Day Seventeen- Excuse Me, I Speak Jive

Okay, so some of you may remember the above dialogue from Airplane. (It's also why occasionally I say that I picked a bad day to stop sniffing glue... for those of you wondering if I had a drug habit.) They pick the most ludicrous person of all to speak "jive" of course--the older lady.

I'm currently listening to an audiobook that makes me want to stick pencils in my ears because the author thinks she speaks jive. She sooooo doesn't. Her twenty-one year old MC has the out-dated image of what a twenty-one year old was like--well twenty-one years ago... or longer. Her dialogue is hokey. The ideas are old-fashioned. It's just not reality. The problem is that this particular writer has been writing for thirty or forty years. Her audience has grown with her and, lucky for her, they're near her age. Okay. Fine. Write for your fans. That's fine. On the other hand, keep your characters over the age of thirty or forty, because you CAN'T write from the viewpoint of anyone under that age. Ugh. It's so terrible that it defies description. I've tried to explain the sheer awfulness of it, but it's just not possible. The two MCs are like caricatures of twenty year olds. I nearly want someone else to listen to it to share the horror that is this book.

So, that brings me to the topic of "speaking jive." I think about half of us are writing for a YA audience--at least at times. We've discussed language before, but it just keeps dancing around my brain.

I once read a review on Amazon from a mom on a book that was vying for the "Breakthrough Novel Award" and she said something to the effect of: This book is simply not realistic because there isn't any swearing in it. On the other hand, I wouldn't let my daughter read it if there was swearing in it. Well, that's what we call "a paradox", isn't it? I think a lot of parents feel that way. How will our intended audience feel about it?

Do they want reality?

Uhh...

Do they want something that dodges around reality without getting their book snatched yet without being patronizing?

That's a fuzzy line. A really fuzzy line.

That's even before you get to slang... and my personal conundrum: texting.

I'm currently writing the occasional text conversations into this book, but I'm not writing them in "text speak" because it would make my head explode. Seriously. It would. My sister and I text back and forth, and I use full sentences and punctuation. I feel like texting is contributing to the fall of grammar as we know it. I was reading a book with text conversations in it--painful. Agony. I felt brain cells dying.

Suddenly, I find myself questioning: am I doing the same thing this author--who has nearly driven me to drink--is doing? Am I attempting to speak jive when really I'm not?

How do you handle these things?

Now, for the Seussian challenge in regards to texting conversations: "Would you, could you in a box? Would you, could you--with a fox?"

No, Sam I am, I really, really couldn't. If it comes to writing the conversations in text speak, I'll cut them--rather than make my eyes bleed. That's even besides the fact that I can't speak that level of jive. Shudder. It makes me want to climb into a corner and sing songs like Kum-ba-ya.

Day Sixteen- Following their instincts....

So, I'm still pushing off my planned topic because I noticed something today when I was dropping my kids off.

It's dumping rain here... buckets. So, a lot of parents were dropping their kids off at school. Plus, our school is a nice school so we have a lot of parents that "open enroll" their kids from outside the boundaries so they have to bring their kids. The end result being that the parking lot is mad chaos in a circle for about twenty minutes every morning... and more so on rainy days.

I'd already dropped the kids off when it happened. As I was waiting in line to exit the parking lot, the first group of kids with a parent (on foot) went out of their way to cross in front of me. It happened again and again. I was watching around me and I would guess that people were four or five times more likely to cross in front of my car than other cars. I even had people choose to cross in front of me over the cross walk right behind me. I don't know what it was specifically. I'm overly cautious by nature (OCD in action) so I tend to leave a larger gap in front of me when it comes to driving and idling. Was it that? I also am not a rolling idle sort of person who eats up inches as soon as they become available. So, my brake lights were severely obvious, and I wasn't moving--was that it? What part of these people's instincts said that I was the right person to cross in front of? Their instincts were right--I'm cautious to the point of disturbing. I'm also the one that lost children in stores come to. I can't tell you how many times I've taken a child to find their parent or walked them to the courtesy desk. Children also come talk to me over other adults. What is it about me that says "safe"? When I was helping in T's preschool class, I had several kids--the first day--go home and mention me as a friend.

