REAL REALITY, REALLY?

 

Friends of mine, living in Israel, told me their GPS has stopped working.

 

“It keeps insisting we are in Beirut,” they said.

 

They called their phone carrier and also the makers of the app, who gave them the runaround and finally admitted the IDF has been scrambling navigation in order to foil the GPS-guided missiles coming from the northern border.

 

Before they got the real answer, I suggested different possibilities, including an IDF action, as to why their phone set them in a neighborhood in Lebanon’s capital. My last suggestion, tongue in cheek, was inspired. “Perhaps,” I said, “you are in fact in Beirut and you’re the only ones who don’t realize it?”

 

This would make a good novel, I think.

 

This got me thinking about the real-life couple who followed GPS blindly, which led them to fall into a hole in the ground. Another family took Google Maps voice navigation straight into a dead-end desert road.

 

All of these would make good stories and should be developed further into tales of digital worlds replacing our flesh and blood eyes and ears experiences.

 

And speaking of the rare but real flaws of digital navigation, our schools have stopped teaching a new generation how to use printed paper maps. For all the real-time information they lack, they remain an important tool. For that matter, learning to orient with the stars should also be part of basic education. Just sayin’.

 

Because you never know when the next time the digital masters will decide to re-set our reality.

 

Oh, wait. They are doing it in many ways already.

Is the Writer’s VOICE the Same Regardless of Format?

 

Going back to Karen Jones’ questions for writers (see here)— I find this one intriguing.

 

If writerly voice = the personality of the narration, then something of the voice is the same even in different formats. It’s the same person who’s writing the picture book texts or the novels.

 

But somethings are different, because of the constrains that formats impose. This is why we often hear that an author had finally “found her voice” when author switched formats. I remember another writer in my picture book critique group who, after reading my first middle grade book, sent me a glowing email saying that I had “the perfect middle grade voice.” It was a new one she hadn’t “heard” from me.

 

But what I find differentiates voice even from the same writer (in this case, me) is writing in a different language. Languages have personalities, and even speaking them (real voice) I sound somewhat different. It’s been a long time since I wrote fiction in Hebrew, so I may confuse personal life chapters with writing voice. But even my letters in Hebrew and English have distinct personalities.  Not to compare, Vladimir Nabokov testified to same.

 

Personally, I like to stretch and have my feet in more than one format. From the world of commerce, this isn’t the ideal strategy. Marketers like to have artists as “brands,” and thus box us in. But for my own need to keep toned, this stretching is good for creative dancing.

“PAST IS PROLOGUE”

 

Editors, I’m told, don’t like prologues.

 

A story needs to start in the present. Prologue forces us readers to scroll back before we’re allowed to knock on the door. “Just let me in, blast the past,” the exasperated editor is saying, taking on the readers’ cause.

 

Books of yore had no such impatience. We live and read in a rushing age.

 

How do you feel about prologues?

 

My personal view is that short prologues pique my interest, similar to the back cover teasers meant to sell the story. Long ones, if well written, captivate. But then it’s a letdown when they end and it feels like I must now shift gears to a new, (as in the now) story. If I make the adjustment, I’m glad for the prologue. If I lose the thread right then, it’s a fail.

 

The current writerly wisdom is to sprinkle back story in bits throughout the narrative of the “now.”

 

That’s fine. But it isn’t the only way to make sense of the present.

 

"What's past is prologue" is a quotation of William Shakespeare from his play The Tempest. In contemporary use, the phrase stands for the idea that history sets the context for the present.

 

Prologues have a legitimate place in literature.*

*I used the Palatino Linotype font in this post on purpose. Old and relevant.

WRITTEN BY AI

 

On my previous agent quest, one of the agents I queried had this question on her submission form:

Was the manuscript, in whole or in part, written by AI?

Really? Really.

 

Mind you, this agent was looking for fiction. Technical writing (think brochures, manuals, and business reports) are now largely assisted by AI and its predecessors, the writing programs like Grammarly, Scrivener, and even Microsoft Word. I use Word to catch typos as I type, and heaven help me, many still escape this smart program.

 

But writing novels is a different process, and it seems AI has joined the ranks of those of us (humans) who venture to tell stories.

 

If you write with the goal to “get published,” (harking back here to my last post) I suppose you may test AI to see if it can churn something that would pass for genre literature. These are formulaic by definition, and machines can do formulas.

 

If, like me and most writers I know, you write to explore and discover meaning and understanding, then AI has no place in your process.

 

AI? FGDAI ! (=Forget about it)

 

As to the agent who asked, I replied, “Heavens, no.” Maybe my mention of the divine realm made her decline my submission swiftly. Probably not. But the very fact of her asking got me regretting the submission as soon as I pressed Send.

 

Really.

What Counts as “BEING PUBLISHED”?

