There's a lot of talk in the writing world about the opening line. Just like approaching a member of the opposite sex, those first words can apparently make or break you in the eyes of agents, editors, and readers. And they could quite possibly haunt you for the rest of your life.
We're taught in the early stages of writing that we need to hook our readers immediately and make them want more, and that we're supposed to do this in a single, solitary sentence.
There is a plethora of information available on the subject for those who seek it. From writing workshops to internet blogs, it seems everyone has an opinion on how to craft the perfect opening line. Unfortunately, a lot of these sources contradict one another.
Some say scene description at the start will kill your novel. Others say it's crucial to world building.
One says to never open with dialogue. Another says doing so will make your work stand out.
It's enough to drive a writer insane. Or at least make us question why we ever decided to embark upon this potentially soul-crushing adventure in the first place.
Like every writer I struggle with the opening hook, but I've found that if I don't fret, just let it go and write my story, something great will pop into my head before I've typed The End and break out into my victory dance.
Bloodletting starts with Olivia was afraid of the dark. I can only hope I nailed it. I think I did. But Bloodletting is revised and polished. Query letter has been perfected and submitted to agents. Now it's time for me to move forward.
My current obsession begins with She never cut deep enough to finish the job, just enough to create a God-awful mess. I like it now, but who knows, by the time I'm done I probably will have changed it a hundred times.
I'll admit, it's been a good writing week for me. My creativity is flowing. I'm not contending with bouts of "everything I write is crap" melancholia. So, just for fun (and since we don't have to worry about my sinking into an abysmal depression) I'm going to post the first oh-so-important line of some of the novels and short stories I've written.
I'm the first to admit that a lot of these are downright awful, but read them anyway. Then let me know (via the comment button below) which one hooks you and makes you want to see more, and which ones should suffer the wrath of my delete key.
1) I was never one for granting second chances, so when he begged for one - when he swore up, down, back, forth and sideways that it would never happen again - I wasn't too inclined to give him one.
2) If Alyssa had learned one thing today, it was that cleaning a toilet in a mini-skirt and her favorite stilettos was not something she ever wanted to experience again.
3) Back home, I had dreamed of America often.
4) The door at the opposite end of the long, narrow corridor was slightly ajar, which only served to exacerbate his anxiety.
5) The river was just about the only thing moving, it's violent and turbulent routine unabated by the scene growing along its bank.
6) There was a time, centuries ago, when vampires were worshipped as gods.
7) Lexie's eyes grew wider, her eyebrows reaching towards the sky.
8) The corners of the envelope, adorned with silver embossed doves flying beside cascading ribbons, declared it to be a wedding invitation.
9) She was light in his hands.
10) The scent of bacon frying filled the kitchen.
11) From the corner of the room where it had been unceremoniously tossed, the digital clock cast an ominous red glow across the bare walls.
12) "Have you been drinking already?"
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Recent Reads - A Day No Pigs Would Die
A Day No Pigs Would Die, by Robert Newton Peck
Genre: Coming of Age / Memoir
Why I Chose It: It was required reading when I was in 6th grade, but it has remained one of my favorites. One of the books I keep on my shelf so I can pull it out and feel a certain way again.
Overview: A Day No Pigs Would Die is a coming of age story about a Shaker boy growing up in rural Vermont in the 1920's. The story centers on Robert Peck, a 13 year old boy, and his relationship with his father Haven, a farmer and a butcher who slaughters hogs, as well as Robert's relationship with his pet pig Pinky.
My Take: Reading is all about one's personal taste and not everyone will like the simple, barely educated, country narrative voice employed, but it is the voice of a young Robert Peck and he uses it to tell his story the best way he knows how.
I personally can't say enough how much I love this book. This book grabbed hold of something inside me 17 years ago and to this day I can recall the emotion that overwhelmed me while reading it. The emotion that, when I re-read it today, still slams me in the gut and makes me sob uncontrollably and unapologetically.
