Tuesday, October 28, 2014
I have no idea how long it's been since I started working on my writing voice. I remember a college paper getting marked down for my 'exuberant' tone. Obviously I had my priorities straight! I feel a lot more confident about my voice now than I did then, but it doesn't change one important thing. I still have to find a blogging voice.
Blogging has been an adventure. As I've been doing this I've been struggling to develop the ability to speak engagingly but authentically. Being authentic to myself isn't something that's really important when writing novels. I need to be true to my characters and my story. My narrator's voice matches the voice of the characters, especially in first person. While it has flavors of me it's not me, not completely.
In blogging I need to be myself. The trouble is that the real me is nowhere near as engaging as the narrators I come up with. I'm sometimes funny, but I can also get really technical. Or whiny. Or brain dead. Do I want to portray that on my blog?
The answer for me is yes. I guess I don't feel confident enough in my 'skills' to try to create a new person. I can maintain a voice over the course of a novel. I don't think I can maintain a fake me indefinitely. I'd rather run the risk of not engaging readers by being myself.
I'm not saying that's the only choice, just that it's mine. Like all things it's an experiment. Wish me luck!
Tuesday, October 21, 2014
Her Split Second duology is about the Compound, a place where people with special abilities live in a culture advanced from their counterparts in the US. Addie is the heroine, although her friend Layla gets viewpoint scenes in book two. The story matches Addie’s special abilities. It’s told in two stories, as Addie looks into the future to see what choice she should make. Both are fascinating and the final decisions is as heartbreaking as it is necessary.
Addie is fun and different as a character. She’s conscientious to a fault, something you don’t come across very often in a YA character. As she challenges her own assumptions she grows as a person, making me as the reader very proud of her. Layla is a bit more traditional. She’s rebellious, pretty, and loud. But where she shines is when West shows you who she really is underneath. Her ultimate love story in Pivot Point hit all the right notes for me.
The books are well paced and well drawn. The world felt absolute. It was rich and deep but never commanded the story. It felt like something that was obviously real as soon as I was introduced to it, which sounds boring but was in fact a masterful stroke.
The series feels like this could extend even though the major plot lines are wrapped up. If West never returns to the world I would still enjoy that aspect. It feels like it’s continuing without us. Maybe someday we’ll get a different window inside.
Tuesday, October 14, 2014
It’s interesting how something I read that has little or nothing to do with what I’m living or writing can change how I think. I was reading a book about Queen Isabella of England. She was a medieval British queen who was often called the She-Wolf of France (not in a nice way. People had a thing against strong women). She held power for only a few brief years, after which her lover was murdered. Having been in a loveless marriage for seventeen years and spending more then thirty years in “retirement” afterwards that period of time where she was free must have seemed so brief. In the middle of it did she think it would never end? That she could be free to love who she wanted, rule as she’d hoped, and never fear someone’s power over her? All of those ended abruptly in a coup that wrecked everything. She lost her money, her power, her unborn child and it’s father. The words of the poets have attributed this saying to her: Now, Mortimer, begins our tragedy*.
How many of us will begin our tragedy? Having survived storms I find myself terrified of enduring another one. I must live my life with the knowledge that every good thing that I receive or build can be lost in an instant. Yet if I keep that awareness of tribulation I risk souring the times when it’s not around. It’s one of the paradox’s of being human, knowledge mixed with action and inaction.
At the same time we struggle with reading about truly tragic characters. Yes they may experience dark times, but the end always needs to be a happily ever after. The problems is that I’m not sure what constitutes a happily ever after, and I’m really not sure that they’re the best thing for all our stories.
It’s a difficult world we live in. No human being makes it through unscathed. How that comes across in the stories we tell shows more about us then our characters.
*from the play Edward the Second by Christopher Marlowe.