 

Going back to Karen Jones Gowens’ list of questions for writers,  (see here) I will address my personal take on the matter of whether self-publishing (in addition to traditional publishing) also counts as “being published.”

 

Whether labeled “co-op,” “subsidy,” or the dreaded “vanity,” self-publishing in its many forms amounts to the writer paying to be published. Regardless of how much of the preliminary work the writer does themselves (are you also a designer? An illustrator? A specialist in art cover?), there is an expense to putting out the product, and the writer bears this expense.

 

I respect the effort and the quality of the best self-published books. They are “published,” in the basic sense of being made publicly available.

 

But your work isn’t “being published” if you are the active force (as in paying and designing) to make the work public. To “be published” is in passive tense for a reason. This means others have taken the work and brought it to market on their dime.

 

To me, “being published” means traditional publishing paid you. Ideally, with advance and royalties, or even just royalties. [I’ve had one of each.] If you are the publisher of your own work, it takes nothing from the work itself as such. But you (i.e., your work) haven’t been published.

 

Just my take, one of many, and I’m claiming no right or wrong in my understanding.

A MYSTERY, INSIDE AN ENIGMA

 

“A riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma”

That which is so dense and secretive as to be totally indecipherable or impossible to foretell. It is from a line used by Winston Churchill to describe the intentions and interests of Russia in 1939

 

I was thinking about what makes an enigmatic character. Think Inspector Dalgleish from the P.D. James novels, or Clarisse from Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451. Charismatic and lovable, but what drives them is only hinted at, never neatly solved.

 

These are my favorite kind of characters and my favorite sort of stories, where everything isn’t neatly wrapped in a bow.

 

Standing in awe of the mystery is what I consider contemplation prayer to be. It is how I understand notions of the divine. It is also what makes for the most powerful art.

 

The headwinds, when writing for young readers in particular, are the how-to conventions of the publishing professionals who insist on clarity of motives and neat endings that resolve all questions.

 

Maybe this is why I keep The Little Prince front of mind. He asked a lot of questions and, while a few answers float in here and there, the little guy himself remained an enigma.

 

This little prince is testament that even stories for all ages can feature riddles wrapped in mystery inside an enigma.

SEEKING STRUCTURE

 

Structure is the first aspect of building a story. It’s also how we frame coherent thoughts.

This post speaks of how crucial it is for writers, specifically of memoirs.

Books like SAVE THE CAT in all its variations give not only rough, but very detailed story beats.

If you’ve read the original, written specifically for screenwriters, you will never see most movies the same way. You’ll recognize these story beats, or turns, clicking in like clockwork.

At least for me, all genre stories begin to read the same.

The mini surprises lie in the specifics, but never in the rising or receding action/tension. The cat gets saved with numbing predictability.

Good story structure is a safety net. But please don’t be a slave to it.

Who am I saying this to?

The storyteller, of course. The storyteller in me.

SATISFIED OR DISAPPOINTED?

 I picked this question from Karen Jones’ post on the list of questions she’d like to ask writers:

 If you have written your book, do you feel satisfied with it or discouraged and disappointed?

 

I know creative people who are almost always let down by their output. Blisters! I also have heard, repeatedly, that it’s the mark of the great ones to be unhappy with their performance, for what they aim for is many notches above the result.

 

I’m not one of those tortured souls. This makes me conclude I’m decidedly not one of the greats. I am deeply satisfied at the end of each first draft, when the words THE END would be added, had I been trained in the days when writers typed “The End” at, ahmm, the end.

 

I’m satisfied that I did it. That I brought it home. That I told a complete story. It’s a kind of a high I can’t imagine getting from a drug or libation.

 

Depending on the story and also the length of the journey first drafting took, this high lasts from a few days to a few weeks.

 

It’s upon tackling it again, in subsequent drafts, that the cracks begin and get wider as I go. It’s beta readers’ feedback, pointing out inconsistencies, holes and the most absurd typos, that doubts and disappointment take hold.

 

The fixing journey is a long one, and I don’t enjoy it. But there, too, I have mini-highs when I patch the potholes.

 

So, my answer is that writing a book is a mix of joy, satisfaction, and also discouragement and disappointment. But above all, I have enormous respect for myself and all who embark on the creative train and stick with it to its destination.

 

~THE END*~

*Not really

THAT THING CALLED “AUTHOR PLATFORM”

 

plat·form

/ˈplatˌfôrm/

noun

1.      a raised level surface on which people or things can stand.

"there are viewing platforms where visitors may gape at the chasm"

 

2.      the declared policy of a political party or group.

"seeking election on a platform of low taxes"

 

Well, then.

 

Authors, it is said, need a platform. In authorly terms this means expertise that is already recognized as such by (preferably) a goodly number of people. It’s that thing that makes for a virtual “raised level” on which the author stands above the minions.