I recommend it to anyone who wants a heartfelt look at a father/son relationship seen through the eyes of a boy learning just how incredibly difficult it is to be a man.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Self Publishing vs. Traditional Publishing
Nothing can set off a writing group quite like a conversation about the pros and cons of self-publishing versus traditional publishing. In today's ever increasing technological society, more and more authors are choosing to forego the the usual hurdles of agents, publishers, (and all-too-often editors), and deciding to publish their work themselves.
In this post I am going to attempt to give my opinion on the subject. Now before anybody gets it into their head to grab their torches, pitchforks, and break out into a rendition of "Kill the Beast", let me get a few things out of the way first:
1) I do not in any way think Self-Publishing is inferior to Traditional Publishing.
2) I do not in any way think Traditional Publishing is inferior to Self-Publishing
3) I do not think every book that has ever been Self-Published is not worthy of the paper it is printed on (or in most cases the space it takes up on your hard-drive).
4) I do not think every book that has ever been Traditionally published is well-written or interesting just because it was published that way.
5) I do not think of Self-Publishing as a last resort used by authors when they've been rejected by everyone else.
6) I have no intention of invading your village, pillaging your goods, assaulting your women, or eating your children.
I simply have an opinion. And the last time I checked, I was entitled to one of those. So here it is:
For my first foray into publishing, I have decided that I will publish traditionally or I will not publish at all.
Wait! Wait! Quit pointing those things at me. I have my reasons.
Contrary to popular opinion, I am not one of those people who believe that we need agents and publishers to act as so-called "gatekeepers" and tell us all exactly what we should read. I'm just of the mind to believe that we need them to tell us when we should read something.
Think about it. Most published authors take the time to thank and acknowledge their agents and editors for their tireless and hard work on their behalf. Now I know every writer out there has multiple friends and family members who are expecting a big shout out on that front page of their first book. So tell me why then would authors risk potentionally alienating their sister's best friend's cousin just so they would have the room to thank those individuals that we authors supposedly do not need?
It is because for most of us, we do need them. We need them in that desperate can't-even-breathe-if-you're-not-around Bella/Edward sort of way.
We work non-stop preparing our final draft, diligently editing and cutting and polishing, before we submit our work to agents. When we send it out we think that our baby is shiny and perfect. However, once it lands in front of an agent, what they see, more often than not, is potentional. Not a masterpiece.
At least I know that I didn't pen the next great American novel on my first try. Hell, who am I kidding? I didn't even finish the novel on my first try.
Don't get me wrong. I'm not saying that there aren't some well-written, well-edited, self-published books out in the market. Jenny Pox, by JL Bryan is self-published, and BTW terrific. But, sadly, a large amount of them are not.
And I'm not trying to say that an author cannot be successful self-publishing. A lot are. Amanda Hocking, author of the My Blood Approves series among others, is a twenty-something who penned 17 novels in her spare time, began self-publishing them in April 2010, and became a millionaire doing so.
She also provides my case in point. I have never read Ms. Hocking's Trylle Trilogy, an urban fantasy about a girl who discovers she is a troll princess. I also have no intention of doing so. Why? Well, I'm glad you asked. (You did ask, right?).
I read the reviews by readers on Amazon, Barnes & Nobles, and every other website known to man.
Again with the pitchforks? Really?!
Give me the benefit of the doubt. I am not some drone who believes everything I read and bases my opinions upon it. I usually take both the good and the bad reviews with a grain of salt. I know these are subjective. But here is the problem with the Trylle Trilogy reviews:
Hundreds and hundreds of her loyal readers are crying foul. They're hurt. Outraged. Vomiting. They publish a post and come on a few days later, still angry, to add to it. They are screaming words in big bold letters like BETRAYAL & HATRED. And here's why:
Ms. Hocking decided to end the trilogy with a twist. Something her loyal readers claim they never saw coming and are none-too-happy about.
While there are plenty of posts citing grammer and spelling mistakes, nobody is questioning Ms. Hocking's ability to tell a good story. Most laud her first two books. Ultimately, they are questioning her choices and the seemingly inexplicable change of character in her protagonist Wendy in the final installment.
