Friday, August 5, 2011
Cool link about ancient Pictish
There's now some evidence that ancient Pictish was a written language. Check out the methods scientists used to determine this here.
Thursday, August 4, 2011
Culture Share: France - Pierrade, fondue and raclette: French convivial meals
This post is part of The Writer's International Culture Share, in which writers discuss their personal experience with world cultures: Aliette de Bodard discusses convivial meals in France.
Pierrade, fondue and raclette: French convivial meals
by Aliette de Bodard
If you go to a French cookware store, you'll find that there often is a section titled "convivial", or some very similar words--and what they sell might seem very odd if you have never been to France: there's a series of what seem outlandish devices, accompanied by pictures of happy-looking people gathered around a table. Those devices are used for what I'd term "convivial meals."
These meals all have in common the very small prep time, and the fact that the instruments for cooking the food are laid on the table for everyone to use. This makes them a very popular choice for large and/or festive gatherings, or simply for a change of fare compared to oven-baked or casseroled dishes.
Here is a selection of those meals:
Pierrade
Pierrade comes from the French "pierre", which means stone, and that's basically what a pierrade is: it's a flat length of stone (not sure, but probably marble) laid on top of a resistor which causes its entire surface to become hot. The star of pierrade dishes is the meat: very often it's beef or lamb, but it can also be sausages, chicken, ... Pierrade meat needs to be sliced very thin, because pretty much the only part of the meat that will cook is the one in contact with the hot stone (unlike a frying pan, there is no heat-haze that helps the meat firm up). My family traditionally eats pierrade with oven-baked potatoes, but it can also be eaten on its own, with copious amounts of meat; with sliced vegetables cooked on the stone (peppers, zucchini, tomatoes); or with a simple salad. The basic process is simple: you set up the pierrade to warm up (oiling it and/or adding a thin layer of salt if the meat you plan to cook is lean and won't release enough grease to lubricate the stone). Once the pierrade is warm, everyone can come and sit at the table: platters of meat and side dishes are passed around, and everyone cooks their own meat on the pierrade. Possibly the only time-consuming part of the process is the cleaning-up of the pierrade itself: it always ends up covered in a layer of carbonised fat, which can be a real pain to scrape off the stone!
Raclette:
Raclette derives its name from the cheese that forms its base: raclette is a firm, yellow cheese with a characteristic taste--its name deriving from "racler", which means "to scrape (off)" (we'll see why in a minute). This is a winter dish, which originally came from the Alps--but it has now spread far from its area of origin, and is pretty much eaten all over France (though the best cheeses and raclette dishes are still found in Savoie and/or Switzerland, and it's still traditional to eat a raclette when going into the Alps for a skiing holiday).
The ingredients of a raclette are hearty fare: there are thin slices of raclette cheese, boiled potatoes, and a variety of charcuterie from cooked ham to saucisson (dry sausage) to Grisons meat. Like pierrade, raclette requires specialised equipment, namely a "appareil a raclette" (raclette device). It also consists of a heating element, but the setup is a bit different from a pierrade: a raclette device heats things up from above: each participant is given a "poelon", a rectangular pan with a handle, which then fits underneath the resistor. This is for melting the cheese: one or two slices are put in the poelon--when they're melted, the cheese is poured over the meat and/or potatoes in the plate, and everything eaten as it is--the warmth of the melted cheese combining with the salty strong taste of the meat, and the earthier flavor of boiled potatoes (the boiled potatoes are generally set on the device itself, on the metal tray above the heating element, which keeps them warm the entire meal).
The traditional raclette setup, which you still see in restaurants in the Alps, is an entire chunk of cheese set under a resistor: the surface of the cheese gradually melts, and you scrape off the melted bits as they become available--hence the name. It's usually so hearty (one massive chunk of cheese for two people) you're all set up for the winter!
