screaming in my head? Again, no.

I finally decided that I would regret insulting readers and parents and teachers more than I would regret a small lapse of writer's integrity. Integrity to the dogs, I worked around the rough language by stating, "He swore." I did include the insult "stupid," which is an accurate description of the action in the scene. It took me 45 minutes to decide on this one word. I'm satisfied.

Done.

Kill Your Darlings

During my big college scholarship interview, I was asked what (who) I liked to read. My answer? An honest one: Stephen King. I had fallen for his short story and novella collections and moved on to The Stand (still my favorite Stephen King novel, tied with It) and the first book of the Gunslinger series. I credit my success (I won the scholarship) to my impassioned answer. So I trust the guy.

In his book, On Writing, King says to “kill your darlings, kill your darlings, even when it breaks your egocentric little scribbler’s heart, kill your darlings."

Designed by Chris Ritter

The phrase "kill your darlings" is generally attributed either to Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch or William Faulkner. It has been in the news recently, as it is the title of Harry Potter's next film. Erm, I mean Daniel Radcliffe's next film, based on the lives of the beat poets, due out in October.

In any case, it is good advice. Way back in 2007 or so, Sandra Scofield recommended the same drastic chopping to my summer writing class at the University of Iowa. What she said was, "Oh, you have a full manuscript? I suggest you throw it all away. Start over."

Harsh.

At the time, I did not have a manuscript to delete. But I scoffed at the idea that some day, when I did have words on paper, I would willingly hit the backspace key or send the file to the trash.

My mind has changed on this matter.

In the past three weeks, I have copy edited (again) and proofread volume 3 of Super Power of the Day (both print and digital versions), which means I've read it through several times, quickly. It turns out that when I "catch" on a line or phrase that I want to smooth over, it's usually in a sentence or section I've already revised and just can't get right. When this happens, I have found it most productive to simply cut the sentence. After all, my revising mantra is"simplify."

So the past few weeks have been replete with the killings of darlings. The voice at the back of my head saying "But I love that line!" has been comforted, and then hushed. The red pen has ruled the day.

Thanks, Uncle Steve.

Eating Words

I've been delving into a little detective fiction lately. Among others, I read my book club's August choice: Janet Evanovich's hilarious One for the Money.

One thing that struck me in a visceral way was all the coffee the characters drank. Perhaps I was fixated on coffee because I've recently given up caffeine, and a decent decaf is a bear to find. Reading as characters gleefully slurp away at their java? Distracting.

But the truth is, I am sensitive to food in novels. I find myself craving whatever it is they happen to be eating. This is probably why I cook a nice seven veg curry stew to feed to my students whenever I teach Chinua Achebe's Things Fall Apart.

Nearing the End

A few minutes ago, I stumbled upon this brilliant comic:

Check out Magical Game Time to see more.

Thank you, Zac Gorman. You have perfectly summed up the ending of Super Power of the Day. In fact, you've summed up the theme of the entire series.

And in a way, the process of writing the series.

In her book The Happiness Project, Gretchen Rubin discusses the connection between growth and happiness, arguing "it isn't goal attainment but the process of striving after goals–that is, growth–that brings happiness" (67).


My sister and I had a conversation about her contention last week.

I thought I agreed with Rubin. I usually prefer the striving part of a project. Planning a lesson. Building a house. Writing (editing) a book. Or three. It has truly felt like going on an adventure.

Cindy pointed out that it depends on the project. If the "work" part is unpleasant, the striving is NOT the happy part. Yeah, she's a runner.

In any case, I will finish my (hopefully final) copy edit of SPOTD: The Final Face-Off within hours of writing this blog.  It could have been done days ago, but I don't want it–the happiness of the striving–to end. I rather enjoy puzzling out the exact wording or design to tell my story in a simple, beautiful way.

My story about saying yes to adventure.

(The next part is marketing. I suspect that will feel more like a 10k.)

PIRATES!

My favorite books leave me shaking my head. In a good way. Mostly my head waggles when I am awed by talented authors' ability to arrange words and ideas in ways I couldn't conceive myself. Cinnamon and Gunpowder is one such book by one such author.

Here's what I liked about the novel:

1 An ingenious conceit: A pampered gourmet chef is kidnapped by a fearsome female pirate. WHAT?!? (Trust me, it works.)

2 A first person narrator who begins as a stereotypical person "of his age" but develops complexities as his worldview changes, all the while speaking clever, but always clear, 19th century English.

3 A classic quest -- with our hero finding not what he seeks (freedom), but knowledge of himself and his world (a different sort of freedom).

4 Attention to language. What I especially love is the way Wedge unerringly sees the world through his culinary eyes and nose. Each simile, metaphor, judgment, and proverbial summing up is based on shopping for, preparing, or enjoying foodstuffs. Here's a taste (pun intended):

"I had once seen a fox trot up to a picnic on the grounds of Asford Manner and, despite the crowd of revelers, make off, more or less unnoticed, with a string of sausage. Such are the rewards of brazenness. With the sentinals of the Royal Navy searching for the Flying Rose in the Indian Ocean, here she was, quietly anchored not a mile from English grass."

And another:

"I will spare myself the needles of remembrance. My survival depends on being present, focusing all of my energies on dodging the captain's threat. I must not linger on the sweet memories of my beloved Elizabeth, rest her, laughing with a jasmine candy in her cheek, nor of good men sharing a glass of port; not will I linger on the softness of my down pillow back in London, nor on clean undergarments, nor on the view of the orchard from my kitchen window, not on eggs--oh, eggs!"

When I began SPOTD, this was my goal as well. I wanted my narrator to see the world through a clever youngster's eyes. I consciously attempted to use analogies that a 12-year-old boy (not a 40-year-old woman) would use. Alas, these are sprinkled more sparsely than I intended. Perhaps as I continue to revise and edit this week I'll be able to add a flavorful phrase or two along these lines. So to speak.

But wait.

There's another fantastic feature of Cinnamon and Gunpowder.

5 PIRATES!

I think this will be the Summer of Pirates, in fact. I've already polished off Peter Pan and Wendy, in anticipation of a fall production.

While in Florida last week, I purchased a Jolly Roger flag and several pirate-y belts. And I intend to hit up as many garage sales as possible this summer looking for pirate-worthy striped clothes.

So...

I'm currently scrounging for great pirate reads to continue the Summer of Pirates, 2013. I've read the four book graphic series Hook. 

And I've checked out Michael Crichton's Pirate Latitudes.

Any more suggestions? They don't have to be particularly literary. It is summer, after all.