She'd spent 2 of the 3 books building an all-comsuming love between Wendy & Finn, and in the end Wendy chooses another.
This has left her readers with a bad taste in their mouths and a hollow feeling in the pit of their stomachs. A void that now can never be filled. A wrong that can never be righted.
And it is exactly this that terrifies me most, and sends me running for the arms of an agent or publisher.
My sister, Katie, is always the first person to read my work. And she has, unfortunately, read some versions of my novel, Bloodletting, that I wish I could take back.
She has called me in the middle of the night foaming at the mouth and spewing venomous words I didn't even realize she knew. My sister, my best friend, my own flesh and blood, told me in no uncertain terms that she was having great difficulty not hating me. That she wasn't even sure that she could speak to me for a few weeks. At least not until she had time to cool off.
And she did this because I, as the writer, had made a choice that fit with the story I was trying to tell, but that didn't agree with what she, as the reader, had been led to believe would happen.
We're writers. We like twists. They keep our story interesting and moving along. They make us feel unique and profound. But if you do a complete 360 with your characters, it has a tendency to induce vertigo in your readers.
We have to please ourselves, but we must also please our readers. We cannot have a twist just for the sake of being different, if it is so contrary to the rest of the work that it makes our readers violently ill.
It's out there now. And although her readers are crying for a rewrite - telling others to skip the final installment and leave the end to the imagination - it cannot be undone.
If only someone had told her to wait. To think about the ramifications before she published.
I would like to believe that had an agent or a publisher been involved, they would have done for Ms. Hocking what my sister did for me. That they would have yelled and screamed and stamped their feet until finally she came to see that our view as writers is but one. Then, with the help of her agent/editor/publisher, found an ending that would have pleased both writer and readers.
In this post I am going to attempt to give my opinion on the subject. Now before anybody gets it into their head to grab their torches, pitchforks, and break out into a rendition of "Kill the Beast", let me get a few things out of the way first:
1) I do not in any way think Self-Publishing is inferior to Traditional Publishing.
2) I do not in any way think Traditional Publishing is inferior to Self-Publishing
3) I do not think every book that has ever been Self-Published is not worthy of the paper it is printed on (or in most cases the space it takes up on your hard-drive).
4) I do not think every book that has ever been Traditionally published is well-written or interesting just because it was published that way.
5) I do not think of Self-Publishing as a last resort used by authors when they've been rejected by everyone else.
6) I have no intention of invading your village, pillaging your goods, assaulting your women, or eating your children.
I simply have an opinion. And the last time I checked, I was entitled to one of those. So here it is:
For my first foray into publishing, I have decided that I will publish traditionally or I will not publish at all.
Wait! Wait! Quit pointing those things at me. I have my reasons.
Contrary to popular opinion, I am not one of those people who believe that we need agents and publishers to act as so-called "gatekeepers" and tell us all exactly what we should read. I'm just of the mind to believe that we need them to tell us when we should read something.
Think about it. Most published authors take the time to thank and acknowledge their agents and editors for their tireless and hard work on their behalf. Now I know every writer out there has multiple friends and family members who are expecting a big shout out on that front page of their first book. So tell me why then would authors risk potentionally alienating their sister's best friend's cousin just so they would have the room to thank those individuals that we authors supposedly do not need?
It is because for most of us, we do need them. We need them in that desperate can't-even-breathe-if-you're-not-around Bella/Edward sort of way.
We work non-stop preparing our final draft, diligently editing and cutting and polishing, before we submit our work to agents. When we send it out we think that our baby is shiny and perfect. However, once it lands in front of an agent, what they see, more often than not, is potentional. Not a masterpiece.
At least I know that I didn't pen the next great American novel on my first try. Hell, who am I kidding? I didn't even finish the novel on my first try.
Don't get me wrong. I'm not saying that there aren't some well-written, well-edited, self-published books out in the market. Jenny Pox, by JL Bryan is self-published, and BTW terrific. But, sadly, a large amount of them are not.
