Yes. Yes. The intention here was for me to write about book releases for the coming year. But since this is New Year's Day and you are either A) still asleep or B) hung over, I am comfortably certain the sole person reading this blog post (and noting that I'm punting the rules) is my mother. And her philosophy can be summed up thusly: Write what you want.
So yeah.
What am I looking forward to? Not books. Not movies. Not TV shows. Because that way lies disappointment and bitter tears. I'd rather not get my hopes up for something only to have them dashed to pieces. I'd rather be pleasantly - even fantastically - surprised rather than tossed into the pit of missed story opportunities despair. This is a relatively recent thing for me. I *used* to get all worked up in advance for events (books, movies, TV) but, alas, I've been betrayed a few times and now, I hoard my emotional energy for losing my shit at the time I read/see/experience something. That said, I have tickets to the January Sherlock event. I am secretly looking forward to it. If my expectations are crushed beneath Benedict Cumberpatch's period boots someone may have to talk me down from the cinema's roof.
The real thing I'm looking forward to in 2016 is the SCIENCE. 2015 was a stellar year for science. Water on Mars. Amazing images and geology from Pluto. Earth 2.0. In 2016 I desperately want a fossil from Mars - a single celled organism would be fine. Don't care. A LIVE critter is too much to ask just yet. Unless the Big Foot rock decides to take a stroll across Curiosity's field of view. I'd love confirmation of those proposed ice volcanos on Pluto. I'd kill for hints of pollution in the atmosphere of Earth 2.0. Eh. Listen to me. Getting all greedy again. Yes. I want to be alive when life is found out there in the universe. So hey. Why not this year??
I'm also looking forward to each of you having a healthy, prosperous New Year full of joy.
Showing posts with label Science. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Science. Show all posts
Friday, January 1, 2016
Friday, April 26, 2013
Justifying Procrastination
GAH! I nearly missed doing my post at all this week. NOT because of procrastination. Because, for freaking once, I am not engaged in some lame displacement activity. I'm finishing a book. That's due Tuesday. And that has no ending. Yet.
But I'm writing. All day long. Bashing my brain against the intractable 'why isn't this scene working' questions, and listening to the characters whispering when I finally collapse in exhaustion at night. For the record, they now shower with me, too, and I've taken to carrying a sticky pad and a pen in my shower bag to catch what they say the second I have a towel wrapped around me.
However. It's possible I'm in this position because of previous procrastination. My favorite? Pseudo-science on TV. Real science on TV. Anything that *could* be true and that would be 100% freaky if it were. Yes. I'm talking mega-tsunamis, conspiracy theories and 'the aliens are among us' diatribes. Ghosts, assorted monsters, Atlantis - it's all great procrastination stuff.
Two reasons for that.
1. I can turn it on and do the dishes while it plays - I 'learn' something AND get chores done at the same time. That's efficient, right?
2. All of these shows are fuel for the fiction fire.
See? Totally justifiable. Now. If you'll excuse the lack of eye candy and the tardiness of this post, some characters are summoning me back between the sheets. Of virtual paper.
But I'm writing. All day long. Bashing my brain against the intractable 'why isn't this scene working' questions, and listening to the characters whispering when I finally collapse in exhaustion at night. For the record, they now shower with me, too, and I've taken to carrying a sticky pad and a pen in my shower bag to catch what they say the second I have a towel wrapped around me.
However. It's possible I'm in this position because of previous procrastination. My favorite? Pseudo-science on TV. Real science on TV. Anything that *could* be true and that would be 100% freaky if it were. Yes. I'm talking mega-tsunamis, conspiracy theories and 'the aliens are among us' diatribes. Ghosts, assorted monsters, Atlantis - it's all great procrastination stuff.
Two reasons for that.
1. I can turn it on and do the dishes while it plays - I 'learn' something AND get chores done at the same time. That's efficient, right?
2. All of these shows are fuel for the fiction fire.
See? Totally justifiable. Now. If you'll excuse the lack of eye candy and the tardiness of this post, some characters are summoning me back between the sheets. Of virtual paper.
Friday, January 18, 2013
The Curse of the Professional
Any time you become a professional at something, your perception of that something is forever and unutterably altered. The something you once enjoyed as an amateur is now your job - you've staked your financial solvency on mastering your particular something. Therefore, in the pursuit of your ten thousand hours, if you buy author Malcolm Gladwell's assertion that any task requires that much practice to produce mastery, you analyze. You analyze others. You analyze yourself. And the pasttime that once gave you so much enjoyment and relaxation is now work. Hard work.
Thus it is with reading fiction for me. Movies, TV shows, and plays are the same. This is because I'm a slow learner, you see. I went to acting school, thereby destroying my ability to get lost in a show of any kind, ever again. Except Cirque du Soleil. No hope I could do what those performers do. So I'm free to sit back and be carried away by the show.
