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Showing posts with label Reading. Show all posts

A Christmas Of Thoughts

I'm so sorry I haven't blogged for the last two weeks! Normally I'm very good about it, but with the holiday season and all the hoopla, just haven't had the time or energy. But I'm back!

This Christmas brought to me a bevy of thoughts, both on my Real Life and my Writing Process. Really, I was attacked by them all. It made it hard to concentrate on my work, but I knew I had to address some of them before getting back to Life. If I didn't, things would only get worse, and I didn't want to risk getting too incapacitated to write at all.

My husband and I have decided to sell our 3 bedroom, 2 bath, 1,400 square feet home and move to an apartment near the end of spring. This house is just too big for the two of us, and old enough to have problems. Unforeseen repairs depleted our Christmas Savings, and I'm just too damn lazy to keep a house this big clean. I'm still a teen at heart, why do you think I write for Young Adults?



Why Ban the Damn Book?

As many of you probably already know, this is Banned Book Week. I realize many of you will come across hundreds if not thousands of blogs from authors, librarians, booksellers and readers about the injustice of attempted bannings across America. And no doubt articles from newspapers, magazines, political and social conservatives tearing down the practice of taking one week out of each year to bring to the nations attention that book banning is no longer a thing of the past.

As an aspiring writer and avid reader, it should come as no surprise that I support Banned Book Week. It saddens me that people, and it seems it's mainly parents, feel that any book, any story, would be not only be unfit for their childrens minds, but for ANY children. You see, the majority of books people ask to have removed from library shelves are young adult genres, books meant for middle and high schoolers. Often the books that are challenged are due to sexual content and drug abuse, but they run the gammut from offensive language, homosexuality, religious and or political viewpoints, violence, and racism. Ready to start challenging books? WAIT.

Has it not occurred to some of these book banners that these stories can actually HELP young adults overcome some of the obstacles of life? Take for instance Crank, by Ellen Hopkins. A story loosely based on her OWN DAUGHTERS emergence into drugs, prostitution to get money for those drugs, rape and pregnancy. This is not a pretty thing. Yes, there is sex and drugs, but this is a cautionary tale. And I took that warning. I had friends in high school that were into drugs, some more than others. I never felt comfortable talking with my parents about either subject, and I'd considered experimenting in both, partly to see what if felt like and partly to be 'cool'. I did neither, because of Crank. It scared, and pardon my language, the ever living crap out of me. The truth of what could happen to me if I even toyed with drugs or sex horrified me. I even hit one of my closer friends for asking me if I wanted to join them at her house for some 'dope shit' as she called it.

Quite frankly, my story is lame compared to some of the letters Mrs. Hopkins (sorry if I got the salutation wrong) has received over the years. She has cited letters from girls in the SAME POSITION as she'd written. And it had given them HOPE. All her books portray the horrors of real life, lessons for children to learn if they are not in those positions. They are hard, gritty, and even for me sometimes difficult to read. But they are also good, they teach and show, and they make readers grow as people. So yes, maybe you can speak openly, candidly with your children about the horrors of drugs and sex, but there are so many others who can't. YOU ARE NOT THE ENTIRE SCHOOL'S / LIBRARY'S PARENT. My mother wrote a letter to my lunch ladies telling them I could only have the meal and nothing from the snack line. She knew them by sight and name. This isn't hard to do, people. Most schools now have swipe/ scan ID cards, and mine was able to block certain things. Like the yummy snack line.

Another thing I don't understand is the banning of positive portrayals of homosexuality, political or religious viewpoints, etc. These are VIEWS, I've not read one book that demands I subscribe to their beliefs. Instead they make me THINK. And thinking is good, last time I heard. Because of all the books I've read, including as a child, middle school and high school student, I've developed a strong self awareness. I know my strengths, and accept my weaknesses even as I try and better myself. And realize that while your protection may actually keep them from harm as children or teens, when they become adults, go off to college, get jobs and move away from you, they will face the real world, and you may have crippled their ability to navigate its tough waters. If you do not believe that will be the case with your own children, then good for you. But remember, not all kids have such great parents as you, and you may be damning them to a harsher existence without the aide and hope the books most commonly challenged could give them.