And I'm not trying to say that an author cannot be successful self-publishing. A lot are. Amanda Hocking, author of the My Blood Approves series among others, is a twenty-something who penned 17 novels in her spare time, began self-publishing them in April 2010, and became a millionaire doing so.
She also provides my case in point. I have never read Ms. Hocking's Trylle Trilogy, an urban fantasy about a girl who discovers she is a troll princess. I also have no intention of doing so. Why? Well, I'm glad you asked. (You did ask, right?).
I read the reviews by readers on Amazon, Barnes & Nobles, and every other website known to man.
Again with the pitchforks? Really?!
Give me the benefit of the doubt. I am not some drone who believes everything I read and bases my opinions upon it. I usually take both the good and the bad reviews with a grain of salt. I know these are subjective. But here is the problem with the Trylle Trilogy reviews:
Hundreds and hundreds of her loyal readers are crying foul. They're hurt. Outraged. Vomiting. They publish a post and come on a few days later, still angry, to add to it. They are screaming words in big bold letters like BETRAYAL & HATRED. And here's why:
Ms. Hocking decided to end the trilogy with a twist. Something her loyal readers claim they never saw coming and are none-too-happy about.
While there are plenty of posts citing grammer and spelling mistakes, nobody is questioning Ms. Hocking's ability to tell a good story. Most laud her first two books. Ultimately, they are questioning her choices and the seemingly inexplicable change of character in her protagonist Wendy in the final installment.
She'd spent 2 of the 3 books building an all-comsuming love between Wendy & Finn, and in the end Wendy chooses another.
This has left her readers with a bad taste in their mouths and a hollow feeling in the pit of their stomachs. A void that now can never be filled. A wrong that can never be righted.
And it is exactly this that terrifies me most, and sends me running for the arms of an agent or publisher.
My sister, Katie, is always the first person to read my work. And she has, unfortunately, read some versions of my novel, Bloodletting, that I wish I could take back.
She has called me in the middle of the night foaming at the mouth and spewing venomous words I didn't even realize she knew. My sister, my best friend, my own flesh and blood, told me in no uncertain terms that she was having great difficulty not hating me. That she wasn't even sure that she could speak to me for a few weeks. At least not until she had time to cool off.
And she did this because I, as the writer, had made a choice that fit with the story I was trying to tell, but that didn't agree with what she, as the reader, had been led to believe would happen.
We're writers. We like twists. They keep our story interesting and moving along. They make us feel unique and profound. But if you do a complete 360 with your characters, it has a tendency to induce vertigo in your readers.
We have to please ourselves, but we must also please our readers. We cannot have a twist just for the sake of being different, if it is so contrary to the rest of the work that it makes our readers violently ill.
It's out there now. And although her readers are crying for a rewrite - telling others to skip the final installment and leave the end to the imagination - it cannot be undone.
If only someone had told her to wait. To think about the ramifications before she published.
I would like to believe that had an agent or a publisher been involved, they would have done for Ms. Hocking what my sister did for me. That they would have yelled and screamed and stamped their feet until finally she came to see that our view as writers is but one. Then, with the help of her agent/editor/publisher, found an ending that would have pleased both writer and readers.
Monday, March 14, 2011
There's Just Something About a Bad Boy
There's just something about a bad boy that is undeniably and universally appealing. They intrigue us, excite us, maybe even scare us a little. But still, we love them.
Is it any wonder then, that I find myself drawn most to the villans in my stories?
The primary antagonist in Bloodletting is a character by the name of Sam Grede. To say that I adore Grede doesn't even begin to describe the magnitude of my emotion. Grede is every bad thought, every bad action, all the deplorable behavior I keep in check and hidden beneath the surface.
(I know some of those who know me may be wondering at what point I keep my bad thoughts/behavior in check, but trust me, it could be a lot worse.)
He gets to say and do the things that law and civility keep the rest of us from doing, and he gets away with it. And for this, I idolize him.
That's not to say that I think it's a good idea to go around, like Grede, severing the tongues of those who talk back to us. But admit it, sometimes you really wish you could.
