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A Chicago area girl born and bred, I've lived in Mississippi, Montana, Michigan, and...ten years in the wilds of northeastern Indiana, where I fought the noble fight as a book editor. Now, I'm back in Illinois once more...for good. (At least I intend to make it that way!)

Wednesday, September 30, 2020

Writing "Stupid"

What do you think of when you see the title above?
Do you think of being "freed" to write badly?
Do you think about writing "dreck" as a first draft and being fine with it?

Well, while all those things could be the meaning of the title...
...that's not what I mean with it this time around. 

What I'm referring to is the capacity to write people in your books who do stupid things.
Having them make, in fact, decisions that you don't even agree with.
And letting them completely screw up...because they're human.

For those of you sitting there scratching your heads and wondering, "What's the big deal about that?" I can tell you that, for some of us, being courageous enough to write people who are irrational, who blunder because they're scared or timid or acting under a mistaken impression...and who make really bad decisions as a result...is hard.

The old "unreliable narrator," as my critique partner is fond of calling it, is tough to write. And I know that because I have frequently lacked the courage and/or ability to do it before.

One of the criticisms I've gotten, over the years, is that some of my characters were "too perfect." Not so much because they were too pretty, or too successful, or too untroubled--but because they were so ding-danged rational.

Not that they'd never get mad or upset or crazed; they would. 
But they'd get over it really fast...and usually by talking themselves out of it.
Using calm, reasoned, oh-so-adult maturity, and sensibility, and never flying off the handle to the point where they'd said something truly awful that they couldn't take back.

Well, there was a good reason for that.
It was because I didn't want people to dislike my characters.

And then, lo and behold, along comes Debbie Macomber....
...who has written characters who are, at times, so completely frustrating to me that I'm yelling at them as I'm reading the page. 
"No!" I'm saying, as the hero and heroine are fighting over something and sounding like children. "No! Come on, you two! Grow up! You know better!"

...or characters who want something so desperately that they go completely over the edge after it, alienating everyone around them, and messing up their relationships and lives.
To which I'm muttering, "Oh, come on, girl. Open your eyes. You're just being ridiculous."

...but the woman sells like gazillions. And is loved by gazillions.
Why?
Because she writes real people.

Real people who are snotty at times.
Who are immature. Who are vindictive. Who are stubborn. Who give up on something way too soon, or who push so hard for something that they trample on everyone in their lives. Who let themselves be led down primrose paths, or who "chicken out" before they even get to the path in the first place. Who can be myopic, and oversensitive, and miss the obvious when it's standing right in front of them, painted in 10-foot-high red letters.

In other words, they act like we all do at times.
And somehow, they end up in a happy-ever-after ending anyway.
Because they do figure out that they're wrong...before they can't redeem themselves, or the situation, or the relationship, or...

But writing people who do that takes a couple of things.
Talent, of course, first.
But even more, I think, than talent...it takes guts.
And patience. 
Because if you put your character in a mess of her own making, it's going to take time for her to clean up that mess, make amends, apologize, patch things back up, and get back to True North.
Time that you as an author have to give her.
Have to walk her through.
And, the whole time, have faith that your character will still be "likable" in the end, even if he or she's been a complete ass for several (or several dozen) pages.

Even if he or she's been...stupid.

In my latest book, I'm about to do that with my heroine.
I'm about to write her doing something I know is a bad idea.
She's even going to be told it's a bad idea.
But she's gonna do it anyway.
It scares me half out of my skin to be venturing into writing someone about to do this...
...because there's a very, very thin line between real...
...and TSTL.

And I don't want to cross it.

So, cover me, Goose. I'm goin' in.

Thoughts?
Janny

Monday, September 28, 2020

Art Imitating Life, Imitating Art, Imitating Life...

Every once in a while, you have one of those moments.

I used to call them, "Someone's following me around with a clipboard again." 

They happen when something around you, media-wise, world-wise, or other-wise (heh heh), reflects something you've thought, or done, so exactly that you wonder if someone's on your figurative heels,  taking notes.

I had one of those some time ago, in a way that will get your attention.
It happened when I heard of the death of Keith Emerson, of Emerson, Lake & Palmer.

For those of you who don't know who this guy was, trust me...he used to be the one lots of pianists wanted to be when we grew up. 😀 When it came to keyboards, the man could do anything...and frequently did. 

