Showing posts with label On Writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label On Writing. Show all posts

Monday, October 26, 2020

Book Notes, part 3

 Back in June I decided to take some time off from writing in this blog.  I was still working my old job, which demanded a lot of hours, and I was not feeling inspired to keep up with much.  However, as I kept reading, I made some notes about the books.  They aren’t much, some are just impressions, but this includes some books that I would have liked to have explored more fully in posts.  I thought that I would post a collection of these here and maybe this will inspire me to go back and write more about them.

Note: I ended up with more than I thought for some of these so I decided to split them up.  Here are 5 more of them.



On Writing, by Stephen King

Pretty good book about writing.  King offers some folksy, but ultimately helpful, advise on writing.  There is a lot in this book about his own life, but that seems to be pretty common in these sorts of books.  Among the writing books I have read, King is most forceful in his admonitions to read a lot and write a lot.  Beyond this, he offers some pretty good practical advice on cutting unnecessary plot point and back story and avoiding adverbs.  This is the kind of direct advice many writers look for.  I had a snobbish time in my twenties when I didn’t want to admit that I liked King.  I am over that.  He writes good books even if he isn’t always a good writer.  This is a distinction that I think he could appreciate, given the content of the rest of his book on writing.

I have read this book before (it has been a while) and I was reminded of his candor about his own life, particularly about his alcoholism and about the van collision that nearly killed him.  He is a fearlessly honest writer who genuinely wants to tell good stories.  I can dig it.



Children of Ruin, by Adrian Tchaikovsky

Read the first book, Children of Time, a year or more ago for sf book club and really liked it.  I think I missed some key elements of this early on and didn’t really catch the full meaning.  This happens sometimes when I read.  I miss part of the beginning and the whole rest of the novel is just playing catch up.  Maybe this is why I like to re-read books so much.  

Anyway, it was good but I wish I had paid more attention at the beginning.





Bird by Bird, by Anne Lamott

I read this book about 20 years ago when I was in college and thinking about a life of writing.  I don’t remember what I thought of it at the time, though I have taken at least one important lesson from it.  Lamott has one chapter called “Shitty First Drafts” and this was something that I would make my own writing students read.  It tells us that first drafts should, indeed, be shitty.  They aren't meant for public consumption and don’t have to look like it.  They are messy because they are a part of the process and can be a place to explore and take chances.  I like this a lot and have tried to use it in my writing and impart it to my students.

There are also a lot of references to god that I don’t find particularly edifying, or anything that might be even notionally helpful to beginning writers.  At one point, she wants us to get rid of perfectionism in writing, a fine goal.  However, there is some nonsense about this being easier if you believe in god and zero explanation of why this might be so.  These allusions to religion probably make sense to the author, and might work for other christian believers, but there needs to be more connective tissue between the concept and the work.  I didn’t see it most of the time.  I would like to at least see the concept in action.

Overall, I have one big like and one big dislike of this book.  I like the fact that, like Stephen King in On Writing, she pushes the axiom that writers must write.  They do it because they want to and because they find value in it and in stories.  Lamott encourages writers to find their particular audience (one writer’s audience may be a parent, a child, etc.) and to write for that audience without regard for publication.  I like this.  She provides one particularly useful exercise based on this.  When hitting a stumbling point in writing, she advises writing a letter to a friend that explains a character’s motivation or why a particular point is important, or whatever the sticking point is.  I do this a lot, not necessarily in letter form, but I write about my writing a lot.  The big dislike that I have is that Lamott keeps pushing a particular view of writing and perspective that doesn’t square with my writing or what I think should be a part of everyone’s writing.  Frequently she will question why a writer is writing if they do not share some quality, such as naive wonder, a belief in god, a kind of innocence, or somesuch.  This crops up a couple of times and I thought it was unnerving each time.  She writes that writers need to seek the truth, and I think that this is right, but not in the objectified way that I take her to mean it.  To me, this reveals too much of the personal drive to write and not a proper piece of advice on writing as such.  Coupled with this, and equally irritating, Lamott frequently posits her writing students as wide-eyed fame seekers who poo-poo real advice on writing.  She repeatedly warns the reader that publication will not solve all of their problems.  Why this piece of advice is in this book, I cannot tell.  It is something that may be worthwhile mentioning in an undergraduate writing workshop, but probably not anywhere else.  It isn’t so much that I think this is untrue as it is unhelpful.  Anyone who believes it will never trust someone saying otherwise and no one else really needs to hear it.  But I say obvious things, too.  So I don’t begrudge it too much.

I wrote the first half of this a week or so ago and just want to mention that I did like the book overall even if I am a little harsh about some of the points.  It works and it is likely that the things that I didn’t like would be helpful to others.  


