- So there I was driving my mom’s black Honda minivan, dropping off the Teenager at school.
- Metallica’s “Damage, Inc.” blasting through the van’s lame, tinny speakers.
- Wearing my old sunglasses (because they’re prescription and I have to have them.)
- Lamenting the lack of window tinting because, even in the best of times in the best of cars, I do not like people looking at me.
- (Not just in cars.)
- (Introverts! Unite!)
- (I know, no one is actually looking at me.)
- Thinking, “Dear lort, this is what my life has come to.”
- “Dude, why are you driving your mom’s minivan,” you might be thinking.
- I’m glad you imaginarily asked.
- (Let’s not unpack this … for now.)
- (Maybe someday.)
- (But notthenow.)
- I typically roll around in a black Subaru.
- 6-speed manual.
- Have not really kept up with the maintenance on it because that stuff is expensive.
- It recently hit the 100k mileage mark.
- So, it needed some care.
- And we need the car to be road-trip ready.
- The car does not have a timing belt, but a timing chain.
- So that’s nice.
- It got a tune-up, which was much less expensive than I was expecting.
- But there’s where the fun started.
- Got the tune-up, but then there were oil spots on my driveway.
- Took it back.
- Fixed.
- Took it home.
- A/C did not work.
- Took it back.
- Fixed.
- Took it home.
- On the way home, getting on the highway, the thing started backfiring, the throttle cut out, and the check engine light came on.
- Took it back.
- I do not believe this is the garage’s fault, mind you.
- Sometimes, when you monkey with a thing that’s been fine, you mess it up worse.
- That’s probably in a life manual somewhere.
- “If it ain’t broke …”
- What I’m saying is that … I hate cars now.
- And I used to be a gearhead.
- I miss my first car something awful.
- (Was a 1967 Camaro.)
- I sold it my freshman year of college because I could not afford to drive it.
- Thing only got like six or seven miles to the gallon.
- It shook the earth at stoplights.
- And was wicked fast in the quarter mile.
- Also, I could actually fix it myself.
- I could crawl under that car and swap the starter in less than 15 minutes without any help.
- Opening the hood on the Subaru?
- Yeah, no.
- Anyway, I could not rebuy the Camaro now for less than $25,000.
- Should’ve just thrown it under a tarp at my parents’ house.
- Live and learn.
- Yesterday, I had occasion to do some word-swapping of Coleridge’s “Rime of the Ancient Mariner” on social media.
- Being a word nerd in high school …
- Okay, being a nerd in high school, I loved that poem.
- First, Iron Maiden made it into a 15-minute song.
- Second, it totally vibes with D&D.
- Anyway, stuck with me.
- “As idle as a painted ship upon a painted ocean.”
- I’m going to go out on a limb and say the Teenager has never seen that poem.
- Shakespeare came up on the ride to school today.
- Me: “Have you read any Shakespeare?”
- Her: “Not in high school.”
- Me: “What?! When was the last time?”
- Her: “Middle school.”
- Me: “What was it?”
- Her: “Othello.”
- Me (internally): “What?!”
- Me (aloud): “So no MacBeth? What about Midsummer Night’s Dream?”
- Her: “We did that in elementary school, but I’m sure it was a simpler version.”
- Me: …
- Dropped her off. Made a mental note to text my oldest friend, because he’s just about to retire from teaching English.
- *The following is edited for work.
- Me: “Do you guys still teach Shakespeare in high school?”
- Him: “I think so. We still had it when I was still teaching English.”
- (He’s been teaching speech/communications the past couple of years.)
- Me: “The Teenager has not done any Shakespeare since middle school.”
- Him: “I’m pretty sure Romeo and Juliet is still on the Freshman curriculum.”
- Me: “She has never done that one. Or MacBeth.”
- Him: “It’s moved to more skill-based reading. Just passages. Not much full works. The English teachers don’t like it either.”
- Me: “I don’t imagine they would.”
- Him: “There’s been a push for ‘future read skills.’ Reading endurance has all but been abandoned.”
- (Here is where I’d swear a lot.)
- Back to the front … I’m not picking on Minivans.
- They are terribly useful vehicles.
- I just … never saw myself in one?
- It violates my self-image?
- They are not me.
- I’m not picking on you minivan enthusiasts, is what I’m saying.
- You do you.
- I have a list of things to which I will not go gently.
- Minivans are on there.
- So are white tennis shoes.
- I have issues, man.
- This is known.
