Showing posts with label J.K. Rowling. Show all posts
Showing posts with label J.K. Rowling. Show all posts

Tuesday, November 29, 2016

Deus Ex Machina*

*a.k.a. G_d from the machine


There’s a literary plot device known in Latin as deus ex machina. Originally from the Greek apò mēkhanês theós, and used in Greek plays, we have many examples from Judeo-Christian stories. I’m thinking of the biblical story of Job, where the philosophical discussion and events are resolved by the appearance of G_d from the whirlwind, and all is resolved and restored. It is not resolved by the main character, nor by any of the other characters’ actions. In fact, that is the very point the book of Job is making.
In literary analysis this has come to stand not so much for divine intervention as for the addition of an unexpected event or character not organically coming out of the story. Such things do, in fact, happen in real life. But in modern storytelling, where the heroism depends on humans conquering life’s obstacles, it often feels contrived and unsatisfying.


In the how-to circles  it's a no-no. If I read or heard it once, I have heard it many times. We don’t do it anymore.

Oh, really?

I suggest we do use it, and use it everywhere. This is where fantasy comes in. A whole genre devoted to coming up with world building rules that zig-zag between life as we know it and fantastic elements popping in conveniently to work their magic
You need the main character to get in somewhere where they can’t possibly? — Introduce, and then give ‘em, an invisibility cloak. Voila! Harry Potter, anyone? Why didn't we know about this magical invisibility thingy all along? Because we just needed it now, silly.

The same for magical realism, a genre I am partial to as a reader and a writer. Think of the uses of time-travel, not in the form of scholarly research, but a device where the main character actually gets to hop in a few centuries back and even retrieve a long-lost object.


Deus ex machina hasn’t gone away. If anything, it is used more than ever. We just have other names for it.



Tuesday, October 13, 2015

Recognition & Success

Or—
Where is the reality in recognition and success?

In 1915 Charlie Chaplin entered a Charlie Chaplin lookalike contest in San Francisco. Not only did he not win, he failed to even make the finals.

©2013 From the Norton Book of Facts to Blow Your Socks Off






There have been experiments of writers submitting classics or Pulitzer winning manuscripts of others to editors, to see if they will be recognized, requested as originals, or rejected. They were rejected with personal comments that indicated they had merit, but were “not quite ready.”

J. K. Rowling’s own experiment with making it both critically and commercially without her established name nearly failed miserably. Her editor, who knew the real identity of one “Robert Galbraith,” was happy to take The Cuckoo’s Calling. But the public was less impressed, and the sales were lower than others for the genre. It was rescued by a leak of the real identity of her authorship, and rose to the rare stratosphere of mega bestsellers.

This is what I gather from our infatuation with brands: the next time anyone suggests that worldly success or failure is an indication of intrinsic worth, I can safely and assuredly ignore their assertion. But there may be many more lessons in there that I am missing.
 What do you make of it?

Onwards, to do good work.

Tuesday, March 11, 2014

Let’s Re-name Middle Grade Novels


DF: “You look so happy, almost glowing.”

Me: “Well, I have a reason. I just finished the first draft of my very first middle grade novel. I didn’t know I could write anything of that length and take it to the finish line.”

DF: (after a long silence, looking perplexed) “Why would you write a so-so novel? Why not write a good one?”

A few years ago I had this very conversation with a dear friend who, one will rightly surmise, is not a writer. She could not fathom such joy at having completed something of middle-grade when one should have at least attempted a finer grade.



I have since seen this confusion in places and people I thought knew this publishing industry term. Is middle grade meant for middle school? (No, middle school years are 6-8 grade, or 11-14 year olds.) Is middle grade just the younger end of young adult? (Not really, though overlap is natural in literature.) Is middle grade the same as chapter books? (Fifty years ago it would have been. Now chapter books are shorter, meant for second and third graders, and precede the reading of novels. But middle grade novels often have chapters, as do novels for all ages.)

And the worst of all- are middle grade novels just the not-so-good, genre formula fiction, sold in the supermarket? (Well, some qualify. But this is not what “MG = middle grade,” as a category in publishing, refers to. Not even a little.)

