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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!)

Monday, October 26, 2020

31,432 words...and counting!

We pause here for a very brief update on MY BROTHER'S KEEPER, which is the book I'm presently writing...again...for something like the eighth time. Only this time, I'm trying to do it RIGHT. (LOL) And, since the gadget I was using to measure the word count graphically for some reason isn't working anymore...we have to do updates the old-fashioned way.  (!)

I've written at least one rabbit trail that I've corrected, taken out several scenes that deal with things I don't really want to reveal yet, and am moving this story along way too slowly, I suspect...so I'll have to do what I can to up the pace. But at only 31K words out of a proposed length around 85K, I suspect the progress I'm making is not going to be wasted, either. I'm spending a lot of time right now getting to know my hero and heroine better than I ever have before. Which means the story will eventually start to take on that "inevitable" feeling that good stories have: that (as my critique partner once said about FROM THE ASHES) "given these characters, what you've written is the only way the story could go."

That kind of wonderful "inevitability" takes time...and the occasional rabbit trail.
But when it happens...oh, my, the magic of it!

Meanwhile, we spend our time writing scenes...and then asking ourselves what comes next.

More to come (about 45K words' worth, to be exact),
Janny

Happy Musical Monday!

The first time I heard this version of this piece, I was behind the wheel of the car...and I was lucky I didn't have to pull over.  Because halfway through it, I was sobbing. (And cheering. And pounding the steering wheel in sheer exuberance.)

Yeah, it's fast.
Yeah, it gets faster.
And yeah, this is the way a bacchanale SHOULD sound.

The magnificent Berlin Philharmonic, at your service.
Enjoy!

Janny

Monday, October 19, 2020

Happy Musical Monday: the "desert island" song...

You know what I mean. It's the answer to the question, "If you were stranded on a desert island and you could only take one song with you...?"

This is mine. 

R.I.P., Dan.
We miss you.

Thoughts?
Janny



Monday, October 12, 2020

Happy Musical Monday!

For those of you who either don't hang out at Facebook to pick this up off my author page...or who can't get enough of Tchaikovsky, ever, anyway:


Enjoy!

Janny

Sunday, October 11, 2020

Sexism, Piano Players, and...Enough, Already

Question: when is "sexism" not really present in an observation?
Answer: when it's simply an honest opinion.  

A tangle of this nature happened to me on Instagram, when a video snippet was posted of a young female pianist supposedly playing on "Ocean" etude, next to the ocean...on a piano, outdoors, on the beach, as the waves swept over the sand. The young woman wore a gown that was pretty skimpy--think a deep neckline and very short skirt--bare feet, and long black hair that she felt compelled to swing around "expressively" while she pantomimed "playing" the music involved.

Now, so much was wrong with and/or irritating about this that it was hard to catalogue it all!
Most people took umbrage with having a piano outdoors next to the ocean, of course--since salt and water are both deadly to a piano, and don't have to take a great deal of time to be so, either.
Some people took umbrage with the young lady's skimpy clothing.
Some people took umbrage with the bombastic playing, such that it was--the snippet was only seconds long, and clearly had NOT been a result of actually recording said playing on the beach!
I put up a comment along the lines of "Bring the piano indoors, put more clothes on, and be aware that swinging your hair expressively is little or no indication as to how much talent you have."

Now, that's a snarky comment. I admit it. And it had been fueled by a sip or two of vino, which I was enjoying outdoors on my deck while scrolling through social media. 
But it wasn't the snarkiest, by any means. Trust me.
But, of course, I got called on the carpet for it.
Not for being mean about someone's playing....but because I'd dared to say, "put more clothes on."
And called on the carpet, not surprisingly, by a young woman.
Ranting at me--and anyone else who said that--for how sexist that remark was.

To which I answered, "It's not sexist...it's practical."
(And it was. Trying to actually play in the outfit this young woman wore would have been uncomfortable at the very least--since part of it was wet from ocean splashes--and could have been embarrassing, to boot.)

But, yanno, that wasn't the right answer.
Because then the comeback was about how the outfit was "more than most people would wear on the beach."
To which I just sat, for a moment, openmouthed.

Hello?
We weren't talking about someone spending a day at the beach.
We were talking about a woman supposedly playing a concert piece there.
For which she should have been dressed differently, and would have, had she actually been PLAYING there.
Which I tried to point out.

But, yanno, that wasn't the right answer, either.
In fact, my answer got called an uncomplimentary name, and I was promptly lectured about how we as women are supposed to support each other, not tear each other down. I wouldn't have told a MAN to go put more clothes on or not flip his hair around!
To which I said, "Um, yeah, actually, I would. Because empty showmanship is empty showmanship, no matter who does it."
And after that, I blocked the child from throwing any more tantrums my way.