My main problem with the idea of Banning or Challenging books is the idea of INTOLERANCE at the heart. My life motto "Tolerate everything but Intolerance." An oxymoron? No, not in my mind. I could hate everything a person has to say, but I will not confront them unless they have proven themselves ignorant or intolerant. By intolerance, I mean they refuse to allow whatever they fear or dislike enter their sphere of life in any way. I give you an example:

If you were at an art gallery, and your friend was browsing, looking for a painting to buy, what would you do? Look around, of course. If there are many artists on display, you will have your opinion, those pieces you like and those you don't. Your friend has found and fallen in love with, oh, lets say this painting, Soft Construction with Boiled Beans (Premonition of Civil War), 1936 by Salvador Dali. You hate it. You can't stand it. But your friend loves it. Would you tell them "I hate it, I can't stand it. Its gross, who would want that in their home? They should ban it." No, you probably wouldn't. If you did, frankly you're not much of a friend. But they ask your opinion. Myself, I would say something to the effect of "Its a great mastery of paint, the sky quite well done and realistic. I like the fluidity, the surreal form against the soft, seemingly abstract background. I personally don't like the subject, a little too vulgar for my taste, but I can RESPECT THE ARTIST AND THOSE WHO LOVE HIS WORK."

See what I did there? I gave it credit, I respected the work, and I can appreciate the mastery of the technique. I don't like much of Dali's work myself, but I would never say I hate it and it should be banned. Why? Its a different way of looking at life, a different perspective. I've been in that position, with a print (not that one) of Dali's work a friend so dearly wanted. I was excited for her, not because I liked the painting but because she did. That is what's important. I let her have her opinion and did not think less of her when it didn't coincide with mine.

As in art, so in books.

There should be no reason for intolerance, with books especially. Closed, they cannot speak to those who do not pick them up and open them. If you don't want your kids reading something, fine. But don't force your ideals on other children. A better understanding of sexual orientation, race, political and religious beliefs can lead to greater understanding between everyone. Offensive language? Trust me, your child has heard worse than anything written in YA books. Sex? Your kids know more about it than maybe you do. Kids talk about 'taboo' subjects because you don't want them to, and they're curious. Seriously? Books are not the root of teen pregnancies, shoplifting, drug usage. If you want to stop those things from entering your kids minds, look at what they watch on TV (Gossip Girl?) and the games their playing (Grand Theft Auto anyone?).*

Most of all I just want to know why. Why? Why ban a book entirely from the presence of people who would read and learn from them, whether the author intended a lesson or no? Why is any book so wrong for anyone to read? Some have argued that a book may have been removed from the shelf of one library, but is available in another. So? You have now marked that book for more bans. Just because the government no longer bans books does not mean its not a problem anymore. You are claiming yourself above the ideas in the book, and you are not. No one is above an idea. No one.

Often I see cases where news anchors and advocates of banning books point out the word *fuck* appears 17 times in a book, that sex is described, etc. They fail to put those things in context to the story written around them. Why? Because they don't want to admit those things are valid. That sex may be rape. *Fuck* may have been said by a parent in the story. Let each parent make their own decision, and keep yours to yourself, please, especially if you want to go on a tirade. Because anyways, if you push and/ or succeed in a banning, it only brings whatever book you banned into the public eye, and curious people who may not have read it will do so.

In conclusion, I ask again.

Why Ban the Damn Book?

*Gossip Girl and Grand Theft Auto are fine in my opinion, so long as you TALK WITH YOUR KIDS ABOUT THE CONTENT. Just like with books.



When NOT to Read a Polished Manuscript

Andrea at MiG Writers made a very good point in yesterdays blog. However proud you are of a finished, polished novel you've written, refrain from reading it when you're working on a new first draft.


Makes sense, right? Why read a great piece of your own work when you're just getting the idea of a new one out? Its rough, basic, and not anywhere near the great writing you're capable of. So why taunt yourself with a finished work? It's likely you (and I) would see this fabulous writing and look at the new WIP, and go, "This first one was a fluke, I'm no good." I know I would give up.

But I think this thinking is so obvious, many wouldn't actually think it. Granted, it could be a great motivation to get through the next WIP, but it also has the equal potential to bring you down. Be careful about the decision to reread a finished manuscript of your own writing, and be honest with yourself about the effect it may have on you, and your current work. If the answer is truthful, and you are confident in it, then follow the course you choose.



Apparently I Write Like a Girl

Some things writers have to deal with just seem baffling. This is a blog by Bev Vincent and a prime example.