Instincts. They're weird. Sometimes they're logical. Sometimes they aren't, but they are there. I just wrote a scene that involved instincts of a crowd--which are even more baffling at times. Did you know that if you're ever being assaulted... instead of yelling for help... you should yell "FIRE?" I learned it in a self-defense class put on by a police officer. Statistically, you'll be more likely to have people rush to see the fire than to help. (Plus, I imagine it'll confuse the heck out of your attacker.)

I feel like instincts are key to writing three dimensional characters. Writing fast--as the NaNo opportunity provides, I think gives you even more of an ability to get into characters--to write THEIR dialogue and not yours. Every time I say to myself, "No, he/she wouldn't do that--she would do this," I mentally pat myself on the back for recognizing the difference between my instincts and my character's.

The other nice thing about NaNo is that you can go wildly off onto tangents that you might later cut, but it does get that word count up. Plus, who knows... maybe your tangent is right on your character's instincts.

If you don't feel like talking about this, the post below is empty... so you can say anything you feel like.

I'm having a bit of a Thanksgiving type of day today. I'm so freakishly thankful for antibiotics. I'm also thankful the husband replaced the tire on my car. I'm thankful for meeting Diana. I'm thankful that my parents are home from France after a year and a half and we'll get to see them this week. I'm thankful for a wood pile that is keeping my house warm. I'm thankful my kids are in school for several hours so I can find some peace and quiet. (T has been out of control. I think the strange feeling from his head wound is setting off his sensory system. He has this same problem every time he gets his hair cut.) I'm thankful for so many online and real life friends. I'm thankful that I'm meeting a friend this week for pie and a place that makes amazing pies. I'm very thankful for what sleep I got last night after so many nights of coughing and feeling like my lungs were drowning. I'm thankful for a friend that turned me onto to Castle. I love that show. I'm thankful for a laptop that makes my life so easy. I'm thankful for my husband who made the best roast in the world yesterday on a day that needed it. I'm very thankful today. I'm very thankful for the Frosting I'm about to go eat.

Have a good Monday everyone.

Day Fifteen- Halfway to Emptiness

I had some idea about what I wanted to talk about but I'm pushing it off until tomorrow.

This is ANOTHER empty post. That's right! No subject. Say whatever you have on your mind. Nothing is a tangent because there is no thread of topic here.

Oh... antibiotics--good. I had an awful time getting to sleep last night, but I woke up feeling LESS horrible than I did the previous morning. Everyone at church kept saying, "You look terrible." I answered, "Yes, but I'm less terrible than I might have been." Apparently, this is a silver lining that not everyone sees.

Day Fourteen- Don't cross the streams--most of the time.

Okay, do you remember that part in Ghostbusters when they've got their packs on and:

Egon: There's something very important I forgot to tell you.

Peter: What?

Egon: Don't cross the streams.

Peter: Why?

Egon: It would be bad.

Peter: I'm fuzzy on the whole good/bad thing. What do you mean "bad"?

Egon: Try to imagine all life as you know it stopping instantaneously and every molecule in your body exploding at the speed of light.

Ray: Total Protonic Reversal.

Peter: Right. That's bad. Okay. All right. Important safety tip. Thanks, Egon.

While I think it's a rare day when Ghostbuster's logic doesn't explain life as I know it, some of you might be wondering if I need to see a "special" kind of doctor. I'll explain. First of all, you'll remember at the end of Ghostbusters--they cross the streams, right? It's the only way at times.