Is it any wonder then, that I find myself drawn most to the villans in my stories?
The primary antagonist in Bloodletting is a character by the name of Sam Grede. To say that I adore Grede doesn't even begin to describe the magnitude of my emotion. Grede is every bad thought, every bad action, all the deplorable behavior I keep in check and hidden beneath the surface.
(I know some of those who know me may be wondering at what point I keep my bad thoughts/behavior in check, but trust me, it could be a lot worse.)
He gets to say and do the things that law and civility keep the rest of us from doing, and he gets away with it. And for this, I idolize him.
That's not to say that I think it's a good idea to go around, like Grede, severing the tongues of those who talk back to us. But admit it, sometimes you really wish you could.
Saturday, March 12, 2011
It's Complicated
As part of my effort to be more social this year I decided to update my facebook page. Unfortunately, I stopped the instant it came time to choose a relationship status. This wasn't out of fear to admit that I am single, but merely because I was a bit overwhelmed by the number of options.
It seems that facebook has thought of every possible relationship scenario and developed a status for it. And for those which fall outside the realm of normalcy, there is the status I find most interesting: It's Complicated.
Looking over the status chosen by others I came to the conclusion that this status may be overused and greatly misunderstood. Being a writer, my brain had already went to work wondering what type of situation would legitimately qualify as "complicated". Because to me it would seem ridiculous to label something complicated when what you really wish to convey is that:
1) You're married to Tiger Woods or Charlie Sheen. Congratulations, your relationship is complicated.
2) Your significant other is any form of life sized doll, Japenese pillow, or hand puppet. You love it, wash it and care for it, just as you once did your deceased invalid mother/father/pet. Congrats, your relationship is complicated.
3) You return home early from work to find your husband of 15 years wearing your lingerie and makeup. Feeling relief at having been found out, he chooses this moment to tell you he's actually transgendered. He wants a sex change and for you to start calling him Helen. Congrats, your relationship is complicated.
4) He doesn't know you exist. You're one of his many friends on facebook just so you can steal his photos, photoshop yourself into them, and then proudly display them around your house while revealing the details of your latest "date" to your cat. Little does Fluffy know, your "date" was actually you watching his house from the bus stop across the street. Congratulations, your relationship is complicated.
5) You're comatose following an automobile accident. 3 months later you awaken with no recollection of who you are let alone the man claiming to be your husband who now expects you to have sex with him. You have to admit, you find him physically repugnant and his voice grates on your nerves. Congratulations, your relationship is complicated.
6) Your car breaks down while you are traveling along a deserted road in the middle of a blizzard. Walking to the nearest patch of civilization is impossible as you will die of exposure long before you reach it. You have no means of communication, no heat, no food, and no water. Desperate to survive one of you kills the other, dines on thier flesh and blood, and uses what's left over to create a meat suit to shield yourself from the cold. Congratulations, your relationship is complicated.
7) You're a spy. Your family meant only as a cover, but over the last 10 years, you've come to love the woman in bed beside you and the children down the hall. All you really want is a normal life filled with barbecues and dance recitals. But when a terrorist organization finds and kidnaps your wife, you're forced to choose between your loyalty to your country and your loyalty to the woman you were never supposed to love. Congratulations, your relationship is complicated. (Bonus points if you chose your wife and rescue her only to find she was an agent for the terrorists and your loving her was thier plan all along.)
8) You're a vampire. She's a human. You have an insatiable lust for her blood and a nagging headache from her incessant whining. She's clingy, perpetually PMSing and only mildy attractive, and you wonder why you don't just eat her already. Congratulations, your relationship is complicated.
9) You are marooned on an uninhabited island with only a volleyball for companionship. Years later, you're rescued and you return home to find that your wife, believing you dead, has remarried and started a new life where she doesn't even have time to visit your grave. Congratulations, your relationship is complicated.
10) Your wife hasn't spoken to you in nearly a year. Ever since a former patient broke into your home and shot you. Meanwhile you've begun treating a troubled young boy who claims he can speak to dead people. You try to help him while your wife seemingly begins an affair. In the end, the boy tells you that you're a ghost and you were actually haunting your wife. Congrats, your relationship is definitely complicated.