Fondue:
Fondue is another Alpine dish, and has become a popular winter dish as well (and, like raclette, it's also traditionally eaten on skiing holidays). Like raclette, its main ingredient is melted cheese, but it's a slightly different beast. Fondue means "melted", and that's pretty much what the dish is: melted cheese--with a twist. While the cheeses are important (you usually have two or three different mountain cheeses such as Beaufort--which cheeses are used depend a lot on the area of the Alps you're in, as well as on what's available), the key element of a fondue is the wine. And it has to be good wine, not cooking wine, since it gives its characteristic taste to the mix: the ones generally used are Apremont, Abymes or Chaparellian, all white wines from Savoie (to give you an idea, most fondues have half as much wine in them as they have cheese!).
A fondue device ("appareil a fondue") is basically a warm container, with a rim wide enough for everyone to cluster around it. At the beginning of the meal, the appareil a fondue is brought to the table with the fondue steaming warm inside (which keeps everything to a viscous stage). Everyone is given a small skewer or fork and bits of bread, which are then used to dip into the cheese mixture.
This is just a sampling of the most common convivial meals: you'll find other devices in French cookware stores, such as crepe (thin pancakes) makers--but I mostly stuck to the ones I had tested *grin* They're all worth a try, and combine a great time among friends with awesome food--what's not to like?
Aliette de Bodard lives in Paris, France.
Pierrade, fondue and raclette: French convivial meals
by Aliette de Bodard
If you go to a French cookware store, you'll find that there often is a section titled "convivial", or some very similar words--and what they sell might seem very odd if you have never been to France: there's a series of what seem outlandish devices, accompanied by pictures of happy-looking people gathered around a table. Those devices are used for what I'd term "convivial meals."
These meals all have in common the very small prep time, and the fact that the instruments for cooking the food are laid on the table for everyone to use. This makes them a very popular choice for large and/or festive gatherings, or simply for a change of fare compared to oven-baked or casseroled dishes.
Here is a selection of those meals:
Pierrade
Pierrade comes from the French "pierre", which means stone, and that's basically what a pierrade is: it's a flat length of stone (not sure, but probably marble) laid on top of a resistor which causes its entire surface to become hot. The star of pierrade dishes is the meat: very often it's beef or lamb, but it can also be sausages, chicken, ... Pierrade meat needs to be sliced very thin, because pretty much the only part of the meat that will cook is the one in contact with the hot stone (unlike a frying pan, there is no heat-haze that helps the meat firm up). My family traditionally eats pierrade with oven-baked potatoes, but it can also be eaten on its own, with copious amounts of meat; with sliced vegetables cooked on the stone (peppers, zucchini, tomatoes); or with a simple salad. The basic process is simple: you set up the pierrade to warm up (oiling it and/or adding a thin layer of salt if the meat you plan to cook is lean and won't release enough grease to lubricate the stone). Once the pierrade is warm, everyone can come and sit at the table: platters of meat and side dishes are passed around, and everyone cooks their own meat on the pierrade. Possibly the only time-consuming part of the process is the cleaning-up of the pierrade itself: it always ends up covered in a layer of carbonised fat, which can be a real pain to scrape off the stone!
Raclette:
Raclette derives its name from the cheese that forms its base: raclette is a firm, yellow cheese with a characteristic taste--its name deriving from "racler", which means "to scrape (off)" (we'll see why in a minute). This is a winter dish, which originally came from the Alps--but it has now spread far from its area of origin, and is pretty much eaten all over France (though the best cheeses and raclette dishes are still found in Savoie and/or Switzerland, and it's still traditional to eat a raclette when going into the Alps for a skiing holiday).
The ingredients of a raclette are hearty fare: there are thin slices of raclette cheese, boiled potatoes, and a variety of charcuterie from cooked ham to saucisson (dry sausage) to Grisons meat. Like pierrade, raclette requires specialised equipment, namely a "appareil a raclette" (raclette device). It also consists of a heating element, but the setup is a bit different from a pierrade: a raclette device heats things up from above: each participant is given a "poelon", a rectangular pan with a handle, which then fits underneath the resistor. This is for melting the cheese: one or two slices are put in the poelon--when they're melted, the cheese is poured over the meat and/or potatoes in the plate, and everything eaten as it is--the warmth of the melted cheese combining with the salty strong taste of the meat, and the earthier flavor of boiled potatoes (the boiled potatoes are generally set on the device itself, on the metal tray above the heating element, which keeps them warm the entire meal).
