Saturday, June 04, 2005

Children Read for Story, Not the Author

Children are wonderful because they are completely independent readers. A child would not read a book because it was written by a "great writer" —a man with great authority. The fact that Shakespeare has written it will not impress a child‑the child will look over the story by himself and see if he likes it or not. You cannot impress a child by criticism. You cannot say, "This is a wonderful book because such and such critic has said it's wonderful." A child doesn't care about the critics, because the child himself is a critic. A child will not read a book because it was advertised in a very big way. He is actually a more independent reader than the adult, who is impressed by authorities, criticism, and big advertisements in the New York Times or on television. It's harder to fool children than to fool adults when it comes to literature.

from Conversations with Isaac Bashevis Singer

Friday, June 03, 2005

Novel: Due East

NOVEL: Due East by Valerie Sayers ****

Sometime in the early 90's I stumbled across HOW I GOT HIM BACK by Valerie Sayers at a used bookstore. I loved her mythical town, Due East, and its characters and searched for her other books. Her first novel (DUE EAST) was no longer in print and although I searched through used stores and wrote to several others, I could not find it. I did find four later novels (THE DISTANCE BETWEEN US, WHO DO YOU LOVE, and BRAIN FEVER), which also took place in the town of Due East. I enjoyed them tremendously.

Recently a made for SHOWTIME movie titled DUE EAST was advertised so I watched it with great anticipation. Although the movie was mediocre, I remembered I had never found the first novel, DUE EAST, by Sayers. Of course, now with half.com and alibris.com, out of print books are easy to find and within minutes I ordered DUE EAST.

The protagonist is Mary Faith Rapple, a pregnant 15 year old. Her mother died of cancer and the baby's father from an overdose of tranquilizers; and her own father is distant and preoccupied. Initially she clings to a virgin birth theory when talking to her dad and is determined to have her baby.

The character of Mary Faith Rapple is skillfully drawn with a wry sensitivity and innocence. The chapters alternate between the first person narrative of Mary Faith and the first person narrative of her dad until the last chapter, which is in third person. The town of Due East, with all its eccentricities, is all that I remember it to be, with the strong undercurrents of faith, sex, and the rejection of faith expected of a damn good southern novel.

My favorite line comes from when Mary Faith and her father go to church:
"All around me I could feel the electric buzz that Dr. Beady set off when he began to speak. In a few minutes, people would drift away, would stop listening to him, but for now, he had them; he had them lined up naked with their legs spread apart and they were trying to shield themselves. He loved those words sin and sinner: he sloshed them around in his mouth like wine and then spat them out, all over the congregation."

Thursday, June 02, 2005

Adverb Recognition

Got to thinking. To edit unessential adverbs, we have to first be able to recognize them.

On adverb recognition--nothing you don't already know. After I typed this explanation, I decided it may be too much for your newsletter--probably even boring to most readers. But for whatever . . . .

Just because a word ends in -ly doesn't mean it's an adverb; for instance, the friendly youngster met the crew at the door. But the -ly can be considered a signal. When we see the signal, we must confirm our suspicion that the word ending in the suffix is an adverb.

A grammarian might explain modification, but a nongrammarian may consider an adverb's position in the sentence. If the word ending in the suffix can be relocated without changing meaning, it is an adverb. Although adverbs usually have places they sound and work best in sentences, adverbs are like gypsies--transient.

For example: The couple in the booth appeared to be arguing passionately. Passionately the couple in the booth appeared to be arguing. The couple in the booth passionately appeared to be arguing. The couple in the booth appeared to be passionately arguing.

Adverbs can even split infinitives: The couple in the booth appeared to passionately be arguing.

By the way, in addition to single words, adverbs can be phrases, in which case we can't rely on the -ly signal. But we can ask questions--such as where and when--to test the phrase. Consider the prepositional phrase in the following sentence: In the woods by the edge of the pond, the whipperwills called. "In the woods" not only can be relocated but it also tells where the whipperwills called; thus, the phrase is adverbial. Unlike the adverbial phrase, "by the edge of the pond" answers the adjectival question "which ones," or "which woods"; the phrase is an adjective and should remain next to the adverb, which it modifies.

from Joy Bagley, Night Writers member and WNCWriters Director, on adverbs.

Wednesday, June 01, 2005

Attacked or Unnoticed

I would rather be attacked than unnoticed. For the worst think you can do to an author is to be silent as to his works.

Quote from Boswell's LIFE OF JOHNSON

Tuesday, May 31, 2005

The Novel is No Longer Essential

The novel has been dwindling since the end of the 19th century, because of one inescapable fact, which is that it is no longer as essential to people’s cultural lives as it used to be. The movies replaced it, certainly, and television. Novelists have lost the sense that we make a difference." Norman Mailer

Monday, May 30, 2005

Southern Writers

I've been influenced by a lot of the Southern writers for their connection to the physical world, and their enslavement to it.

The Writer's Chronicle, May/Summer 2002
An Interview with Jayne Anne Phillips by Sarah Anne Johnson

Sunday, May 29, 2005

The Zest of Good Storytelling

Stories teach by example, and by permitting us to safely participate in crises we hope to never get near. Quotidian life seldom offers opportunities for glorious heroism or grand agonies of defeat, but fictional entertainments offer those opportunities in abundance. Handbooks on fiction-writing persistently point out that at the climax of the plot the principal characters ought to be confronted with a choice that will be definitive, both in terms of the burgeoning chaos around them and in terms of their own psychologies. Often these are moments of personal reform and redemption, even of metamorphosis, as the hero goes against fate, against his or her upbringing, and becomes wholly different, new. Ethical grayness characterizes much of our human experience; and we change only incrementally, through a host of seemingly inconsequential decisions. The zest of good storytelling comes from its gross exaggeration of the frightening and mysterious process of change, so that we see heightened in THE ENGLISH PATIENT or SCHINDLER'S LIST the horrifying possibilities of wrong choices and the health to ourselves and others in choosing rightly.

from A STAY AGAINST CONFUSION by Ron Hansen