It seems that facebook has thought of every possible relationship scenario and developed a status for it. And for those which fall outside the realm of normalcy, there is the status I find most interesting: It's Complicated.
Looking over the status chosen by others I came to the conclusion that this status may be overused and greatly misunderstood. Being a writer, my brain had already went to work wondering what type of situation would legitimately qualify as "complicated". Because to me it would seem ridiculous to label something complicated when what you really wish to convey is that:
- You're currently in the middle of an argument and possibly not speaking to one another. (This isn't complicated. This is life.)
- You broke up, but you're not over him/her yet. (Guess what? Hate to break it to you, but you're single.)
- You don't like being single or the stigma associated with it so you think "it's complicated" lends you an air of mystery. (It doesn't, trust me. Just makes you look like a royal pain in the ass and an oscar winning drama queen.)
1) You're married to Tiger Woods or Charlie Sheen. Congratulations, your relationship is complicated.
2) Your significant other is any form of life sized doll, Japenese pillow, or hand puppet. You love it, wash it and care for it, just as you once did your deceased invalid mother/father/pet. Congrats, your relationship is complicated.
3) You return home early from work to find your husband of 15 years wearing your lingerie and makeup. Feeling relief at having been found out, he chooses this moment to tell you he's actually transgendered. He wants a sex change and for you to start calling him Helen. Congrats, your relationship is complicated.
4) He doesn't know you exist. You're one of his many friends on facebook just so you can steal his photos, photoshop yourself into them, and then proudly display them around your house while revealing the details of your latest "date" to your cat. Little does Fluffy know, your "date" was actually you watching his house from the bus stop across the street. Congratulations, your relationship is complicated.
5) You're comatose following an automobile accident. 3 months later you awaken with no recollection of who you are let alone the man claiming to be your husband who now expects you to have sex with him. You have to admit, you find him physically repugnant and his voice grates on your nerves. Congratulations, your relationship is complicated.
6) Your car breaks down while you are traveling along a deserted road in the middle of a blizzard. Walking to the nearest patch of civilization is impossible as you will die of exposure long before you reach it. You have no means of communication, no heat, no food, and no water. Desperate to survive one of you kills the other, dines on thier flesh and blood, and uses what's left over to create a meat suit to shield yourself from the cold. Congratulations, your relationship is complicated.
7) You're a spy. Your family meant only as a cover, but over the last 10 years, you've come to love the woman in bed beside you and the children down the hall. All you really want is a normal life filled with barbecues and dance recitals. But when a terrorist organization finds and kidnaps your wife, you're forced to choose between your loyalty to your country and your loyalty to the woman you were never supposed to love. Congratulations, your relationship is complicated. (Bonus points if you chose your wife and rescue her only to find she was an agent for the terrorists and your loving her was thier plan all along.)
8) You're a vampire. She's a human. You have an insatiable lust for her blood and a nagging headache from her incessant whining. She's clingy, perpetually PMSing and only mildy attractive, and you wonder why you don't just eat her already. Congratulations, your relationship is complicated.
9) You are marooned on an uninhabited island with only a volleyball for companionship. Years later, you're rescued and you return home to find that your wife, believing you dead, has remarried and started a new life where she doesn't even have time to visit your grave. Congratulations, your relationship is complicated.
10) Your wife hasn't spoken to you in nearly a year. Ever since a former patient broke into your home and shot you. Meanwhile you've begun treating a troubled young boy who claims he can speak to dead people. You try to help him while your wife seemingly begins an affair. In the end, the boy tells you that you're a ghost and you were actually haunting your wife. Congrats, your relationship is definitely complicated.
Monday, March 7, 2011
Recent Reads: The Rite
They say to be a great writer, you must also be a voracious reader. I know I am. I love to read and though I am often guilty of judging a book by its cover, I've never met a genre I didn't like. I will read almost anything if it's well written.
