The Road: the movie

Just finished watching the movie The Road, based on the novel of the same name by Cormac McCarthy. My friend Terry Grignon recommended this movie in his blog some time ago, but I kind of put off seeing it because (1) I read the book and loved it and was devastated for a long time after that; and (2) Dan doesn’t like depressing movies.

But Cormac McCarthy is probably my favorite of all living American writers, so the movie couldn’t be put off forever.  And then of course the movie, like the book, like all things Cormac McCarthy, exists on many different levels, and not all of them are devastating.

So Dan left after about twenty minutes of watching grim and grimmer, and I didn’t argue. There were times I wanted to leave, too. But then there were the times that (despite the feeling I was watching the Viewers’ Digest condensed version) Cormac McCarthy’s fine writing shown through. The total love of the man for the boy illuminated the entire movie–as it did the book. And the boy’s inherent goodness.

One thing I got from Save the Cat! is that the theme should be stated in something like the first ten pages (minutes?). And there it was: The man says in voice over: “If [the boy] is not the Word of God, then God never spoke.”
Oh, beautiful!

Let Your Imagination Take Flight

I just got back from the two-day “Let Your Imagination Take Flight” conference of the New England Chapter of the Romance Writers of America (NECRWA). What a wonderful event!

I went to the conference by myself, having met only a small handful of the attendees, and those, only just barely. And yet: I never felt alone. I’ve come away from this conference with a couple of new friends I really want to keep in touch with. And many new friendly faces I hope to see again.

Thirteen lucky people won a psychic reading. I was not one of them. But like every attendee, I was given spiritual reading card that contained the psychic advice most perfectly suited to me.

One of my characters occasionally hunts with wolves and comes back bloody and wild and shy. Sometimes I feel that way as a writer. Good card.

All in all, I had the best ol’  time, and I learned a lot.

I am so proud to be a member, even a fairly inactive one, of the NECRWA. It is such a friendly, supportive, generous, and hardworking group of writers! I’d like to acknowledge by name (sorry, I don’t have the links to your Web sites; I’ll update this post if I get them) the conference organizers: Kate George, Janet Campbell, Kimberley Dias, Pam Claughton, Mina Bourque, Kat Duncan, Tara Holt, and Valerie Harris. Kudos, ladies! Hats off to you!

More posts on this conference will follow.

What to use instead of adverbs

Adverbs, particularly those ending in -ly, have gone out of fashion these days. Many advisors to writers are now advising that we not use them. Preferably not at all. Or, if we must, then as seldom as possible. Naturally (oops), this leads to the question: What should a writer should use instead?

Here are some answers.

  • When the adverb is a qualifier (mostly, somewhat, possibly, very, extremely, actually, etc.), just don’t use it. Most sentences are stronger without the qualifier. Try it and see. I promise you: You NEVER need “very”. Ever.
  • Use strong, picturesque verbs, nouns, and adjectives instead of weak ones with descriptors. For example, replace “He spoke loudly” with “He shouted” or “screamed” or “ranted.”
  • Use metaphors. Instead of “He looked at her vacuously” try “He looked as if he hadn’t had a thought in weeks.”
  • Substitute an adjective. Thank heavens adjectives are still in fashion. Many writers do this these days. Instead of “She glared at him angrily” they write “She glared at him, angry.” Personally, I think this is a bastardization of the language, but many of these writers otherwise know their craft.
  • Substitute a prepositional phrase. “She glared at him in anger.” Hey, now you’ve got a rock-solid NOUN here!

If you are beginning to find this list arbitrary and even a bit nonsensical, please join the crowd. Many writers, published and not, rightly find the current campaign against adverbs unwarranted. I’ll go out on a limb here and say that all the great writers used adverbs. Even Shakespeare used adverbs.

This is a fashion we’re talking about, folks, and like all fashions, it will pass. Take the good parts and ignore the nonsensical ones. Lose the qualifiers. Strengthen nouns and especially verbs. Choose dynamic adjectives. Find metaphors that wake your readers up. Then, if you still have a place for them, use adverbs that sing. And use them effectively.

What to write if you want to make money

Thank you, Catherine Ryan Hyde, for this quote from author Elmore Leonard. When asked what a person should write if he wants to make money, Leonard replied, “Ransom notes.”

You can read Ms. Hyde’s full article (on the economics of being a novelist) in DailyFinance here.

Gimme Grammar 2

There are a number of differences between British English and American English when it comes to grammar and punctuation, but none is so annoying (to a person on the left side of the ocean) as the rules applying to punctuation adjacent to quotation marks at the end of a sentence.

In this case, the Brits are completely logical. And the Americans are, well, Americans.

I refused to accept this for years, but I’m older and more mellow now, and I try to do what I’m told.

Here are the rules.

If you’re British (and I think but I’m not sure, also Canadian) you do the right thing: Terminal punctuation adjacent to quotation marks goes where it logically makes sense. If it closes whatever’s in the quotation marks, then it goes inside the quotation marks. If it closes the sentence as a whole, then it goes outside the quotation marks. I feel a bit silly including examples since this is so bloody obvious, but, well, maybe not to the Americans. So here you go:

  • She let out a scream and cried, “Help!”
  • The grammarian sighed. “I can’t help you.”
  • “Why on Earth not?”
  • What is the definition of the word “abecedarian”?
  • [Watch this one carefully] “I don’t know the definition of the word ‘abecedarian’.”
  • Here is the definition of “abecedarian”.