Can I say right here and now, as a woman, how SICK I am of the whole notion that simply because a musician, writer, artist, performer, or such is a woman, I'm automatically supposed to never criticize her at all, in any way, for any thing? No matter how weak her performance might be, how it might inadvertently convey the wrong notion about women in the arts in general, or because it just plain does something I think is stupid?

In other words, I'm not supposed to judge a fellow female on the same level as I would a man?

For heaven's sake, WHY NOT?

Aren't we past the time of needing to be coddled snowflakes, ladies?
Aren't we able to stand on our own two feet and compete with the guys in the jungle?
Isn't that what "equality" is supposed to be all about?
So then WHY DO WE KEEP EXPECTING SPECIAL TREATMENT?
Especially FROM EACH OTHER?

I'm sorry to shout here...but I've had it with this nonsense.
Were women "oppressed" in days gone past? Of course, they were.
(Not nearly to the extent that most feminists believe, by the way. But, yeah...they were.)
Are women "oppressed" even today, in some cultures? Of course, they are. 
(Look to the Middle East, specifically Saudi Arabia and such countries, and the prohibitions women still accept will make your hair curl. Or can't I say that, because that's sexist, too?)

But the remedy for that isn't to put Pollyanna-smiles on and pretend everything we do is  just perfect because we're women, either. If I do something wrong, I do something wrong. Or incorrect. Or stupid.  And if a man would get called on it...then,  I'm going to expect to get called on it, too.
Or what are we saying about how "strong" we women really are?

I encountered this nonsense in RWA, years ago, and it made me grind my teeth even then.
But then, there was also the added layer of romances being "politically incorrect" at the time--in that they supposedly showed strong women, assertive women, women who enjoyed sex, whatever--and that was "threatening" to a male-dominated culture. So not only was the overt demand made that we support and cheer on ANYTHING these fellow writers did, because they were women...but because romance writing was "important" and "shaping the culture."

The bad part was? WE ALL KNEW BETTER.
We all knew that most of the "politically incorrect" blather was just that: blather.

We all knew there was a swackload of derivative, cookie-cutter, sex-is-the-plot-here books out there that had little to no cultural enrichment value whatsoever--being written by some of the biggest names in the business.

We all knew there was a lot of DRECK out there calling itself "romance."

We all knew that, by and large, a lot of the "ripping" that critics did of our books had little to do with "bodices" and a lot more to do with the fact that, sometimes, the books simply weren't very good. 
For most of us, it was okay that they weren't literature. They weren't "meaningful social commentary." They were beach books, or passing-around-your-friends books, or just a fun escape. The good ones were entertainment; the bad ones were sometimes really, REALLY embarrassing.

But we weren't allowed to SAY ANY OF THAT...or we weren't being "supportive."
We couldn't even say, "Well some of these aren't all that great," except OFF the record, where NO ONE would possibly overhear us and take offense...
...which was pretty much impossible to do, say, at a writers' conference...
...where, ironically enough, many of us were going to share honest feedback, war stories, and the state of how things actually were.

So, we were in the state of KNOWING better--and privately expressing such to each other--while being expected to publicly toe the party line.
And woe to you if you didn't.
Your entire writing career could hang in the balance, or so you were told.

It was hypocrisy then, and the downhill plunge of much of what calls itself romance fiction since then has been the clear, obvious, and logical result.
And we probably still aren't supposed to say it.

But the fact remains...that some of us are really, really good artists.
Some of us are average.
Some of us are awful.
And it's OK to say so.
To differentiate.
Yes, even if it's a woman who's putting dreck up online and expecting us to applaud it.
It's not "supportive" to lie and pretend that everything we all do is always and unabashedly WONDERFUL...
...simply because we don't have a Y chromosome.

THAT, ladies, is actual sexism in action.
Not the other way around.
And it's long past damn time we accepted the responsibility of being really...truly...EQUAL.
Bumps, bruises, criticism, scars, and all. Like the GUYS already have to. 

It'll only make us all better in the long run.
And isn't that what "support" is actually supposed to do?

Thoughts?
Janny

Sunday, October 04, 2020

A Loving Message to the Master

N.B.:  I put this on my Facebook page, too...but just in case GG doesn't DO Facebook....here goes. :-)

A message for Glenn Gould, wherever you are in the hereafter:

Dear Mr. Gould...
...Sir...
...a consummate artist like yourself...
...is there a REASON you don't observe the very clearly written REPEAT sign in the first movement of the Pathetique Sonata?
...did you talk it over with Herr Beethoven beforehand?...
...or are you perhaps talking it over with him now...
...and giggling because stumbling piano players such as I can't figure out WHAT JUST HAPPENED?

Any illumination on this, kind sir, would be appreciated.

Yours,
Janny