Interesting link about creativity in the brain

This article discusses some interesting research now being done on how creativity is expressed in the brain. Plus, it's always useful to know what to do with a brick!

An interesting resource for naming fictional countries

I ran across this link yesterday and it struck me immediately as a great source of ideas for worldbuilders. It's a map of our world - but the countries are labeled with literal translations of their names. I have been discussing this on Facebook, and a few of the translations have come into question - for example Aliette de Bodard pointed out that a better translation for Vietnam might be Southern People rather than Southern Land - but still it's valuable from a worldbuilding point of view. If you've ever felt held back by the idea of naming yet another country either randomly or by calling it "land of the people," this will give you some ideas for alternate approaches.

Also, when naming countries keep in mind that not all countries keep the names given to them by the indigenous people who live there - some have names superimposed by their more powerful neighbors!

Social Labels: YA and beyond!

Latchkey kids. Jocks. Nerds. Stoners. Fuzzies. Techies. Geeks. Divas.

Not all of these terms may be ones you've used, but you've probably heard most of them. They're labels for social groups. According to Wikipedia, "Latchkey kid" originated as a term in 1944 because of an NBC documentary. Jocks, nerds and stoners were commonly used terms around my high school. Fuzzies and Techies were labels at Stanford university for students in humanities vs. math/science. Geeks is a term I'm still coming to terms with as it is used for sf/f fans. Divas is a more modern term applied to girls of a certain stripe.

One of the things I've noticed and rather admired about YA books is their sensitivity to labels like this. Labels are big with teens, so for example when I see Scott Westerfeld titles - Uglies, Pretties, Specials, just to name a few - they speak "real" to me.

I think social labels deserve attention even outside of YA. SF has a few, but could always use more; even epic fantasy wouldn't suffer from some attention to these fine social distinctions and how they are marked.

The term "latchkey kid" came up in a discussion I had with the marvelous Deborah J. Ross yesterday. I was writing along in For Love, For Power and realized that two of my characters had something in common: both were children growing up in the care of their household servants rather than in care of their parents, because of laws that require them to stay in the capital for their own health and safety while their parents had been appointed to positions running other cities. While I was thinking about what that meant to them, it hit me that this wasn't an uncommon condition in Varin. It would have a label.

Deborah Ross and I tossed some things around, including the real-world-grounded terms "latchkey kid" and "rugrat" etc. to get some ideas. These terms need a certain ring to them, and can't be too complex. Also, I realized that there would be at least two terms for the same group: one that would be a relatively value-neutral term, and one that could be used insultingly. In the end I chose these:

leadership orphan - This is the relatively value-neutral term. It's very self-explanatory, which is important, because I can't use a bunch of words explaining it. But it's only relatively value-neutral, because "orphan" evokes sympathy for the kids in this condition.

Household brat - This is the insulting term (no surprise). I chose brat over rat because the animals in Varin aren't entirely congruent with ours. Brat is insulting by nature, but it's also insulting to juxtapose it with Household, because it implies that a noble child is being "run" by his own servants.

I've said before that there's value in considering the social subgroups within larger "types" of people. In "Cold Words," the Aurrel were divided into heavy-furred and Lowland groups, and this had consequences for the usage of the words "cold" and "warm" throughout the language. In "At Cross Purposes," the Cochee-coco were divided into groups by their chosen Purpose, and this influenced their work and thinking processes. Varin is my mega-world, and it has groups (castes), and subgroups (Great Families of the nobility), and sub- subgroups (leadership orphans/Household brats)! But why not? We have far more ways to label people, both to good and to notably ill effect.

How do the people in your world label each other socially? Are there general categories of people? How do those people get subdivided and labeled? Who gets scorn? Who gets the prestige?

It's something worth thinking about.

Interesting link about character

Here's a link to an interesting discussion of characters and how to get people to engage more deeply with them, from agent Donald Maass.

Critique is about the readers

I'm a person who loves critique. Whenever I have a story done (or sometimes even when I don't have it done) I find a writing friend willing to look at it and send it over for their comments. I have learned so much through critique that I wouldn't do it any other way.

For me, the only bad critique is one that doesn't speak specifically about the text or story elements - one that attacks me personally or one so vague I can't make anything out of it. A critique that criticizes, or even one that makes me think "gee, he didn't get it!" is still valuable.

