A Fantasy/Sci-Fi blog is giving away two sets of Auralia’s Colors (via Jeffrey Overstreet)
The Scarecrow, by Michael Connelly
For a few years, mystery novelist Michael Connelly’s books bounced back and forth between two recurring main characters—Los Angeles detective Harry Bosch, and Terry McCaleb, retired FBI profiler. Sometimes both at once. But Connelly killed McCaleb off a few books back, and since then he seems to be casting about for a new regular series, mixing and matching characters in various combinations.
The Scarecrow appears to be an attempt to re-launch the adventures of crime reporter Jack McEvoy and FBI profiler Rachel Walling. They teamed up (as investigators and lovers) in a much earlier novel, The Poet, and Rachel also featured in a recent Harry Bosch book. But Connelly here drops big hints that he’s carving out a future for them as a team.
I applaud this, but wish they could have been re-launched in a slightly better book. Not that The Scarecrow is bad. It moves right along, and builds tension nicely, but I wouldn’t list it among Connelly’s best works. Of course, that’s a pretty high bar. Continue reading The Scarecrow, by Michael Connelly
Old Spice is Manly
I must share this commercial. You may have seen it already. Apparently over 700,000 have watched it on YouTube. If I didn’t already love using Old Spice, this ad would make me consider trying it.
The negative way
Loren Eaton, at I Saw Lightning Fall, writes today about the Via Negativa. That’s the technique of telling a moral story through depicting vice, and revealing its destructive effects.
Uncle Tom’s Cabin, if I understand the concept correctly, was largely (not wholly) a Via Negativa story, in that it denounced slavery by examining slavery (it was also a Via Positiva story, in that it showcased the exemplary life of the main character).
When I was a boy, a teetotal relative gave me a copy of the book, Ten Nights in a Bar-Room. This was an 1854 novel, written by T. S. Arthur, in the form of a series of reminiscences by a man who stayed (at infrequent intervals) at a particular inn where liquor was served. By showing the gradual deterioration of the inn, the family that ran it, and the community it influenced, he argued for the prohibition of alcohol. It was a very influential book in its time, and a pure example of Via Negativa.
I often think of a particular scene my own The Year of the Warrior—if you’ve read it, you’ll probably recall the Great Summer Sacrifice scene. I used it to try to express all the horror which (I firmly believe) lurks behind true heathenism (as opposed to the pasteurized, humanist version generally promoted in the West today). No one has ever complained to me about the scene that I recall, but frankly it bothers me. I think I went a little too far, and if I had it to write over, I’d probably do it slightly differently.
I recall a particular novel published in the Christian market (and no, I won’t tell you which one it was), in which the author tried to do something similar, and I felt he’d crossed a line. Maybe I was wrong (the book certainly sold more copies than any of mine, and to a Christian audience). But I know there’s a danger here.
Loren’s article speaks of one danger of the Via Negativa—that the audience will miss the message, and root for the wrong side. I think there’s further danger—that the author will look into the abyss, and find the abyss looking back into him.
In my estimation (and maybe I misunderstand entirely) I thought novelist Thomas Harris succumbed to this temptation to some extent in dealing with his charismatic villain, Hannibal Lector. When Lector first appeared in Red Dragon, and when he reappeared in The Silence of the Lambs, Harris was able to keep his balance, getting deep into the psyche of the villain, but never taking his side. But in the follow-up novel, Hannibal, it seemed to me he lost his bearings, and began to delight, to some extent, in Lector’s atrocities. I never even looked at Hannibal Rising.
That doesn’t make the Via Negativa too dangerous to try. It just means we need to take care.
And choose wise readers to give us feedback.
Tots for Shakespeare
And now, Theo, the two year old, will deliver a few words from Hamlet. Too cute.
Roger Ebert’s Political History and Civics Quiz
This quiz seems a bit petty, but it is mostly interesting. Of course, if one were to use this as part of an argument for liberal intellectual prowess, it fails. Why would it matter for voters to remember how many presidents and first ladies graduated from Harvard? Does graduating from Harvard mean they are intellectually superior to the rest of us and thus must be obeyed? What about Yale graduates? I remember John Kerry being praised for mental acumen, but his grades were not as good as George W. Bush’s at during the Yale years, and Bush went on to Harvard Business School for an MBA.