The problem I find, however, is that a lot of the stuff out there (especially the inexpensive/self-published books I can download on my Nook), just aren't.
In an effort to save you the trouble and perhaps some money, as I am quickly driving myself into debt with the "quick buy" feature on my Nook, I've decided to post my brief reviews of the books I've read.
The Rite: The Making of a Modern Exorcist, by Matt Baglio
Genre: Non-Fiction
Why I Chose It: The fact that I purchased a book about demonic possession and exorcism should come as no surprise to anyone who knows me. I'm fully prepared, however, to admit that I purchased it simply because it was adapted into a film starring Anthony Hopkins. What can I say? I'm just one of those people who has to read the book before I can see the movie.
Overview: In 2005, in an effort to combat the growing threat of the Devil, the Pope decreed that every bishop must appoint an exorcist for each parish. In America, where most priests view exorcism as antiquated and superstitious, where even a belief in the Devil as anything more than a metaphor is frowned upon, it is not surprising that there were very few takers.
Father Gary Thomas however volunteers for the job and travels to a Vatican sponsored course on exorcism in Rome. It soon becomes clear that in order for him to fully grasp the concept of exorcisms, he must see one performed. Thus begins Father Gary's search for and eventual apprenticeship with one of the Church's premier exorcists.
My Take: Be warned, this is not a novelization of the movie.
I'll admit I was expecting something different. I knew going into it that this was a non-fiction book, but I was still expecting to read things reminiscent of Linda Blair in The Exorcist. While there are a few scenes that made my hair stand on end, if these are the thrills you seek, look elsewhere.
If, instead, you want a compelling, hard to put down story that explains what the Church really teaches about demonic possession, what the priest and the victim experience, and the critical role of an exorcist in today's society, you've found it.
The problem I find, however, is that a lot of the stuff out there (especially the inexpensive/self-published books I can download on my Nook), just aren't.
In an effort to save you the trouble and perhaps some money, as I am quickly driving myself into debt with the "quick buy" feature on my Nook, I've decided to post my brief reviews of the books I've read.
The Rite: The Making of a Modern Exorcist, by Matt Baglio
Genre: Non-Fiction
Why I Chose It: The fact that I purchased a book about demonic possession and exorcism should come as no surprise to anyone who knows me. I'm fully prepared, however, to admit that I purchased it simply because it was adapted into a film starring Anthony Hopkins. What can I say? I'm just one of those people who has to read the book before I can see the movie.
Overview: In 2005, in an effort to combat the growing threat of the Devil, the Pope decreed that every bishop must appoint an exorcist for each parish. In America, where most priests view exorcism as antiquated and superstitious, where even a belief in the Devil as anything more than a metaphor is frowned upon, it is not surprising that there were very few takers.
Father Gary Thomas however volunteers for the job and travels to a Vatican sponsored course on exorcism in Rome. It soon becomes clear that in order for him to fully grasp the concept of exorcisms, he must see one performed. Thus begins Father Gary's search for and eventual apprenticeship with one of the Church's premier exorcists.
My Take: Be warned, this is not a novelization of the movie.
I'll admit I was expecting something different. I knew going into it that this was a non-fiction book, but I was still expecting to read things reminiscent of Linda Blair in The Exorcist. While there are a few scenes that made my hair stand on end, if these are the thrills you seek, look elsewhere.
If, instead, you want a compelling, hard to put down story that explains what the Church really teaches about demonic possession, what the priest and the victim experience, and the critical role of an exorcist in today's society, you've found it.
Friday, March 4, 2011
I Write Therefore I Am
...a writer. I think.
So often I read interviews with published authors who claim that we writers write simply because we need to. That there is a hunger deep within us that can only be satisfied when we put pen to paper, or nowadays, fingers to keyboard. And - though I'm certain they didn't feel this way when they were struggling with query letters and rejections - that it matters not whether we ever see our work in print.
We write for ourselves. Because we have something to say. Or in my case, because it's the only way to get the voices in my head to stop bugging me.
But which comes first, the author or his published work?