So, you're currently booking on your WIP or NaNo book.... Everything is going either good or bad, but it's going. At what point, do you bring a beta in to assess? I mean... if you're only 20K into something--it's maybe one third of the way done, but YOU KNOW it's going to go through heavy rewrites before you really WANT to show it to anyone. For crying out loud, if you're Diana, you've probably got a bunch of embarrassing homophones hanging around laughing at you behind your back. Write, Diana? I mean, right? (Snicker) Just kidding. Homophones are tricky little buggers.

On the other hand--what if you're taking it the wrong direction? What if your audience is like "what the crap? I have NO idea what you're even talking about here." If you get a beta in there to assess the damage and praise the good stuff--maybe--just maybe you can get things going in the right direction.

The reason I'm thinking of this is that my sister had a really, really, really bad week this week. Funerals. Pet death. Bad. Her sister bailed on her due to some lame sickness that has brought her nigh onto death. So, my sister asked to read all my WIP because she needed to read something new that would restore her joi de verve. It's rare that I let people see my WIPs--especially since I can finish them so fast. I held off on Honor Six (which I've discovered people have been desperate to harass me about, but afraid I'll quit if they do.) I handed over Scorched, Versus the Bounty, and the Chosen Changeling. As I did so, I realized that I actually wanted advice. What was worth finishing next? I'll finish Scorched of course, but I wasn't sure what to do about the Chosen Changeling. I was booking on Versus the Bounty for a while, and then I got distracted by NaNo. So, anyway... she came back saying that she liked the Chosen Changeling the best (which I wasn't shelving, but it was lower on my list of things to finish. I was genuinely shocked. It might be the genre, but still....)

So, bringing in betas to give opinions on an unfinished product... can you do it? Even if there are major flaws that would embarrass you if your beta buddy mentioned it on her blog?

I'm a perfectionist so it takes a really good reason for me to hand around copies of something unfinished. On the other hand, the wisdom of Ghostbusters--sometimes you just need to cross the streams.

Today, I'm going into the doctor--as soon as the temperature outside is about forty degrees. Brrr.

Day Thirteen- When Your Luck Runs Out

I didn't write at all yesterday. GASP! Scorched was unscathed the whole day. The husband made a point of noticing that I reach 51K and then sit back and do nothing.

I was just busy "networking" aka "running all over the internet commenting on everyone's business."

However, it is Friday the 13th, and I wanted to talk about dust bunny books. There are two books that are commonly held to be your "practice" books. The first book you write--and anything written during NaNo.

I've got this first book--the first book I wrote, and I don't know what to do with it. They say your first book is a throw-away book, but I like this book and it's integral to the Sarah series. I don't want to throw it away, but it's sort of... pacing impaired. I think it may have been over-edited. Plus, it's about someone with OCD written very stream of consciousness, so it's choppy from that too.

Has anyone recovered a book that was drawer-worthy? or will edits just Frankenstein it to something hideous and unrecognizable?

I almost feel like starting over, but I don't want to do that either. Ugh. I just don't know. Plus, the poor thing was even shifted to be second in the series, so it suffered through a batch of rewrites over that. I have friends clamoring to get their hands on this other series, and some of the later Sarahs are rocking awesome. I really wish I could save Devi from the middle of the books and give her an entire series.

It's not that bad, but... ugh.

Anyone?

Also, can you actually shelve books? Will you shelve your NaNo book if you're writing one? I can't stand to see books shelved. It just seems so sadly tragics. Stories going untold. Characters thrown away. Sniff. Sniff.

BTW--I'm still sick. It's time to see a doctor about a culture I think. (I meant a throat culture--because I'm not sure if that made sense. I'm a little impaired myself today.) I'm worried I have Strep throat. I used to get it so often when I was in my early teens that they decided I was a carrier. Now, I seem to have no tolerance to it. This has been an odd sickness. I'm not piling up Kleenex by the box load. It's just in my throat and lungs. Every time I get something like this and bring up Strep throat, the husband goes into public service announcement mode with the kids and brings up that Jim Henson died of strep throat. I think this makes us sick in a new way, but I can't be sure.