The traditional raclette setup, which you still see in restaurants in the Alps, is an entire chunk of cheese set under a resistor: the surface of the cheese gradually melts, and you scrape off the melted bits as they become available--hence the name. It's usually so hearty (one massive chunk of cheese for two people) you're all set up for the winter!
Fondue:
Fondue is another Alpine dish, and has become a popular winter dish as well (and, like raclette, it's also traditionally eaten on skiing holidays). Like raclette, its main ingredient is melted cheese, but it's a slightly different beast. Fondue means "melted", and that's pretty much what the dish is: melted cheese--with a twist. While the cheeses are important (you usually have two or three different mountain cheeses such as Beaufort--which cheeses are used depend a lot on the area of the Alps you're in, as well as on what's available), the key element of a fondue is the wine. And it has to be good wine, not cooking wine, since it gives its characteristic taste to the mix: the ones generally used are Apremont, Abymes or Chaparellian, all white wines from Savoie (to give you an idea, most fondues have half as much wine in them as they have cheese!).
A fondue device ("appareil a fondue") is basically a warm container, with a rim wide enough for everyone to cluster around it. At the beginning of the meal, the appareil a fondue is brought to the table with the fondue steaming warm inside (which keeps everything to a viscous stage). Everyone is given a small skewer or fork and bits of bread, which are then used to dip into the cheese mixture.
This is just a sampling of the most common convivial meals: you'll find other devices in French cookware stores, such as crepe (thin pancakes) makers--but I mostly stuck to the ones I had tested *grin* They're all worth a try, and combine a great time among friends with awesome food--what's not to like?
Aliette de Bodard lives in Paris, France.
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Creating the *Feel* of a World
Let's say you have a really excellent world, and you've figured out a ton of things about it. The next step in story terms is to translate that world into the story and make it come alive. I've talked before about being careful not to info-dump - about managing and dispensing information in various ways (including Hiding Information in Plain Sight). But a lot of what makes a world come alive is not the information you know about it, but the feel of the place.
What creates the feel of a world?
Well, that information you've created will be useful. It's not going to be enough on its own to create a really intense feel. Here are some things that are useful for creating a world feel:
1. Objects that imply activities
I've mentioned this before, but objects can be extremely useful for creating world feel. What you need to look for is an object that is idiosyncratic. It could be an object designed for an activity unique to your world. It may be an object common to our own lives, but should take a form uniquely suited to the world you're creating. Like this Roman "Swiss Army Knife," for example. These objects will imply the activities and social circumstances they are designed to fit into.
2. Symbols that imply attitudes/judgment
Symbols can be found in lots of places. Real world cultures are full of them. In Japan, the moon is associated with autumn, and therefore can symbolize it. Colors can be symbolic, as when we associate blue with boys and pink with girls (don't get me started on that, but it is a symbolic color system). In your world, any of these things can be symbolic, and if they symbolize unexpected things, the feel of your world will be enhanced. Better still if those symbols can mean one thing to one social group, and another to another. In Varin, the nobility see the manservant's tattoo as a symbol of skill and subservience; other servants see it as a sign of elite education, pride and adulthood; and Lowers see it as a sign of danger (as do nobles who might be in danger of encountering their bodyguard skills!).
3. Metaphors that imply value categories
I can't overestimate the importance of metaphors in creating a feel for your world. We don't think consciously about a lot of the metaphors we use, but using them evokes all kinds of imagery that we associate with what is important and basic in our world. "Life is a journey" evokes all kinds of things, including old fairy tales ("off to seek his fortune"), the voyages of early explorers, the frontier, etc. If "life is a game" then you can go into all kinds of games that life might be like - poker will give you one feel, chess another, power and assassination yet another. In fact, I highly encourage you to create games unique to your world circumstances; they can be enormously important in creating feel!