- DID YOU KNOW … if you are playing Spotify when you join a Teams meeting, it’ll broadcast that music to the room?
- … Ask me how I know!
- Good gravy.
- I’m outta here.
- Have a Wednesday.
Tag: books
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Car Trouble
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info dump
Here’s the kinds of conversations I get into with Kaia, just don’t ask me how they get started.
Out of the blue yesterday, or perhaps the day before, she said, “I really don’t like first-person.”
I said, “Some of my favorite books are written in first-person, but I’ve always thought about it as a cheat.” I think one of my writing profs in college called it that and it stuck. Or screwed up my brain. I do not like writing fiction in first-person. Always third-person limited.
And then we went on from there for a good 10 minutes.
Here’s the thing. Everyone has opinions, right? But opinions don’t make you … right. In terms of writing, I default to calling my opinions preferences. Because I am not a published author. What the hell does my opinion amount to?
If you ever want to have a fun time as a reader, get into some of the forums and subreddits about writing and publishing. Lots of unsolicited advice.
Some of the fun stuff that always makes me chuckle … how long do you give a book before you bail on it? As a reader, if you know, you know. I’m apt to bail on a book even before I finish Chapter 1, and I can’t always tell you why. The kid has this mental mandate to finish any book she starts. She’s young. She’ll get over it.
Sometimes, the story does not hook me. Sometimes, it’s the prose. Sometimes, it’s how they handle internal monologue, which ultimately is why we’re gathered here today.
There’s a trend it seems in modern fiction for authors to include huge paragraphs of internal monologue in third-person. Paragaphs that span pages of tell, but not show. I have no patience for it.
For instance, Olivie Blake’s The Atlas Six. I made it through the first book, but by the second, I could not handle it anymore. I want things to actually happen in the stories I read. I do not want to spend the majority of a chapter sitting there watching a character think. Shit should be going down, man. Set the scenario, give your character something to react to, and then show us how they react. Simple stuff, really.
Show, don’t tell, is one of those subjects in writing that’s talked about all the time, and it sure feels like many modern published authors are not getting the message, or not being taught about it properly, or something. I hate it. I skim/skip pages, which even a decade ago I would’ve thought was one of the worst offenses a reader could commit.
An argument can be made for exposition, I guess. They’re using these huge internal monologues to convey information about their worlds and their characters history.
I’m in the William Gibson school on that. Throw your readers into the fire and let them figure it out as they go, like a constantly unwrapping present. Don’t explain it, let the world and narrative show it to them. It creates that feeling of anticipation and discovery far better than a goddamn info dump. Show them your world.
I’m reading like … six books … at the moment. Mostly because I’m having reading a.d.d., maybe?
- Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, Hunter S. Thompson (haven’t read it since ‘94?)
- Servant of the Shard, R.A. Salvatore
- Burn to Shine, Jonathan Maberry (just finished that one)
- #NSFW, Tosca Fasso
- The Third Rule of Time Travel, Phillip Fracassi
- The Gate of the Feral Gods, Matt Dinniman
The difference in styles is crazy. One of those is a work manifesto, so not fiction at all, but I find myself studying and comparing … writing styles? Makes me wonder what doing an MFA in creative writing would’ve done to me. At the very least, it would’ve taught me how to finish writing a goddamn book. Probably.
(No, I cannot write these kinds of things without swearing. Also wtf am I going to do with this when I’m finished with it?)
Anyway, this morning, I made the decision to leave my phone in the bedroom on the charger. I’ve spent too much time on my Spring Break looking at the damn thing. I trundled out to the couch, sat down, talked to Steph a bit, and then noticed Kaia’s copy of The Deathly Hallows sitting next to me. She’s got the whole thing marked up, colored post-it note tabs sticking out all over the place.
Picked it up, opened it to a random spot, and started reading. The spot turned out to be where Harry, Ron, and Hermione (almost left out my Oxford comma right there, which is another conversation the kid and I have had recently) are going in to question Olivander about the Elder Wand.
I have not reread the Potter series in at least a decade, and my memory of Rowling’s prose was slippy. Adverbs and the like. What I just read this morning? Not bad at all. I’d even go so far as to call it pretty good. Sure, it’s book seven. But in this particular scene, she’s info-dumping wandlore, but it’s not a whole page of anything. It comes out through conversation in the midst of scene demanded by the story. It’s … well done.
I mean, Rowling? Really?
I may sit here and read this freaking book today. Harry Potter and the Properly Written Prose.
Happy Spring Break, y’all!
skepticlysm 