B got an award today, though. She got a "Terrific Kid Award" at an assembly. T got this last year and has turned into a braggart about it--to the point that he's become a pest. Thank goodness that B got hers now too. We get to put the bumper sticker on our car and become one of "those" parents. It feels like we're slapping on a badge of "uncoolness" in doing so, though. I'm not sure how to counteract it. I did wear a Pantera sweatshirt to the assembly, so that would win me cool points--except for the fact I wore it because it's warm and snuggly. Well, also, I've never gone to a Pantera concert, and I don't know where I got this sweatshirt. I usually get "nods" from teenagers that see it--like I'm hard core. Is it wrong that I don't correct their impression?

Happy Friday, everyone!

Flashy Fiction Friday (catty chat, speed dating)

So, I only have two flash pieces this week but I may have extra next week. The Thursday Flashy person didn't post a prompt, so I think that's why there isn't a prompt for Friday either. I can either get my trousers in a twist or go into a corner and cry... or I can just wait patiently and tack it onto next week.

I say this every Friday, but I also employ sarcasm sometimes and there is no sarcasm font, so this might be why you're not all running to the site. Flashy Fiction is awesome. Go there. Now. They post a prompt. You think about it. Flash on a brilliant work of literary fiction. Write it up in ten to twenty minutes. Praises galore. Instant gratification of being a success. Ego rises above the dismal swamp of rejected queries. Yay! Plus, it's good practice. Deb, Walt, and Girl with One Eye (GwOE for future reference because I'm lazy) all post there.

Okay, here are my pieces for this week:

November 8th:

Prompt:

I stared at the cat. "Did you just talk?"

It stared back. "No."

Mine:

I stared at the cat. "Did you just talk?"

It stared back. "No."

No, of course it hadn't. Wait. "Are you trying to trick me into thinking you're not a talking cat?" I asked the gray tabby. I couldn't believe I was even having this conversation.

"No," it said again. That creaky voice sounded familiar, and the cat's mouth hadn't moved.

"I'm going to go eat all the lemon cookies, do you want some?" I asked.

"Staaay Awaaay from the lemon cookies! They're not yoooours," it moaned. I saw a tuft of gray hair peek above the back of the couch, slightly above the cat's perch.

"Okay, kids, who switched Grandma's meds out with tic tacs again???!!!" I shouted behind me. "You know how weird she gets when you do that!"

November 9th

Prompt:

Mine:

I hate speed dating. Why did I let Kendra talk me into it again?

Oh look. Here is my date for the next fifteen minutes. He looks like he just got out of prison.

"My name is Doug," he says, sitting down.

"Amy," I reply with a frozen smile. He's date number six.

Meanwhile, Kendra is at the next table with the guy who I assumed was a mortician and unable to smile, and he's laughing his stupid head off. He'd yawned while talking to me and looked at his watch six times.

I hate speed dating. My fake smile is starting to hurt my cheeks.

"Here are some break the ice questions," I say, holding up the sheet I'd been given in case a date isn't going well. It's true that it's too early to call on this guy, but I have a hunch.

Doug leans forward, saying, "Look. Let's cut to the chase. You want me. I want you. You can try on all these other guys but none of them will make smoke come out your ears as you scream their name...if you know what I mean. Let's just exchange phone numbers, and we'll skip this talking crap."

I look at the break the ice questions and answer them in my head on Doug's behalf. No. As black as my soul. No. A naked lady on my bicep. Yes. An STD. OH YEAH. Smashing beer cans with my head. Seven.

"Alright, Doug," I say, writing down Kendra's cell phone number on a napkin. "Sometimes I like to play hard to get--just to keep it interesting."

"I can't wait. I like the hunt." He fakes a bite in the air, and for a moment--I almost feel guilty.