When somebody doesn't get it, it's important to ask why. That lack of understanding happened because the reader missed the boat somewhere - and that's why I think it's important to go back and take a look, to try to figure out what precisely it was that left them behind. Some missing clue, that if it had been there, would have saved this person from their misconception.

It's really important to remember that when we read, much of what we understand of the text comes from our own minds. Each word activates in our brains the set of meanings that the word has built up for itself over all the instances of its use in our experience. Story elements evoke emotions based on our experience. Every time we read, we bring ourselves to the story.

Obviously, this affects critique. I once had a friend read my beginner novel and tell me he thought I should have matched up the characters differently - X should have hooked up with A, and Y with B, not the other way around. I still don't agree with him! But what I can do is when I go back to get that novel right, I can make sure I put lots of evidence in for why my solution is the better idea.

If you ever find yourself writing off a critique for a reason like, "That person isn't a genre reader," you might want to reconsider. Who do you want to read your work? Is it only for the specialist reader of sf/f, or cosy mystery? Great works will transcend and be readable by a larger audience. In a sense each time you offer your work for critique, you're testing out a potential group of readers. If all your readers fall into the same group, you may not learn as much as if you give the work to different kinds of readers. Literary readers. Romance readers. Science fiction readers. Fantasy readers. Their opinions will give you a glimpse into what others of their tastes might think, and chances are there will be a way for you both to maintain your artistic vision and to make them feel more welcome in your world.

I think that's something worth striving for.

Wednesday Worldbuilding Workshop: Macro- and micro-grounding

Welcome back to Wednesday Worldbuilding Workshop! Today's entry comes from an anonymous poster. As usual, I'll start by coloring the words from which I pull worldbuilding information, and then after that I'll put in my comments.

Here are the worldbuilding words marked in blue:

***
Ben stepped onto the dark, gritty sand taking in a breath of the cool sea air. His next stop had to be the Casino; not that type of casino, more the main social venue in town, although some card playing was going on. An awful lot of noisy domino playing could be heard coming from the rear of the bar, where the few remaining fishermen and assorted locals gather for a mid-morning chinwag. It felt as though there was an uneasy peace between those on a short stay, those on a long-term sojourn and the more established residents. No doubt there was a pecking order, but Ben had neither the curiosity nor the patience to investigate such matters at the moment. He sat with the other tourists and day-trippers next to the window which looked out onto the esplanade. His coffee arrived quickly; but did nothing to calm his nerves. Eating was out of the question; luckily he’d managed to force down breakfast on the plane, more out of boredom than hunger.
The walk along the seafront was refreshingly pleasant, Ben felt as though he were on holiday. If only this stroll along the prom could be part of a relaxing break, rather than part of an elaborate plan, a web that dragged him in and dragged him down to depths he had never cared to inhabit. All through his grubby career he had worked on his own, a gun for hire, the lone wolf, a known quantity, just like a respected version of the unibomber without any links and not a killer who would send out half-crazed manifestos. In the beginning there had been a warped idealism, but now it was for money. This one had come out of a chance meeting with a crazy German in a backstreet bar in Girona.
He claimed his name was Hans, or did they all just get called Hans or Fritz when they fronted up on the Costa Brava. The chat started with the usual stuff about music rather than football. Two guys in their forties talking about the lamentable state of the tunes nowadays, they were both fans of krautrock, so what did they knows about tunes and melody. Hans was tall, but not gangly. He was good-looking, but not overtly, people might glance at him, but would then avert their gaze after a passing moment. This was good as the conversation next took a more complex and perhaps clandestine tone. This was no chance encounter. Hans had done his research, hints were made, a little job might be coming up – no formal interview would be required.
That meeting had taken place two months ago on a cool March evening, now the sun was shining and action was needed. Climbing up the narrow road that led to the campsite was an undemanding task. Two men in their forties, carrying medium-sized backpacks, wouldn’t look particularly out of place on a hill next too an already busy campsite. Hans was there according to plan, right on time.
***

The name Ben immediately makes me nearly certain that we're in a world of humans related to our own (sf is a possibility, fantasy relatively unlikely though not entirely impossible). We have dark gritty sand and sea air, which don't fall on either the reality or sf/f side but which put us on a beach. Casino is not going to be a fantasy term. It could be sf, but given that there are no other sf cues, this is the place where I feel certain we're in the real world.

This excerpt also has a lot of flavorful word choices that place the narrator socially. Chinwag stands out, as does pecking order and long-term sojourn. These give me a clear sense that he's working class.