Apparently I Write Like a Girl

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Girl Down - A Short Story

“Hmm. Cabernet or Chianti?” I can’t decide. I know Steve loves Chianti, but its not my favorite - not even close. And we had it last week, so... Cabernet it is!

I love shopping at Gucci HEB. Well, its really called HEB Central Market, but when me, my twin sister Blaire and best friend Lindsay walked in our sophomore year of high school, it somehow felt to us like a couture store. There were all these gorgeous women in amazing suits and dresses picking out the best wine for dinner that night, or what bread smelled the freshest. One was debating with the butcher on which cuts of meat to buy, and she reminded me of the old-fashioned housemothers that were very well versed in things like that. Overall, it became a symbol of success for the three of us, a place were we all wanted to shop at all the time when we became rich and fabulous and could actually afford to shop at stores like Gucci.

Is that my phone? Ugh, I have got to change that ringtone. Sarah? She was supposed to be in the country with her man.

“The fucking bastard has a GIRLFRIEND!!!! For two fucking years!!! And you know what else? She’s five months PREGNANT!!!”

“No.”

“Yes! I can’t fucking believe it!” Sarah loves the word fuck when she’s pissed.

“Where are you.”

“At home.”

“Your apartment or your moms?”

“My apartment. Mom is in Colorado visiting her parents.”

“I’m on my way.”

I dump out the contents of my handcart in the refrigerated beer section, grab another bottle of Cabernet and two of Chardonnay and head over to the frozen section for pizza and those breaded, deep-fried cream cheese filled jalapeño poppers, then off to the bakery for cheese cakes, all the while calling the rest of the Calvary.

Here’s the thing about the Cavalry. We’ve been the closest of friends as early as middle school and as late as seniors in college. It started with me, Blaire, and Lindsay, writing notes with those cool colored gel pens on black paper, and it sort of just grew from there. We get together every month to catch up, gossip, and bitch. When one of us hit’s a rough patch, we all work together to get her out and back in the game. And for something like this, every one of us drops as much as we can to support her.

Dashing off to the twenty or less registers, I finish off a call to Sydney, who will make it in two hours after she gets out of a presentation. It’s a good thing I have the day off, or else she would be alone until one of us got off work. I pick up speed as I see a woman laden with three kids screaming for sweets headed towards the register and practically throw the frozen pizza at the cashier.

“Party tonight?” Is he flirting with me?

“Is it invite only, or is anyone allowed?” A wink? Ok, he needs to be shut down, and fast.

“My best friend ditched a guy she really liked not ten minutes ago because she just happened to find out that he had a serious girlfriend of two years who is five months pregnant.”

“Oooooh. Yeah, I’ll take a rain check.”

“You never had a check to begin with.” I flash my wedding ring and give him an apologetic smile as I swipe my card. “Sorry, but when one of my girls is down, everything else is on hold until she’s functional.”

“Wow. That’s kinda cool. You have a good day.” How is that possible with a girl in hysterics?

“Thank you.”

I rush to my car, throw my purchases in the passenger seat and gun it toward Sarah’s apartment complex. As I pull out of the parking lot of Gucci HEB I continue with the calls. I can’t get a hold of Elsie, so I switch to text, marking them urgent. She calls right when I turn onto the street that Sarah’s apartment is on.

“I’m just down the block, I was on my way back to the office. Its no biggie, I was on an audit and the company was surprisingly prepared and efficient.”

“I got goodies. It seems like its gonna be a long one.” I hang up and punch in the code to open the gate of the apartment complex and we park by Sarah’s car.

“Shit yeah. I wonder how far she is on the voodoo doll.” Elsie grabs the bottles of wine and I get the rest. Climbing up the stairs to her door, I fumble for my emergency key and unlock the bolt and doorknob in one smooth motion, shoving the door open in the process.

And there, in the middle of her living room surrounded by all the gifts, pictures, and memorabilia of her time with the ass fuck, is our girl Sarah. Dressed in tattered sweats and her hair a birds nest, she looks up at us with puffy eyes red with tears of rage and sadness. We haven’t seen her so thoroughly wrecked since the new years party our freshman year of college, when she learned how to play beer pong very, very badly. In front of her, she already had a voodoo doll dressed with a pin stuck in the genital area.

This was bad.

“Oh, honey.”