Turns out, it is less relevant (some say not relevant) for writers of fiction. It is essential for non-fiction, as a sort of Bona fide to be writing on a subject. In fiction, personal experience of the sort the plot conveys would serve the same function, and the platform in either case is an established public identity that attests to such and is known and followed by many.

 

I like this post because of its original title (later changed by Jane Friedman): “I’D RATHER BE WRITING.”

That, precisely.

 

I know a prolific and competent writer (of YA fiction) who had grown her blog to have thousands of followers and same for her Instagram account, who has all but abandoned both.

 

She’d rather be writing, and her platform never sold her books. Her books sold her books.

 

Adding: most good writers are not great marketers. This is what traditional publishers are supposed to be and do.

 

A writer should do what they can, and most of that consists of writing and writing better.

Signed,

Platformless Me

HOME IMPROVEMENTS, ANYONE?

 How do you deal with the (frankly endless) home improvement challenges?

Warning, this is one big (pictorial) KVETCH.

So, once upon a time it was thus:

Same kitchen corner, now:

May it (soon) return to sanity, our style~~~

August 19th, 2024

Edited to add:

What a difference a week makes⌛:

🎉🎉🎉

JUST. DO. IT.

 Yup. That^

I have friends who talked about writing. Not about “being a writer” but about the specific stories they were going to write.

 

They talked and elaborated. They considered some of the details they’d include. They deliberated about what point of view to use, where to set it, and how to end.

 

Once, I got a breathless call because my friend with a story to tell just had an epiphany regarding the story. It wouldn’t be a straight-out story, but a fable, using animals. This wasn’t for children, but an allegory à la Orwell’s Animal House.

“Great,” I said. “Now start writing.”

 

Another friend said her book required the permission of someone mentioned in it, though that someone was but a minor character that could be omitted if permission wasn’t granted.

“Great,” I said. “Now start writing.”

 

A third friend let me know he was bogged down with research on some of his story’s elements. It could take weeks or months to complete his self-assigned reading.

“Great,” I said. “When will you start writing?”

 

To the best of my knowledge, none have so much as written the first sentence.

 

I never talk about my stories until after I completed the second draft. Talking (and talking, and more talking) releases the creative gasses that float the writing balloon. Then, the impetus to sit and write evaporates and becomes the sad spectacle of a deflated balloon lying on its side, abandoned where no one, not even the would-be writer, would ever see it.

WHAT MAKES A GREAT STORY?

 

The answer, my friends, is blowing in the wind. Because it depends on who you ask.

So, what makes a truly great story?

For many, it’s a tight plot with twists and turns, and an ending that ties loose ends.

For some, it’s a layered meaning that takes them to places they wouldn’t have gone otherwise.

For a few, it’s asking good questions that don’t get answered, but leave them thinking.

So, yeah. It depends.

 

For me, a great story opens a portal to greater understanding of my place while I navigate this life. I sort of named it “value.” A really great story has value much beyond momentary entertainment or distraction.

 

A great story asks something of me, and in return leaves me richer, the kind of riches money can’t buy. The last great story I read was Wallace Stegner’s Angle of Repose. I didn't read it until eight years ago, many years after it was published and won the Pulitzer Prize. 

I’ve read many very good stories since. But great? That’s a rarity.

I’ve written what some have called good stories. I hope they are. I still hope to write a great story before I check out.

To Have or Not to Have THE BOOK PARTY?

 

I see this question on writers group chats. Should I have a book launch party? Where? How? Is it a must?

 

I really like this post by Liz Alterman. It tells of her personal experience of this very matter.

 

Let’s face it: unless you have written on a very hot topic and are a known expert on same, or you are already an established author for fiction, your book event will not draw a crowd of strangers. Your audience will be largely made of supportive friends who want to celebrate with you, a very nice thing. This, too, makes a book feel “launched.”

 

 

But there will be a few new faces, and each is a possible future friend. This, at least, has been my experience.

If the very idea of throwing a party where no one comes gives you night sweats, know that you don’t have to have book events. Many writers are not natural partiers. It’s okay either way.

 

Speaking for myself, I hope to have more books published. Parties will depend on what/where/when. I did like my previous events after I had done them and saw, as the book of Genesis says, that it was good.

THE BLACK HOLE OF EMAIL-VERSE

 

Email changed many things. The word mail shouldn’t be confused with the mail of yore.

 

For one, email is supposedly delivered in seconds. This means that not getting a reply for many days (think--more than ten) can feel like an insult, specifically with personal emails.

 

Email goes into the ether and, without a physical presence, depends on some form of acknowledgement of receipt. In personal email, this means a reply. In business, it can be an auto-receipt. Without either, it’s in the who-knows-if cloud.