Atmosphaera Incognita by Neal Stephenson

This story popped up last year and I just got the chance to read it.  I don’t know if this classifies as a short story or a novella, or what.  My kindle app puts it over 50 pages, so I am going to treat it more like a novella.  The narrative is a little difficult to follow because there is not a lot of story here.  Rather, this is more of a mediation on the idea of the complexities involved in building a 20km tall structure.  The main character has been involved in the planning and logistics of building the structure and she ends up participating in a rescue mission during an extreme weather disaster that rocks the structure.  The disasters acts as a venue to answer more questions about what it would be like to build a 21st century tower of Babel.  

This was fun to read and it seems to be an update to the “space elevator” technology used in other sf stories.  The story shares in the hopeful, technologically advanced hard-sf tradition that explores the capabilities of human ingenuity.  Though I am not sure what to make of the capitalist-industrialist Carl who conceives and funds the whole project. His role in the project seems a little out of keeping with other Stephenson that I have read.  I need to think about this aspect more.


Innumeracy by John Allen Paulos

Innumeracy is one of those rare non-fiction books that I read because it catches my interest.  I try to read non-fiction as much as I can and in areas that that are outside of my norm.  In this case, this book is about mathematical literacy.  Two words about this before I continue.  First, I had first heard about this book from a math teacher in high school.  For whatever reason, this idea stuck with me and I am reading this more than 20 years later.  Second, I like math.  There was a time when I considered becoming a math major but I did not.  I think that I have a better-than-average layman’s understanding of mathematics.  I did dedicate a sizable portion of my doctoral dissertation to a literary rendering of Godel’s incompleteness theorem.  However, I am not a mathematician by any stretch of the imagination and never followed up on that idea aside from a little bit of research and reading occasional books.

So, to the book itself.  It isn’t bad.  The book mainly wants people to understand probability and simple statistics better.  This isn’t a book arguing the importance of higher mathematical concepts in daily life. It just wants folks to understand when and why stats they encounter can be misleading or totally bogus.  

There are two major drawbacks in the book.  The first has to do with the writing and style, and the second has to do with my perception of the book’s goals.  

To take the first first, Paulos writes at one point that his prose is guided by a desire to skip needless exposition (my gloss).  But he ends up being guilty of what he charges other math writers, namely, glossing over important explanations.  Paulos likes to stack up examples without explaining the significance of them.  This is self-defeating.  His purpose is to explain the importance of math to folks who do not see the importance.  But without providing adequate layman’s explanations, the book just doesn’t answer the call.  Second, and probably more damning, is that this book doesn’t provide adequate explanation for its own goals at key points.  One example that irked me was a section that attempted to apply statistical probability to choosing a mate.  Paulos gives his standard equations and explanations, but with one big hole.  Why the fuck is the selection of a mate something that is probabilistic?  Sure, maybe it is best to choose one mate from among the first third of suitors, but how is one to know how many potential mates one is to have in a lifetime?  A bigger question might be why one would think that something emotional and personal should be left to stats.  Paulos provides some equations and probabilities but doesn’t give any sense of why it would be appropriate to apply them.  

Otherwise, there is some good stuff in this book.  He just runs off the rails from time to time and can give some dumb answers, or at least, incompletely explained ones.





Saturday, June 13, 2020

Reading, Writing, Fatigue, and Times of Quarantine


Last week I finished reading James S.A. Corey’s Cibola Burn, the fourth book in The Expanse series.  Originally, I had envisioned reading and writing about a number of different sci-fi series as a part of this blog.  So far, it had worked and for the last couple of years I have read a lot of great books that I have been meaning to get to.  There have also been a few not-so-great books in there, too, but I don’t mind that so much.
The Corey book was good.  It was an entertaining read and continues to develop the series on a good trajectory.  But when it came time to begin writing about it, I just couldn’t seem to make myself do it.  I have generally been pretty good about motivating myself to write since graduate school, but this just wasn’t happening.
There are a couple of reasons that I just couldn’t seem to get myself over the hump and write it.  The first reason is just time.  The longer the span of time between finishing reading and beginning writing, the more I put it off.  I was losing little bits of plot and details about the characters.  I write most of these posts from memory and with minimal notes.  I will occasionally draft little bits while reading or note particular passages, but I don’t get overly studious about it.  
I write most of these posts within a day or two of finishing a book while it is still relatively fresh and while it is still on my mind.
I hadn’t gotten a chance to write about this because my job has been working massive amounts of overtime for the last 3 months since the Covid 19 quarantine started.  I work in a warehouse in inventory control.  My job is not super physical but I am on my feet all day.  It can have physical elements to it at times.  As our working days increased in length, I just didn’t have it in me to come home, shift gears to think about writing, and still have time to spend with my wife, eat, and have time to relax.  I just ran out of time.  This meant that the things that I would normally do during the week after work would get pushed to the weekends and the time I would normally spend reading and writing then dried up as well.
In fact, this is the first bout of sustained writing that I have done in nearly that whole three months.
The reason, then, that this all caught up to me is that I had been writing a backlog of posts for about the last year.  At one point, I had about 6 months’ worth of posts pre-written and scheduled for a weekly update.  Just this month I ran through my backlog and am up to current.
This made me question the future of this blog.  Did I really need to post weekly?   It was my own schedule and I can really do what I want.  No one really reads this anyway, so what was the difference?
I still don't have an answer to these questions.  There is a part of me that wants to chuck this whole blog and concentrate what time I do get to another project.  But then again, I am loathe to give up on something that I have, essentially, been doing just for myself all along.  So I miss a post here and there.  No one cares.  I can pick up whenever I want.
I think that I will keep going.  Maybe I can focus on shorter posts, or maybe I can find a different way to carve out some extra time.  I do like thinking and writing about books.  
Here is the point of all of this: work is fatiguing, even when it is work that we want to do, and particularly when it is work that we do not want to do.  I can’t take a break from my day job right now but I may be able to take a break from this for a little to recharge and refocus.  I do have other projects that I want to work on, or maybe I can just let things run fallow for a spell before trying to take anything on.