4. Voices that imply, well, everything
Pay attention to your character voices. Because they are constantly present, they do an enormous amount of work in creating the feel of your world. They can help delineate social groups and world categories all over the map, and by casting judgment (as I've mentioned before in Subjective Point of View: expressing judgment with adverbs and verbs), they create an enormous amount of "world feel" while at the same time working for you in the areas of plot and character.
It's something to think about.
What creates the feel of a world?
Well, that information you've created will be useful. It's not going to be enough on its own to create a really intense feel. Here are some things that are useful for creating a world feel:
1. Objects that imply activities
I've mentioned this before, but objects can be extremely useful for creating world feel. What you need to look for is an object that is idiosyncratic. It could be an object designed for an activity unique to your world. It may be an object common to our own lives, but should take a form uniquely suited to the world you're creating. Like this Roman "Swiss Army Knife," for example. These objects will imply the activities and social circumstances they are designed to fit into.
2. Symbols that imply attitudes/judgment
Symbols can be found in lots of places. Real world cultures are full of them. In Japan, the moon is associated with autumn, and therefore can symbolize it. Colors can be symbolic, as when we associate blue with boys and pink with girls (don't get me started on that, but it is a symbolic color system). In your world, any of these things can be symbolic, and if they symbolize unexpected things, the feel of your world will be enhanced. Better still if those symbols can mean one thing to one social group, and another to another. In Varin, the nobility see the manservant's tattoo as a symbol of skill and subservience; other servants see it as a sign of elite education, pride and adulthood; and Lowers see it as a sign of danger (as do nobles who might be in danger of encountering their bodyguard skills!).
3. Metaphors that imply value categories
I can't overestimate the importance of metaphors in creating a feel for your world. We don't think consciously about a lot of the metaphors we use, but using them evokes all kinds of imagery that we associate with what is important and basic in our world. "Life is a journey" evokes all kinds of things, including old fairy tales ("off to seek his fortune"), the voyages of early explorers, the frontier, etc. If "life is a game" then you can go into all kinds of games that life might be like - poker will give you one feel, chess another, power and assassination yet another. In fact, I highly encourage you to create games unique to your world circumstances; they can be enormously important in creating feel!
4. Voices that imply, well, everything
Pay attention to your character voices. Because they are constantly present, they do an enormous amount of work in creating the feel of your world. They can help delineate social groups and world categories all over the map, and by casting judgment (as I've mentioned before in Subjective Point of View: expressing judgment with adverbs and verbs), they create an enormous amount of "world feel" while at the same time working for you in the areas of plot and character.
It's something to think about.
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
Exciting: "Cold Words" to be anthologized!
Some of you may have seen me going, "I have exciting secret news" last week. At this point I can tell you what it is. My novelette, "Cold Words," (Analog, Oct. 2009) has been selected for inclusion in Analog's very first Kindle anthology: Into the New Millennium: Trailblazing Tales from Analog Science Fiction and Fact 2000-2010!
I'm thrilled at this. I was very proud of "Cold Words" and love my protagonist, Rulii - in fact, I've been thinking for some time about how to do a sequel to this story. I read a part of "Cold Words" aloud at Westercon, and was asked whether it had been anthologized... at the time I had to say no, but no longer! I will let you all know as soon as I learn more about the publication date.
I'm thrilled at this. I was very proud of "Cold Words" and love my protagonist, Rulii - in fact, I've been thinking for some time about how to do a sequel to this story. I read a part of "Cold Words" aloud at Westercon, and was asked whether it had been anthologized... at the time I had to say no, but no longer! I will let you all know as soon as I learn more about the publication date.
Critique partners - finding and valuing them
I was asked by an anonymous blog commenter a few days ago, "how do you find a critique partner?" so I thought I'd share my thoughts on the subject.
I started out, as I think most writers do, simply writing for myself and not looking for critique. However, that phase didn't last long. I knew that I needed other people to look at my work in order to see how to improve it. I did show it to a number of friends, but friends as a general pool (unless you're hanging out with excellent writers) aren't the most reliable for finding really good quality critique.