 

The other day, my email program let me know two personal emails bounced for some technical reason. I re-sent them, and they didn’t get a “bounce” message the second time. Later, both friends asked me why I had sent twice, as they got it the first time.

 

At the mercy of this non-physical world, I could only mumble something about the bounce notifications having to do with some protocol/permissions that someone somewhere on the interwebs explained in terms neither I nor my friends understand.

 

Marvelous thing, this email business. But I confess I feel helpless sometimes when I can’t understand or imagine its path to my dear ones or the professionals I am dealing with.

 

The mystery of carrier pigeons is, at least, something the mind’s eye can envision. Ditto for physical mail.

 

But email remains a black hole. It swallows, and when it works, it spits out.

If You Think It— It Be REAL

 

Up until the age of seven or eight, I believed that if I thought something up in my imagination, it became real.

 

A fine example was The Mickey Mouse Affair. I was five years old when I told my best friend that I had a “real Mickey, round black ears and all.”

“Where?” she asked.

“He’s under my bed and only comes out at night after everyone goes to sleep.” I said.

My friend wanted one also. She told her parents, who then summoned me so I can admit I made it up. I insisted my Mickey was real.

It wasn’t that I didn’t know I had thought this up, or that I was embarrassed about fibbing and didn’t want to admit it. I knew I thought him, and also was convinced that now he was real.

 

Kids. This is part of the magical age.

 

Most people outgrow this, or channel it only into the creative arts. A sad and bad scenario for those who don’t grow up is when they apply this to politics.

 

Today, I use my imagination to write fiction, which, as far as I’m concerned, becomes real in its way.

©Carina Povarchik

ONE NATION UNDER GOD

 

With the United States approaching another birthday, (our 248^th) I got to thinking this line from the Pledge of Allegiance, which in its current form is only seventy years old. (More about this pledge’s history is here.)

 

“One nation, under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.”

 

The reality is that our nation is in fact more than one nation, if you subscribe to the notion of it being divided by many distinctive and legally sovereign states.

 

In reality, plenty of our nationals don’t see God’s presence at all.

 

Liberty is relative, with one percent of US citizens in prison, not all of them justly. The liberty of the rest is curtailed in many ways, not all of them wisely.

 

Justice: oh, dear. Justice, especially “for all,” is elusive. Not that other nations do better. But justice for all on this earth has yet to manifest here or anywhere.

 

And then it hit me: this pledge is less a statement of how it is. and more an aspiration of how it should be.

 

Let us wish it, and strive for it, and maybe get ever closer. I can pledge my allegiance to this as an aspiration, without reservation.

Happy Birthday USA

WHEN AN EYE FOR AN EYE LEAVES EVERYONE BLIND

 

A dear friend of mine was hurt, badly hurt, by the actions of colleagues who should have had her back.

At the same time, she was going through challenging family health issues, seemingly unrelated.

 

Her professional injuries were doozies. Her personal challenges were met with courage and steadfastness. She was too busy to think how to respond to her colleagues’ betrayal. There were other things to face and no room to digest their treachery. 

 

But once she came up for air, she, a gifted writer, devised a literary revenge of sorts. She would write a fictional novel about what happened.

 

She enlisted my help in brainstorming the characters and the style she might take. She was on fire, feeling creative and alive again. Ideas were pouring out. “What do you think about this?” and “I just thought about that” came pinging over the transom in rapid pace.

 

I was happy she was finding herself again. Writers process and digest through stories.

 

I was less sure about the vengefulness I felt gushing out of her.

 

I thought about the times I was done wrong. I didn’t want to hurt those who did it, but I did entertain thoughts of how, somehow, they’d be hurt and know how it feels.

 

I thought about how real healing has come to me. Only when I truly began to wish well for the ones who made themselves my (or my people’s) enemies, and gone to do us harm, did I find peace.

 

Real healing requires nothing less. An eye for an eye leaves everyone blind.

PEACE.

TREASURES on the Way to the PARTY

 

The longer I live on this earth, the more I realize that it’s the way to, rather than the end point, which is the real deal.

 

From recent life of me and mine, I watch as--

*The adventure of brewing beer is not the drinking but the process of making the thing. Both complex and interesting. [I was an observer on both ends]

*Painting a portrait~ finding out a face is so much more than the “seen.” [Ditto about being an observer]

*The first drafting of a novel~ Learning so much about what I never knew I didn’t know~ Interesting is too mild a word for it.

*Navigating a nature trail~ who cares if we ever get there and what is “there,” anyway?

 

These got me thinking about all the things discovered accidentally, on the way to a different destination. Their discovery stories are linked below--

Penicillin, Teflon, pacemakers, X-rays and the microwaves are famous examples. But also, Quinine, Velcro and potato chips… Ah, well. What did we ever do before the latter?

 

So, chipping away here to the next adventure. Nothing is wasted. The roads are littered with treasures. The party is the hike itself.