Beyond that, Ebert ask a few questions that are debatable. His suggestion that we can just search for the answers is unhelpful at best. “Is ‘Obamacare’ allowed by the U. S. Constitution?” My search results lead to this: “A mandate requiring all individuals to purchase health insurance would be an unprecedented form of federal action. The government has never required people to buy any good or service as a condition of lawful residence in the United States.”
I don’t think that’s the answer Ebert’s looking for, but what do I know? He thinks it matters that I remember Vice President Agnew. (Cross-posted on Newsvine; hat tip: Big Hollywood)
Roger Ebert's Political History and Civics Quiz
This quiz seems a bit petty, but it is mostly interesting. Of course, if one were to use this as part of an argument for liberal intellectual prowess, it fails. Why would it matter for voters to remember how many presidents and first ladies graduated from Harvard? Does graduating from Harvard mean they are intellectually superior to the rest of us and thus must be obeyed? What about Yale graduates? I remember John Kerry being praised for mental acumen, but his grades were not as good as George W. Bush’s at during the Yale years, and Bush went on to Harvard Business School for an MBA.
Beyond that, Ebert ask a few questions that are debatable. His suggestion that we can just search for the answers is unhelpful at best. “Is ‘Obamacare’ allowed by the U. S. Constitution?” My search results lead to this: “A mandate requiring all individuals to purchase health insurance would be an unprecedented form of federal action. The government has never required people to buy any good or service as a condition of lawful residence in the United States.”
I don’t think that’s the answer Ebert’s looking for, but what do I know? He thinks it matters that I remember Vice President Agnew. (Cross-posted on Newsvine; hat tip: Big Hollywood)
Piles of snow, and pyramids of words
Last night my neighbor blew the snow out of the driveway, for which I was grateful. Tonight I did it again, because it had to be done again. Consumer report: Tonight’s snow was about the consistency of flour, and pleasantly loose to blow (no jams), although it tended to come back at you when you blew it into the wind.
(On tonight’s menu, sweet rolls baked from Snowblower Flour, with Snowblower Jam filling.)
Today is apparently National Link to Roy Jacobsen Day. I was amused by the picture Roy posted here, giving a graphic example of what editing is all about. Also what news writing is all about, by the way.
Long ago, the journalism industry settled on an “upside down pyramid” form for news stories, and they use it to this day, because it works extremely well.
The formula is to put the most essential information, and only that, in the first paragraph. The heaviest stuff. The base of the upside-down pyramid. “Who, what, when, where and why?” You may very the order, but Paragraph One will contain all those things.
The next paragraph will include important further information that deepens the reader’s knowledge. (Like “how.”)
The next paragraph will include slightly less important information.
Each paragraph will be less important than the one before.
This accomplishes three things.
1.It starts the story with a bang.
2.It permits the reader who only has time to skim, to get the gist of the story at the top.
3.It permits the mighty editor (and this is far from the least of the reporter’s concerns) to trim the article from the bottom. If he needs to cut two paragraphs, he knows that cutting the last two will remove the two least important parts of the story.
I’m not a journalist, so I feel free to share these trade secrets with the general public.
Now you, too, can start a news blog.
Passing Muster with the Hard Things
Poet Kay Ryan says, “Well, there are a lot of things that I deep six right away. Most things I write don’t pass muster.” Patrick Kurp quotes her in this post and talks about one of her beautiful poems, “Things Shouldn’t Be So Hard.” (This second link goes to a PBS post about that book of poetry.)
The Fear of Writing Well
Roy Jacobsen has a post on bad writing, quoting Stephen King who said fear is the root of most of it. (via Nerol Notae) I don’t know how much bad writing fear has caused for me, but I know it works me daily to produce no writing. Even now, I don’t know what to say next, which is the reason I link to other posts far more often than work up my own. What do I have to say that’s worth reading?
Now for the bad writing I’ve edited, fear may be the main reason behind it, but I have thought the reasons are lack of skill or time. I worked with one man who wrote frequently, but his style was difficult to read. He strung together several propositions without building an argument for any of them. A couple times, I suggested that the focus on one or two points for the article and illustrate them, but that idea never made into the writing. If he tried to do it, I don’t know. I told a friend that I thought he was writing at the best of his ability and that in order to write better he would have to spend much more time at it.
Perhaps fear was the root of his propositional writing. I don’t see it clearly enough to label it.