Because I write science fiction and fantasy, I joined the Critters website as my first critique venue. This site was a great place for me to start, because by critiquing others, I learned quite a lot about how to improve my own writing. I am not a person who writes lots and lots of stories quickly, so I generally found the wait in the critique queue to be too long for my taste. Despite this, however, I did read a lot of interesting work and receive some quality critiques which helped a lot. The best thing that came out of this was that I met Janice Hardy. I'd critiqued a work of hers and we got into a lengthy email discussion about her worldbuilding that ended up getting transferred to telephone discussions and we've been critiquing each other's work ever since.
My luck in meeting Janice was exceptional, and that brings me to my commenter's second question, "What do you look for in a critique partner?" First off, I look for someone who is not going to be kind to me just on the basis of friendship, someone who isn't going to take things for granted. I also appreciate it if that person has an analytical mind and is able to speculate helpfully on the source of any issues that arise. Janice and I are well matched because while we share many of the same values in what we write, our strengths lie in complementary areas. Janice totally rocks on plot, goals, stakes, and general story guts, so she keeps me on track when I have weaknesses in those areas. My own strengths are typically in worldbuilding and character development. Thus we are able to help each other work toward a goal that will be stronger, and which both of us will enjoy reading.
I also have other critique partners. I went to a convention writer's workshop (BayCon) and met Dario Ciriello there, and through him was connected with a face-to-face group which I stayed with for quite some time. Because of my family life - in particular, the demands of full-time motherhood - the face to face group proved tricky for me after a while. However, I am still working with Dario, who has a great eye for quality and is very good at helping me out (thus his status as editor at Panverse Publishing!).
One does upon occasion leave critique groups. There may be many reasons for this. I've heard of people leaving groups for social or political reasons; fortunately, this hasn't happened to me. I've also heard of people leaving groups because they felt the group members weren't at a level to help them any more. This is possible too, but again, hasn't happened to me. I've actually found that in the groups I've joined, the writers there were just as hungry for self-improvement as I was, and thus, the longer I was a member, the better we all became. That is a dynamic that I deeply value, and something that makes me very happy about my current writer's group.
I also occasionally run into people, either at conventions or through my internet writer networks, who take interest in my writing at the same time that I do theirs. These people become critique partners, sometimes only for a single work, but sometimes for more. I can hardly describe how much I appreciate the support of Lillian Csernica and Jamie Todd Rubin, who have critiqued for me and engaged in lengthy discussions of my work (and theirs!).
The important thing to remember here is that no one is ever obligated to read a single word you have written. Even at Critters, where return critiquing is required, people may choose to critique others' work and not yours. Every time someone reads your work and offers feedback beyond "I liked it" or "I didn't like it", that is an incredible gift. Their time is precious. This is why I always remind people that when you meet an established author, you should be very careful about asking them to look at your work. I try never to do this if at all possible, and to let them ask first.
Given that, it only makes sense that one's response to critique should not be to criticize the critiquer. Neither should it be to explain things to them. Remember that if and when your work gets published, you won't be standing beside it to explain. Whatever it evokes in the mind of the reader is a legitimate interpretation. That's one reason why critiques are so valuable - they help you as a writer to identify the mistaken understandings that you've inadvertently left open for readers to find.
Critique is why I am where I am today. I've learned so much from the friends I've mentioned, and from many others - things I never would have been able to grasp on my own. In fact, my tendency to seek critique saved me this past year when my computer was stolen, because I was able to reconstruct almost all of my writing files simply by asking my critique partners to send me what they had of my various drafts.
To my critiquers over the years: I'm eternally grateful to each and every one of you.
To my readers: I hope that you will be as fortunate in finding critique partners as I have been.
I started out, as I think most writers do, simply writing for myself and not looking for critique. However, that phase didn't last long. I knew that I needed other people to look at my work in order to see how to improve it. I did show it to a number of friends, but friends as a general pool (unless you're hanging out with excellent writers) aren't the most reliable for finding really good quality critique.