Then, another round of laughter breaks out from the mortician, and Kendra puts her arm around him, giggling.

"Let me give you my work number too," I add with my first real smile.

Day Twelve-- Optimus Prime Says: "Know Thy Audience."

This is selected text from my son's new Transformers book:

"We Primes represent the entire cybertronian race, standing inviolate, incorruptible--a figurehead. We encapsulate an ideal, an archetype...."

"Despite vociferous, if duly respectful protestations from Prowl, I take Ark-32 and set course for the Muta-Gaath Nebula, and, within its far from welcoming gaseous volatility...."

Wait for the sound effects, though--surely THEY should be easy to understand. Saying them out loud SHOULD help you hear the action, right?

"KALUNNNNNNG!"

"BA-TTANNKK!"

"SKRUUUNK!"

"VARK!"

"ZRAKTT!"

"THASSHT!"

"ZZHT!"

"FLANNGG!"

Uhh... yeah. Maybe not. It sucked to have to admit to my six year old that I had no idea what his Transformers book said. I turned it over to the husband who was able to translate it effectively--though with some frustration. You know--because every six to twelve year old boy knows what the term "vociferous" means. The husband walked by while I was reading it and stopped cold in his tracks, asking, "What on earth are you reading?"

Which begs the question: "If a thirty-three year old English Major doesn't understand what the book says, who were they writing this for?"

By the way, this is only the first small section of the book--the first twenty pages of a two hundred page book.

I know this subject (word choice) has come up in a few other blogs: Bane's, for example. Still, I have a question about it in regards to POV.

So, my NaNo manuscript is going well, but I'm occasionally wanting to stick in words that just may not be right. If this were a third person book, I'd have more license, I think. If you're writing a first person book from a seventeen year old's perspective, how far can you stretch the vocabulary when describing actions, attributions, giving a little back-story? In dialogue, it would be obviously stupid to start vociferously peppering my speech with complex vocabulary. (Although if Optimus Prime does it... doesn't that means it's okay?) Should the entire book have the same exact level for both thought, perceived, and spoken language?

I'm beta-ing a book for Diana that is in the first person, and I noted a word used in a description that I thought was too much for a sixteen year old, and it got me thinking about my own book. (If I'm going to be hyper-critical of anyone, it's going to be me.) BTW, Di, that's part of my reasoning for thinking the book should be shifted to third person--language constraints.

So, while this might be a rewrite thing to address, I'm still curious. If a seventeen year old wouldn't say it to the person next to them, can you still use it in non-verbal communication in a first person narrative?

Okay, I'm going to "out" Diana--which may horrify her, but it illustrates my point, and she might forgive me. The sentence that got me thinking about this started with "I demurred..." but it was this teenager mentally describing an action.

Can a sixteen year old "demure" in a first person narrative?

Can a robot vociferously toss around ten dollar words in a first person narrative meant for young boys?

On the one hand, you don't want to talk down to your audience, but there must be allowances made for your audience, right? Even with context--in a first person narrative--there are constraints, right?

Opinions?

Yes, I'm nitpicking, but we're all big kids, and I've crossed the 50K mark, and my middle name is "nitpick." (Thanks, Mom. Way to make my life awkward in junior high.)

As for me, I still sound vile, and it's hard to sleep at night when your lungs feel like they're drowning you. T's eyebrow wound--should have been stitched. The glue is not enough. I think it's too late to go back and have them redo it, though. Dang it! I called it too. I walked in and said, "Stitches." I got over-ruled by so-called medical professionals who are not professionals in a six year old boy with sensory issues who WILL bang his head against every available surface. T was sort of excited to tell the story at school. (Hopefully, he drops the part about it being his little five year old girlfriend. They're going to get married some day, so he might as well learn to stand up to her when she is young. She's a bossy little thing, but that's part of her charm.)

Happy Thursday, everyone. Go have some Frosting. (Wink wink, Deb.)