For the longest time, I wrote stories without sacrificing my ability to get lost in someone else's prose. In fact, thinking back, it wasn't until I was writing to deadlines that I realized I HAD to stop reading fiction while I was drafting. If I didn't, I ended up sounding like whoever I was reading. Not good. It was also about that time that I realized that *while* I was in the middle of reading a novel, everything was fine. But after I closed the back cover? All hell would break loose in my head. Analyzing. Re-analyzing. Comparing how the author I'd just read handled x issue to how I dealt with a similiar issue in my work. Depending on where I was in the process of getting a WIP on paper, someone else's novel (particularly really good ones) could paralyze me for days and days, because just look at how fabulous the story is! I could never do that well! Why can't I write like that? Waa, waa, waa.
So I stopped. No more fiction while I'm drafting. I'm too neurotic and fragile while getting down the bones of a story. Don't like it, but there it is. I'm trying to deal with what is. And, frankly, I can't afford a few days of second-guessing paralysis. So I reserve all of the tasty novels I want to devour for rewriting, editing, and copy-editing times. While I'm drafting, I read science. It's not news to anyone here that I have a potentially unhealthy addiction to science-y nonfiction. Hard science, psychology, sociology - it's all interesting to me. It's all interesting because it's all potential story fodder. Which is, yes, an admission that I've changed how I read those books, too, I guess. I take notes. I underline. I dog-ear pages. Put down the pitchfork. I only do that to books I own. And now that we're talking about Kindle editions, I'm satisfied with bookmarks and digital underlines. Anything so I can find the tidbits that piqued my storybrain's interest.
Thing is, even though I'm underlining and bookmarking, I'm at my ease reading these books. I get sucked in and pulled along until a bit of information or an idea arrests me - but even that's vastly enjoyable. I'm relaxed. I'm happy. And I feel like I might be learning something worth knowing. Sure. Occassionally, I hit upon a 'science' book that is unintentionally comedic because of the sensationalist tone or the plainly bad science. The book upon which "The Day After Tomorrow" was based leaps to mind...
When I'm done with my rough draft, out come the novels. I fill up on other people's words and characters and plots. For some reason, once I'm rewriting, I'm far less prone to second-guessing. I might still lament that I'll never write as beautifully as some of my favorite authors, but at least I'm not paralyzed with self-doubt. Usually.
Thus it is with reading fiction for me. Movies, TV shows, and plays are the same. This is because I'm a slow learner, you see. I went to acting school, thereby destroying my ability to get lost in a show of any kind, ever again. Except Cirque du Soleil. No hope I could do what those performers do. So I'm free to sit back and be carried away by the show.
For the longest time, I wrote stories without sacrificing my ability to get lost in someone else's prose. In fact, thinking back, it wasn't until I was writing to deadlines that I realized I HAD to stop reading fiction while I was drafting. If I didn't, I ended up sounding like whoever I was reading. Not good. It was also about that time that I realized that *while* I was in the middle of reading a novel, everything was fine. But after I closed the back cover? All hell would break loose in my head. Analyzing. Re-analyzing. Comparing how the author I'd just read handled x issue to how I dealt with a similiar issue in my work. Depending on where I was in the process of getting a WIP on paper, someone else's novel (particularly really good ones) could paralyze me for days and days, because just look at how fabulous the story is! I could never do that well! Why can't I write like that? Waa, waa, waa.
So I stopped. No more fiction while I'm drafting. I'm too neurotic and fragile while getting down the bones of a story. Don't like it, but there it is. I'm trying to deal with what is. And, frankly, I can't afford a few days of second-guessing paralysis. So I reserve all of the tasty novels I want to devour for rewriting, editing, and copy-editing times. While I'm drafting, I read science. It's not news to anyone here that I have a potentially unhealthy addiction to science-y nonfiction. Hard science, psychology, sociology - it's all interesting to me. It's all interesting because it's all potential story fodder. Which is, yes, an admission that I've changed how I read those books, too, I guess. I take notes. I underline. I dog-ear pages. Put down the pitchfork. I only do that to books I own. And now that we're talking about Kindle editions, I'm satisfied with bookmarks and digital underlines. Anything so I can find the tidbits that piqued my storybrain's interest.
Thing is, even though I'm underlining and bookmarking, I'm at my ease reading these books. I get sucked in and pulled along until a bit of information or an idea arrests me - but even that's vastly enjoyable. I'm relaxed. I'm happy. And I feel like I might be learning something worth knowing. Sure. Occassionally, I hit upon a 'science' book that is unintentionally comedic because of the sensationalist tone or the plainly bad science. The book upon which "The Day After Tomorrow" was based leaps to mind...
When I'm done with my rough draft, out come the novels. I fill up on other people's words and characters and plots. For some reason, once I'm rewriting, I'm far less prone to second-guessing. I might still lament that I'll never write as beautifully as some of my favorite authors, but at least I'm not paralyzed with self-doubt. Usually.
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