Because I write science fiction and fantasy, I joined the Critters website as my first critique venue. This site was a great place for me to start, because by critiquing others, I learned quite a lot about how to improve my own writing. I am not a person who writes lots and lots of stories quickly, so I generally found the wait in the critique queue to be too long for my taste. Despite this, however, I did read a lot of interesting work and receive some quality critiques which helped a lot. The best thing that came out of this was that I met Janice Hardy. I'd critiqued a work of hers and we got into a lengthy email discussion about her worldbuilding that ended up getting transferred to telephone discussions and we've been critiquing each other's work ever since.
My luck in meeting Janice was exceptional, and that brings me to my commenter's second question, "What do you look for in a critique partner?" First off, I look for someone who is not going to be kind to me just on the basis of friendship, someone who isn't going to take things for granted. I also appreciate it if that person has an analytical mind and is able to speculate helpfully on the source of any issues that arise. Janice and I are well matched because while we share many of the same values in what we write, our strengths lie in complementary areas. Janice totally rocks on plot, goals, stakes, and general story guts, so she keeps me on track when I have weaknesses in those areas. My own strengths are typically in worldbuilding and character development. Thus we are able to help each other work toward a goal that will be stronger, and which both of us will enjoy reading.
I also have other critique partners. I went to a convention writer's workshop (BayCon) and met Dario Ciriello there, and through him was connected with a face-to-face group which I stayed with for quite some time. Because of my family life - in particular, the demands of full-time motherhood - the face to face group proved tricky for me after a while. However, I am still working with Dario, who has a great eye for quality and is very good at helping me out (thus his status as editor at Panverse Publishing!).
One does upon occasion leave critique groups. There may be many reasons for this. I've heard of people leaving groups for social or political reasons; fortunately, this hasn't happened to me. I've also heard of people leaving groups because they felt the group members weren't at a level to help them any more. This is possible too, but again, hasn't happened to me. I've actually found that in the groups I've joined, the writers there were just as hungry for self-improvement as I was, and thus, the longer I was a member, the better we all became. That is a dynamic that I deeply value, and something that makes me very happy about my current writer's group.
I also occasionally run into people, either at conventions or through my internet writer networks, who take interest in my writing at the same time that I do theirs. These people become critique partners, sometimes only for a single work, but sometimes for more. I can hardly describe how much I appreciate the support of Lillian Csernica and Jamie Todd Rubin, who have critiqued for me and engaged in lengthy discussions of my work (and theirs!).
The important thing to remember here is that no one is ever obligated to read a single word you have written. Even at Critters, where return critiquing is required, people may choose to critique others' work and not yours. Every time someone reads your work and offers feedback beyond "I liked it" or "I didn't like it", that is an incredible gift. Their time is precious. This is why I always remind people that when you meet an established author, you should be very careful about asking them to look at your work. I try never to do this if at all possible, and to let them ask first.
Given that, it only makes sense that one's response to critique should not be to criticize the critiquer. Neither should it be to explain things to them. Remember that if and when your work gets published, you won't be standing beside it to explain. Whatever it evokes in the mind of the reader is a legitimate interpretation. That's one reason why critiques are so valuable - they help you as a writer to identify the mistaken understandings that you've inadvertently left open for readers to find.
Critique is why I am where I am today. I've learned so much from the friends I've mentioned, and from many others - things I never would have been able to grasp on my own. In fact, my tendency to seek critique saved me this past year when my computer was stolen, because I was able to reconstruct almost all of my writing files simply by asking my critique partners to send me what they had of my various drafts.
To my critiquers over the years: I'm eternally grateful to each and every one of you.
To my readers: I hope that you will be as fortunate in finding critique partners as I have been.
Monday, August 1, 2011
My schedule for WorldCon in Reno!