Now, for you Americans, the first three of these work the same way. So does the fourth, because the rule is this: regardless of the logic of the sentence, if the terminal punctuation is a question mark or an exclamation point, it goes outside the quotation marks.

But the final two examples are different. If you’re an American, the rule is this: Regardless of the logic of the sentence, if the terminal punctuation is a period or a comma, it goes inside the quotation marks.

  • [Watch this one carefully] “I don’t know the definition of the word ‘abecedarian.'”
  • Here is the definition of “abecedarian.”

Oh, that last one really hurts.

Gimme Grammar

Okay, I’ll admit it: I love grammar. I particularly love getting it right. When I was in high school about two and a half centuries ago I really enjoyed diagramming sentences. I could probably still do it, and I’d take some pleasure from it, too.

Like anyone with a passion about something, I do have my pet peeves on the subject–misuses that particularly annoy me. Don’t you?

One of the grammatical errors that I especially love to hate is the misuse of “whoever” and “whomever”. I once almost got fired over this. Really.

The incident occurred when I worked as a director of a software delivery and customization organization inside a fast-growing software product company. I was asked to review a brochure about our services that had been drafted by a young man who worked as a contract writer in the marketing department. The precise offending sentence has long been forgotten, but it was structurally similar to the following:

Our company’s services are indispensable to whomever wants up-to-date Web-site information.

Naturally, I corrected “whomever” to “whoever”, but the young writer didn’t make the change.

This went on for two revisions. I took the trouble to quote Garner’s Modern American Usage and other sources, all of which he ignored. After all, he was the expert on writing, not me. I was the software manager, and what do software managers know about English? Obviously–nothing. Finally, I lost my cool. I wrote him a scathing note about the importance of professional writers using correct grammar. He retaliated by complaining to his manager about me. (He showed her my final note, but not all the correspondence that led up to it.)

Despite the fact that I was correct on the matter and he unwilling to listen, I was the one who got the reprimand. The grounds, quite correctly, were that as a senior manager in the organization, I had acted unprofessionally toward a non-management worker. The fact that I was right had no impact on the matter. I kept my job only because I had my own evidence. I was able to show to what lengths I had gone to try to work with him before losing my cool.

In my part of the organization at least, we all cheered when the young man was finally let go.

That was a long time ago, and I really do hope that the young writer has since then learned the very simple rule that applies to “whomever” and “whoever”.

The error that he made was one of overcorrecting. He correctly noted that the “who(m)ever wants information” clause of the sentence was the object of the preposition “to”, and so he used “whom” (as in “to whom it may concern”). However, “who(m)ever” plays a role in the dependent clause also, as subject of the clause. And this role trumps the relationship with the preposition.

Garner puts it this way: Look at whatever grammatically follows (not preceeds) the “ever”. If it’s the verb of the following clause, use “whoever”. If it’s not the verb, use “whomever”. If you are in doubt, don’t overcorrect. Stick with “whoever”.

I learned an even simpler rule that accomplishes the same result: Substitute “the person who” or “the person whom” for “whoever” or “whomever”, and see how it sounds. The correct structure immediately becomes obvious. “Our company’s services are indispensable to the person who wants up-to-date information.” Not “the person whom wants the information.” Whoever, not whomever.

No question. No argument. No reprimand.

Do you have a favorite grammatical peeve, dear reader? Or a point of grammar that has always confused you? Please let me know. I will be happy to clear things up. I’d bet my Strunk & White on it.

Imagine or Die

I’m attending Readercon this year for the second time. What a great con! For people interested in reading (and writing) speculative fiction, this is the con to attend. There aren’t many tracks compared to, oh, say, Worldcon–but all the tracks have to do with stories. And the folks attending, as you might imagine for a con devoted to literature, are literate. Also intelligent, friendly, and interesting to be around.

But, about the topic of this post. On Thursday night, Barry Longyear gave a one-and-a-half-hour presentation on “the care and feeding of imagination, how to unleash it and let it run.” What he showed us was, essentially all the background research he did to write his current book series, Confessions of a Confederate Vampire. In addition to copious background material on every character, real and fictitious, he has done meticulous research–historical, factual, visual, tactile, acoustic, gustatory and olfactory (where applicable) on every aspect of Confederate life and every place where his characters ever were. We’re talking hundreds and hundreds of pages and images and (where applicable) objects ranging from bullets to hard tack. He even learned to play a banjo and to pick out songs of the period.

I was so awed by the incredible depth of his research that it took me about the next hour to realize that he hadn’t talked about imagination at all.

What he did is to lead us to the door that opens into the silent, indescribable numinous space where imagination dwells and point beyond where words fail.

Thank you, Mr. Longyear, for the inspiration.

Neurolinguistic Programming

Today, my guest post about neurolinguistic programming (NLP)–and its usefulness for writers–appears on writer Jagi Lamplighter’s blog. NLP ties together speech patterns, unconscious subliminal actions and reactions, neurological processing, psychology, and self- and organizational improvement. Heady stuff–and fun.

Also, if anyone wants to know the true story about how I decided which dress to wear at the wedding, you’ll find it in that post.

Check it out!

State of mind

I’m thirsty.

I’m thirsty, and there are weeds in my garden that I can see from the study window.

I’m thirsty; there are weeds in my garden that I can see from the study window; and the protagonist of my novel has a major character-development problem that will be devilishly hard to fix. I’ll probably have to rewrite the first four chapters. Again.

I think I’ll go get a bottle of cold water out of the fridge.

I think I’ll do that and then put on my gardening shoes and go out and pull some weeds while the ground is still soft.

Who knows–maybe by then it will be time for dinner.