The short answer is that middle grade books are aimed at ages 8-12, or grades 3-6, once “the middle grades” when elementary school went from first to eighth grade.


And middle grade novels are the first real novels children will read. The Newbery committee honors the finest children’s literary middle grade novels. They can be as short as 20,000 words and as long as 80,000, Harry Potter and other outliers on both ends not withstanding.

My published novel for middle grades is at the shorter end of this spectrum. The first draft I finished that day went on to have many revisions, and, after being published, it even won and award. The Moonbeam Children's Book Awards called the category “Pre-Teen.” Not a mention of “middle grade.” Awards are for good books, not so-so ones.

I like pre-teen. I think the choice of wording is perfect: descriptive, informative, and less likely to be misunderstood.

Tuesday, March 4, 2014

Trashing the Successful

Now that the brouhaha has worn out its welcome, I feel like reflecting on our unfortunate tendency to go on the abusive mode towards those who have been successful.

I wish I could recall who said this: “Jealousy is when you wished you had what someone else has. Envy is when you wish you had what someone else has, and you don’t want them to have it.”

This fits with the notion that envy may be the root of all wars.

When it comes to people who succeeded beyond anyone’s wildest dreams, we see the backlash coming. It’s not enough that we haven’t, they shouldn't have, either.

Envy may be green, but it isn't pretty.
©Shelagh Duffett

The sad thing is that every writer alive has had these fleeting feelings. If you haven’t wondered how J. K. Rowling did it, you are not honest with yourself. Most of us know these feelings are wrong-headed, and most of us don’t think this way. We may feel frustrated, but we don’t rationalize it.

After Lynn Shepherd’s post imploring Rowling to stop publishing appeared, a mini backlash in the form of retaliatory one-star reviews of Ms. Shepherd’s published books appeared on review sites. Seems her maladious stream is infectious. Those posts, too, were a sad testimony to our spiritual failure.

Like Rowling, Shepherd is a very good writer. There was no need for such smallness.

Lynn Shepherd’s third mistake, after putting outright silly statements about writing for children being an inferior art form and making any sort of statement about books she admits to not have read, was to conjure a world where someone else’s great success has robbed her of her own. In that world there are a finite number of gold coins and someone else has taken hers.
Not in my experience. Let’s get off the bandwagon of vilifying our planets’ most successful citizens. 

Tuesday, July 30, 2013

Is the Cuckoo Calling, or Was It the Kookiness of Us?

Apparently the book scans sale numbers for The Cuckoo’s Calling were all of five hundred sales in the U.S.A. despite very strong reviews. The international numbers were 1,500 total. It would not have even gone to paperback from this major publisher. A smaller publisher would have viewed the 1,500 number less critically, but this is one of the now Big Five.

 J. K. Rowling protested that she was in no way behind this revelation, exposing this Robert Galbraith debut as her own, admittedly a debut for her in the genre of detective novels. I have good reason to think her publisher, however, most likely was behind the revelation. She may not need the money, (though her ego is another factor) but Little Brown & Company would not, ever, pass an opportunity for mega-sales when it is just right there for the taking.


 I doubt that without the pen-name-then-revelation strategy the sales (now) or the reviews (then) would have been as good as they are. So it is very possible this was a plan from the get-go. Someone will no doubt write a book (or two or three) about this when some who colluded will talk about it. 
I find that in the kid-lit community, those who adore her Harry Potter books and idolize Rowling, believe her official pronouncements of innocence, and of seeking liberation from her brand name, while the rest find it depressing that it is so advantageous to be a brand-name when it comes to sales, even of a well-reviewed book.

 To end on an upbeat note, I’ll start with the bad news we garner from this affair:
 First, The thinking of a writer as a brand. (“They can only write XYZ)
Second, the holding a debut to a different standard when reviewing. (As if the debut author has not been writing for ions before they got a book accepted for publication; they are not new to writing, only publishing.)
Finally, the mega-sales, (it’s No #1 or close to now)  all because of the writer’s name and the story-behind-the-story.
Three times questionable thinking…. When will we ever learn? Never. 
But I find a bright spot in this sort of exposé.  I am chuckling, and dreaming up possibilities.  A talented author got to write what she wanted to write, and the world has one more good detective story. This is a two times cause for celebration.