So here it is, officially! I've received my schedule for Reno Worldcon. I'd love to see you if you're attending. I've got some great panels, as well as a reading and an autographing session (with some very awesome people). These are the most reliable places to catch me:
Thu 15:00 - 16:00, KaffeeKlatsch: Thu 15:00, KK1 (RSCC)
Juliette Wade, Carol Berg, Lee Harris, Larry Correia
Fri 14:00 - 15:00, Anticipatory Anthropology: Study of Future Humans, A16 (RSCC)
Margaret Mead said "Anthropology has to date made very
meager contributions to man's developing concern with the
future" ("Contribution" 3). Two decades later, the American
Anthropological Association began awarding an annual prize
for "Anticipatory Anthropology" in order to ameliorate this
shortcoming, what Robert Textor (who sponsored the award
and for whom it is named) called the discipline's
"tempocentrism"- i.e., its concern only "with the past, the
ethnographic present, and the actual present"
Irene Radford, Juliette Wade, Margaret McGaffey Fisk, Patricia MacEwen
Fri 16:00 - 17:00, Neologism and Linguicide: How the Dominant Language Mutates and Assimilates Other Languages, D04 (RSCC)
We've all heard of species becoming endangered, but the
famous anthropologist Wade Davis warns of a similar problem
happening to the languages which endangers the richness of
the world's cultures. How we preserve or destroy these
languages and how we cultivate linguistic habits, will
determine what we are able to think in the world of the
near future.
Lawrence M. Schoen, Juliette Wade, Sheila Finch, David J. Peterson
Sat 12:00 - 13:00, Designing Believable Languages, A10 (RSCC)
How do biology, population density, and other features help
determine the development of languages on an alien world?
Peadar Ó Guilín, Juliette Wade, S.M. Stirling, David J. Peterson
Sat 15:00 - 16:00, Analog Doesn't Publish Women?, A10 (RSCC)
The Analog Mafia, not just for men...
Stanley Schmidt (M), Juliette Wade, Maya Kaathryn Bohnhoff, Mary A. Turzillo
Sat 16:30 - 17:00, Reading: Juliette Wade, A15 (RSCC)
Sun 11:00 - 12:00, Autographing: Sun 11:00, Hall 2 (RSCC)
(Juliette Wade, Nancy Kress, Grania Davis, Jack Skillingstead, Robert G. Pielke, Gail Carriger, Joe Haldeman)
Thu 15:00 - 16:00, KaffeeKlatsch: Thu 15:00, KK1 (RSCC)
Juliette Wade, Carol Berg, Lee Harris, Larry Correia
Fri 14:00 - 15:00, Anticipatory Anthropology: Study of Future Humans, A16 (RSCC)
Margaret Mead said "Anthropology has to date made very
meager contributions to man's developing concern with the
future" ("Contribution" 3). Two decades later, the American
Anthropological Association began awarding an annual prize
for "Anticipatory Anthropology" in order to ameliorate this
shortcoming, what Robert Textor (who sponsored the award
and for whom it is named) called the discipline's
"tempocentrism"- i.e., its concern only "with the past, the
ethnographic present, and the actual present"
Irene Radford, Juliette Wade, Margaret McGaffey Fisk, Patricia MacEwen
Fri 16:00 - 17:00, Neologism and Linguicide: How the Dominant Language Mutates and Assimilates Other Languages, D04 (RSCC)
We've all heard of species becoming endangered, but the
famous anthropologist Wade Davis warns of a similar problem
happening to the languages which endangers the richness of
the world's cultures. How we preserve or destroy these
languages and how we cultivate linguistic habits, will
determine what we are able to think in the world of the
near future.
Lawrence M. Schoen, Juliette Wade, Sheila Finch, David J. Peterson
Sat 12:00 - 13:00, Designing Believable Languages, A10 (RSCC)
How do biology, population density, and other features help
determine the development of languages on an alien world?
Peadar Ó Guilín, Juliette Wade, S.M. Stirling, David J. Peterson
Sat 15:00 - 16:00, Analog Doesn't Publish Women?, A10 (RSCC)
The Analog Mafia, not just for men...
Stanley Schmidt (M), Juliette Wade, Maya Kaathryn Bohnhoff, Mary A. Turzillo
Sat 16:30 - 17:00, Reading: Juliette Wade, A15 (RSCC)
Sun 11:00 - 12:00, Autographing: Sun 11:00, Hall 2 (RSCC)
(Juliette Wade, Nancy Kress, Grania Davis, Jack Skillingstead, Robert G. Pielke, Gail Carriger, Joe Haldeman)
Be Tender; Be Terrible (with your characters)
Do you care about your characters?