Below, I'll be putting my comments in brown with brackets. Whenever I jump into this section, I always feel it's a good idea to clarify for new readers that these comments are not corrections. I'm giving my reaction in the moment and sharing my thoughts about the effects I see in the text.

***
Ben stepped onto the dark, gritty sand taking in a breath of the cool sea air. [This is effective in placing me on the beach - I assume at night, since black sand isn't usual!] His next stop had to be the Casino[okay, this is pretty sure to be real-world]; not that type of casino, more the main social venue in town, although some card playing was going on.[when? now?] An awful lot of noisy domino playing could be heard coming from the rear of the bar, where the few remaining fishermen and assorted locals gather for a mid-morning chinwag.[this is great, but I can't help wondering: is he perceiving this from his place on the beach?] It felt as though there was an uneasy peace between those on a short stay, those on a long-term sojourn and the more established residents. No doubt there was a pecking order, but Ben had neither the curiosity nor the patience to investigate such matters at the moment.[why? He doesn't seem particularly rushed.] He sat with the other tourists and day-trippers [I deduce that we're in an era post-Beatles] next to the window which looked out onto the esplanade.[So he is in the Casino.] His coffee arrived quickly; but did nothing to calm his nerves. Eating was out of the question; luckily he’d managed to force down breakfast on the plane,[at this point I feel pretty sure of a modern-day setting] more out of boredom than hunger.[He went from bored to nervous?]
The walk along the seafront was refreshingly pleasant,[is he walking again?] Ben felt as though he were on holiday. [this is a very distinct British expression, so that means we're not in the US; this is the first hint of that.] If only this stroll along the prom [this word also must be British. I can deduce its meaning but it's not going to be familiar to a lot of US readers] could be part of a relaxing break, rather than part of an elaborate plan, a web that dragged him in and dragged him down to depths he had never cared to inhabit. All through his grubby career he had worked on his own, a gun for hire, the lone wolf, a known quantity, just like a respected version of the unibomber without any links and not a killer who would send out half-crazed manifestos.[these words are chronologically placing him as well.] In the beginning there had been a warped [to whom is it warped? to Ben? to us?] idealism, but now it was for money. This one had come out of a chance meeting with a crazy German in a backstreet bar in Girona.
He claimed his name was Hans, or did they all just get called Hans or Fritz[interesting way of showing that Ben doubts his name] when they fronted up on the Costa Brava.[so this is the location of the previous meeting?] The chat started with the usual stuff about music rather than football.[I'm assuming this must mean soccer in this context.] Two guys in their forties [who are the two guys?] talking about the lamentable state of the tunes nowadays, they were both fans of krautrock, so what did they knows about tunes and melody. Hans was tall, but not gangly. He was good-looking, but not overtly, people might glance at him, but would then avert their gaze after a passing moment. This was good as the conversation next took a more complex and perhaps clandestine tone. [I didn't realize they were speaking. I think it's the word "next" that makes me feel like I went suddenly from a reported memory to an ongoing flashback scene (though one with no direct dialogue)] This was no chance encounter. Hans had done his research, hints were made, a little job might be coming up – no formal interview would be required.
That meeting had taken place two months ago on a cool March evening, now [this brings me back from the flashback to the current time period] the sun was shining [all right, so here we have the season] and action was needed. Climbing up the narrow road that led to the campsite was an undemanding task. [where is this narrow road? Is it near the beach? Where are we now?] Two men in their forties, carrying medium-sized backpacks, wouldn’t look particularly out of place on a hill next too an already busy campsite. Hans was there according to plan, right on time.
***

When I read this excerpt, I find it very easy to establish the general nature of the world: real world, modern time period, etc. I think perhaps the piece could benefit from a bit more specificity in the local setting, because I don't think British expressions should be our first clue that we're not in the US ("on holiday" could be Britain or Australia, while "prom" is more exclusively British). My biggest concern is that I find myself getting lost - not on the macro-level of world or time period, but on the micro-level of where precisely the character is and what he's doing. First I see him on the beach; then he seems to be in the Casino; then he's strolling along the promenade; then there's the flashback; then he's on a narrow road to a campsite. It's hard for me to tell how he got there.