I never met the guy....but I felt a connection to him, nevertheless.
Because he was a direct inspiration for my first novel, FROM THE ASHES.
That book came about because I heard a story, decades ago, about how Emerson had lost a home he had--a castle, I want to say--to a fire, while he was out on tour
Now, can you imagine how desolate that must have felt?
To come "home" from the road...to discover you don't actually have a "home" anymore?

As I thought about it, my writer's "what-if" brain took over. And I thought, "What if the same thing happened to your musical life? What if, in effect, your musical career went up in flames in some way, and you had no "home" anymore? What would that do to you?"

Enter James Michael Goodwin, who in the first scene of FROM THE ASHES, has just finished his debut with the Boston Symphony, in which he's played his first Piano Concerto...but which also, no one else realizes, is his farewell to the stage. Because his hands have begun to succumb to arthritis and other debilitating conditions....and he's already losing his ability to play. When he also hits a composing "dry spell," he looks at his life and comes to believe his best days are already behind him. Thus, at the age of 31, he returns from his orchestral triumph, sits down, and puts a gun to his head.

In the book, of course, he's saved from death. (Or it'd be a very short book, indeed.) 

But fast-forward to 2016...and the real-life guy who inspired that scenario. 
As it turns out, that guy's hands are beginning to "go" on him, through a degenerative nerve disease. That guy actually is depressed and worried about upcoming performances...because he knows there's a day coming when he won't be able to play anymore like he used to--or maybe at all.
And thus, Keith Emerson, in the throes of that despair... sits down and puts a gun to his head.
Unfortunately, he's not in a novel. And he's not spared from death.

The "echo" quality of that sent a ripple through my mind, and my heart, that still hasn't ebbed.
Especially in the irony of how the man died...and why...
...when I had written, in effect, that very thing into a book inspired by him.

Sometimes, what we think is just "making stuff up"...has an uncanny way of ending up being a truth. An insight. A perception.
I just wish in this case it hadn't also been what almost feels like...prophetic.

RIP, Keith.
It was an honor. And...an inspiration.
And I won't ever take "inspiration" lightly... again.

Thoughts?
Janny

Happy Musical Monday, Beethoven Edition :-)

Your treat for Musical Monday: one master, played by another.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pXRpSu5oRjM

Leonard Bernstein is reputed to have said about Glenn Gould, "The kid is crazy, but he can play." And "the kid" was, in fact, a little "cray-cray."  But, yeah, he sure COULD play. 

Far as I'm concerned, this is THE definitive recording of this piece. Period.

And if I'm ever stranded on a desert island, I hope I have it along. 

Enjoy!
Janny

Monday, September 21, 2020

Monday, September 14, 2020

If This Doesn't Do Something Wonderful To You, Check Yourself For A Pulse.

 Ashkenazy plays Chopin...

I put this on Facebook, but it's worth repeating here.
The wonder of this is it's 48 YEARS OLD. And I'm just seeing it now. 

All I've got to say is...wow.

Thoughts?

Janny

Monday, September 07, 2020

What's On YOUR Bucket List?

OK, I'll admit it...this came about because some texting I was doing with my BFF/"sister" yesterday. But it's not been far from my thoughts for a while.  Because when you lose someone far too early in his life, as I lost Patrick, you inevitably think of all the things you'll never get to do together...and all the things he'll never do here on earth, from his own "bucket list." 

Which makes one want to sit back, breathe, and consider.

So...what's on YOUR bucket list?

Have you done some of the things that were already on it?
If so, how did they feel?
And what's left?

I often say I can "die happy" because I saw Samuel Ramey sing Figaro at Lyric Opera. Had I had a formal "bucket list," that would certainly have been on it. And seventeen rows back, main floor, is an experience of this man and his singing that I will never forget. 

But there are other things I've always "kidded around" that were on the list, too. Except that I'm kinda not kidding about them.

Vienna is there. Learning to tap dance is there. Taking cello lessons is there. And more might be coming...who knows? 

So...share. What's on YOUR list? What have you already done? Is there anything on the list that you think you really, really want to do, but in your heart of hearts don't really believe is possible? Or, conversely speaking...is there anything on the list that, right now, you're making concrete plans to ACCOMPLISH?

Let 'er rip in the comments below!
Janny