Either way, the regular posts are going to stop and I will plan to continue as I get the opportunity and inspiration.  I am a little disappointed to disrupt the series I have started, but this may just become a future opportunity to circle back and write about some of these books at a future time.

Monday, March 30, 2020

Full Throttle

Joe Hill's newest short story collection, Full Throttle, is as eclectic and fast-paced as 20th Century Ghosts.  I think that 20th Century Ghosts was among my favorite books that I read last year.  That book is chilling and thought-provoking at the same time.
This collection has some great high-points, but there are also some stories that left me wanting a little more.  Hill proves that he is a writer who thinks about process every bit as much as his father, Stephen King, as he provides both an introduction to the collection and notes to each of the stories.  In some ways I liked reading about Hill's relationship with reading and writing and the way that he thinks about process even more than some of the stories.  It is clear that he knows his influences and is a very conscientious artist.  The clarity that he brings to these explanatory notes borders on some of the best writing advice that I gleaned from King's On Writing
Rather than bumping through each of the stories, I am just going to hit upon a few that I liked the most and/or struck me in some way.

Probably my favorite story of the collection is "All I Care about is You," a futuristic, sci-fi story about a girl who pays for a robot companion on her birthday.  The story hits a lot of notes that I really like in sci-fi: the world is lived in and shows signs of wear, it is not enamored of the future and isn't afraid to show some of it's ugly parts.  For whatever technology may bring, there is still unhappiness and disappointment in the world.  For an author, like Hill, who is not primarily a sci-fi writer, this is a profound stroke.  There is a great turn in the story that I don't want to ruin here, but the interplay between the girl and the robot, and in particular the way that Hill writes the robot's simulated sincerity is very deep and well written.

"Late Returns" is ostensibly a story about a man grieving the deaths of his parents while working through a change in his life, taking a job driving a bookmobile.  But this story is also about the relationship that readers have to their books and the way that they can draw us and touch us.  This is something of a ghost story, but played in a low-key way that is very reminiscent of the story "20th Century Ghosts" from the book of the same name.  In both stories, Hill draws a line from aesthetics to life and death that is fascinating to consider. 

"Faun" is a great adventure/fantasy story with another good turn.  Hill shows his skills with classic mis-direction and connects folklore with a critique of privilege in a not-overbearing way.  This story has great momentum and offers compelling character studies of two of its key players.

In addition to all of the stories that work really well in this book, there are two that fell flat for me, and both because of the structure/conceit because there are great core ideas behind them.  The first, "The Devil on the Staircase," is written in "staircases" instead of paragraphs.  The story is pretty good but the structure is jarring and makes it difficult to read.  The pages look like those that a terrified Wendy Torrance finds in Kubrik's adaptation of The Shining.  In the note to this story, Hill bets his reader that they have never read a story written this way before.  True, I haven't, but that isn't enough to recommend it.

"Twittering from the Circus of the Dead" is similarly bound up in its conceit.  The entire story is written in tweets from a teenage girl on a family road trip.  The family stumble into a circus that contains real zombies.  Again, this is a neat story, but the structuring makes it difficult to read and, ultimately, doesn't add much to the story itself.  I would rather have read a more straight-forward narrative that was peppered with tweets, or one that was more thematically about social media than just the structure.

The remainder of the stories are good and vary in their depth.  The collection, overall, is a quality one and worth the read, however, I would still rank 20th Century Ghosts a little higher.  I still have not yet read one of Hill's novels, though I have a couple of these on my next up pile.