One of the things I notice as I read this relates back to my Monday post about the superpowers of the grammatical subject. The character of our narrator is critical to our understanding of his world. The worldbuilding words create that world, but the character grounds us in it. In the excerpt above, Ben doesn't spend much time in the grammatical subject position. I list what he does as subject below:

Ben stepped/Ben had/he sat/Ben felt/he had worked

The total effect of this is that we don't see Ben do, and we don't see him move. This world is solid and has lots of dimension and detail. But in order for it to have its full impact, readers need to be oriented within it. For that we need to see how Ben orients himself, and how he acts in order to drive the story.

Thank you very much to our anonymous poster for contributing this piece to us. Commenters, please remember that this is meant to be a constructive and supportive discussion. The discussion is open.

TTYU Retro: Do you want to take on dialects?

Dialects can be really fun to work with, and they can also be very challenging to work with, depending on how they're approached (especially the real-world ones). It's awesome to find a story where dialect is done really well - gives the whole thing a lot of flavor. But if it's done badly it can be insulting, as I'm sure many of you know.

Here is one useful principle of dialects: since language is constantly changing as it's being used, the longer a population has lived in a given area, the more that pockets of language use in the area will diverge. Some real life populations that come to mind are China, where the dialects are very often mutually unintelligible, Japan, which has a vast variety of dialects, and England. All of these are populations that have been in place for a very long time. In the US we have many dialects that originate from other parts of the world, but it's interesting to observe how many fewer English accent variants there are on the more recently populated West Coast than in the East.

Intercommunication will not eradicate dialects, but it can slow their divergence. This is a useful thing to keep in mind if you're designing a fantasy world, or a science fiction planet, where the population has been around for a long time.

Dialects also reflect social status. There once was a study done in New York by Labov where different department stores had slightly different English usage (in pronunciation of "r"), and this was seen as an indicator of status (how classy the store was). So in your world/universe a particular profession, say, mariners or spacefarers, could easily develop their own dialect because they're relatively tight-knit, often isolated, and have a lot of pride in their own community. These regional dialects can simultaneously conflict, and coexist, with "standard" dialect (i.e. without disappearing), because distinct social value is placed on being able to speak to the public, or people in power, but a different kind of social value is placed on being able to mark yourself as one of the insiders for any particular language group.

If you want to work with a real-world dialect, there are different ways to approach it. Using alternative spellings of English can be clunky, both to write and to read, if it's not done just right (and for me, sometimes even if it is done right). Fortunately there's a lot more to dialect than just accent (phonetics and phonology, for the linguistics buffs). You can also work with vocabulary, or usages of words that are particular to the dialect. And you can also work with sentence structure, or with rhythm (prosody). Sometimes the easiest approach is to develop a feel for word-flow with a dialect speaker, and then use the surrounding text to imply the accent rather than trying to render it in spelling. In any case, for using real-world dialects the best bet is not to make any guesses. Find yourself a "native speaker" of the dialect and use them to help you grasp its patterns, and if you can, get them to proofread at the end. This is the best kind of insurance against inadvertently making an error that seems to belittle the dialect.

If you're not working with a real-world dialect, you can have a lot more free fun - though I will note that if the dialect appears to resemble a real-world dialect, or has "developed in the future" from one, then you might want to "hang a light on it," or bring attention to the fact that this is a dialect that has progressed on one hundred years since the cockney dialect, etc. so that people won't make wrong guesses.

My last thought would be that it's important to consider the ease with which the reader can grasp the dialect in question. My critique friends will laugh at me for saying this, after all the odd things I've asked them to try to read, but it's true. When I design a language for a short story, my main concern is less what the language itself sounds like, and more how that language can be rendered comprehensibly in English while still retaining the feel of an alien language. I think my friends would kill me if I actually ever tried to alter spellings (though Michael Flynn does this beautifully in dialogue!), so I always try to go for using sentence structure and rhythmic patterns to indicate the difference. I feel as if I'm asking readers for a real commitment when I want them to read a whole story in this style, as I did with "Cold Words" (Analog Oct 2009). In "Let the Word Take Me" (Analog Jul/Aug 2008) I did a similar thing with the gecko-girl Allayo, which is to say didn't worry much about what her language sounded like, but gave her a different rhythm of speech to contrast with the voice of David Linden.

If you've got one guy who talks funny, that's one thing, but the more extensive the use of dialect is, then the more reader effort it requires. It's worth putting in some effort as a writer to make sure the audience's comfort is being considered.

Because as far as I'm concerned, I don't mind asking readers to commit, but I don't want to make anyone suffer.