I think the question of whether we care - and whether readers care - is one of the most vital in all of writing. If readers don't care, they won't keep reading. If we don't care, as writers, then how can we expect our readers to care?
So how can you make people care?
It's not uncommon to hear writers talk about torturing their characters, doing bad things to them in order to make the story stronger. This is very, very important. If we don't challenge our characters, and if we make everything easy for them, then readers can quickly stop caring.
It's not enough, though, just to do terrible things. We also need other reasons to care. Something good about the person that we can relate to, or a glimpse of the character's tastes that can let us align with them. Even when dealing with an antagonist, it's useful to give them something soft and vulnerable somewhere, to keep the reader's attention riveted.
I've been watching the extended version of The Lord of the Rings, and I've been impressed over and over with how Tolkien - and Peter Jackson's treatment of the story - creates both the tender and the terrible sides of its characters. Interestingly, the extended version adds some time to the terrible events of the story, but adds far more time to the tender events of the story - Merry and Pippin dancing on the table in the Shire, for example, or Eowyn and Faramir meeting in the Houses of Healing.
The experience of depth in a story relies on the presence of both the tender and the terrible. It's a lot like dynamic range in music - a song with both loud and soft moments will leave a deeper impression on us than a song that is all loud or all soft. In fact, I highly recommend that with complex stories, you look for opportunities to provide different dynamic values for each arc that you are creating. The intimate contrasts with the epic. Action contrasts with subtle tension. Strength contrasts with vulnerability. The orcs at the doorstep of Helm's deep look frightening on their own, but they are more frightening when we are shown the families inside waiting to be overrun. Sauron is this overwhelming force of evil, but he can still feel fear, and when that fear is something that our heroes can use to their advantage, how much more interesting the story becomes! Maybe that's what irritates us so much about the Mary Sue - if she's all good, then she comes across as flat.
Some might call these contrasting elements yin and yang, or masculine and feminine - but they're more comprehensive than that. They make the difference between bas-relief and full-scale sculpture, between two and three dimensions. Either one is less effective without the other.
It's something to think about.
I think the question of whether we care - and whether readers care - is one of the most vital in all of writing. If readers don't care, they won't keep reading. If we don't care, as writers, then how can we expect our readers to care?
So how can you make people care?
It's not uncommon to hear writers talk about torturing their characters, doing bad things to them in order to make the story stronger. This is very, very important. If we don't challenge our characters, and if we make everything easy for them, then readers can quickly stop caring.
It's not enough, though, just to do terrible things. We also need other reasons to care. Something good about the person that we can relate to, or a glimpse of the character's tastes that can let us align with them. Even when dealing with an antagonist, it's useful to give them something soft and vulnerable somewhere, to keep the reader's attention riveted.
I've been watching the extended version of The Lord of the Rings, and I've been impressed over and over with how Tolkien - and Peter Jackson's treatment of the story - creates both the tender and the terrible sides of its characters. Interestingly, the extended version adds some time to the terrible events of the story, but adds far more time to the tender events of the story - Merry and Pippin dancing on the table in the Shire, for example, or Eowyn and Faramir meeting in the Houses of Healing.
The experience of depth in a story relies on the presence of both the tender and the terrible. It's a lot like dynamic range in music - a song with both loud and soft moments will leave a deeper impression on us than a song that is all loud or all soft. In fact, I highly recommend that with complex stories, you look for opportunities to provide different dynamic values for each arc that you are creating. The intimate contrasts with the epic. Action contrasts with subtle tension. Strength contrasts with vulnerability. The orcs at the doorstep of Helm's deep look frightening on their own, but they are more frightening when we are shown the families inside waiting to be overrun. Sauron is this overwhelming force of evil, but he can still feel fear, and when that fear is something that our heroes can use to their advantage, how much more interesting the story becomes! Maybe that's what irritates us so much about the Mary Sue - if she's all good, then she comes across as flat.
Some might call these contrasting elements yin and yang, or masculine and feminine - but they're more comprehensive than that. They make the difference between bas-relief and full-scale sculpture, between two and three dimensions. Either one is less effective without the other.
It's something to think about.
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