Are we an author merely because we've finished a piece of work? Or must we wait until our baby is deemed worthy by an agent and a publisher before we can call ourselves writers?
Is not an actor an actor, with no credits to his name? Is not an artist an artist even when only appreciated posthumously?
So often I read interviews with published authors who claim that we writers write simply because we need to. That there is a hunger deep within us that can only be satisfied when we put pen to paper, or nowadays, fingers to keyboard. And - though I'm certain they didn't feel this way when they were struggling with query letters and rejections - that it matters not whether we ever see our work in print.
We write for ourselves. Because we have something to say. Or in my case, because it's the only way to get the voices in my head to stop bugging me.
But which comes first, the author or his published work?
Are we an author merely because we've finished a piece of work? Or must we wait until our baby is deemed worthy by an agent and a publisher before we can call ourselves writers?
Is not an actor an actor, with no credits to his name? Is not an artist an artist even when only appreciated posthumously?
Thursday, March 3, 2011
If You Can't Say Something Mean...
We all remember the line from Bambi when Thumper, while being chastised by his mother for his rude behavoir, repeats, at her urging, one of his family's Golden Rules: If you can't say something nice, don't say nothing at all.
In general, I think we're a species that is programmed to be critical. Of ourselves and of others. Writer's, for the most part, are the worst of the lot. We agonize over every tiny detail in our own work, and when asked to review another's we give it the same kind of painstaking perusal we would our own. At least I thought we did.
I've been writing since I discovered I could string words together and form coherent sentences, but sharing my work is uncharted territory that I'm just now exploring.
My first step was allowing my family to read my manuscript. However, after hearing from each of them that they found my story to be well-written and thoroughly entertaining (or in my brother Joey's case "good", as this seems to be the only adjective he is ever comfortable using), I was convinced that they must all be lying.
It couldn't possibly be good. Let alone flawless.
I found myself wondering if maybe, out of affection for me, they had chosen to heed Thumper's words of wisdom. And so I took the next step: I joined a writer's critique group. Then after months of excruciating arguments with myself over the worthiness of my draft and even the validity of my belonging to a group of writers in the first place, I posted a snippet of my manuscript.
Now, I am hard-wired to go into everything assuming the worst. This way when things turn out better than I expect, I find myself pleasantly surprised. In this case, however, my negative outlook proved correct. Some of my reviews were not favorable.
While at first there were cheers of "well done" and words like "intriguing" and "captivating" were used, the instant a negative comment was posted, the dam broke and the flood waters came rushing in.
It seems these groups may have a bit of a 'mob mentality', as reviewers following this negative post latched on, almost as if they were now compelled to judge my work in the same exact manner as the one before them.
"OMG. Someone said this is wrong, so it must be", seems to be a common thought amongst critiquers. We go into it expecting to find something wrong, and if we miss this something and someone else catches it, well then we're not very good writers, are we?
There I was, near to tears, knowing that as a writer I must face it. I must take it on the chin, shake it off, and come back for more (we are a truly self-loathing, masochistic bunch). So I decided to take thier criticism and try to implement changes to my story, but try as I may, I couldn't find the flaw the naysayers had pointed out to me.
Then days later, when my head swirled with thoughts like "if I can't recognize it, they must be better writers than I am" and "they know more than I do", a stranger went out of his way to be kind and told me what I'd wanted to hear all along: that my story was fantastic and that the others were merely being critical for criticism's sake.
I won't go into details about what he said, but to say I was shocked would be an egregious understatement. I'm from Philly. This is not behavior we're accustomed to.
I've decided to take his words at face value, if for no other reason than because he didn't have to write them. Days had passed, presumably I'd either taken the others' advice and moved on, or cried myself to sleep and declared I would never write again.
I think too often we writers think constructive criticism must be just that - criticism. We can't simply tell someone that what they've written is good. There must be a flaw. We know it. We just have to find it.
We adhere to our own adage - If you can't say something mean, you're not helping anybody. But, really, if we're being negative just to be negative, what good is that?
In general, I think we're a species that is programmed to be critical. Of ourselves and of others. Writer's, for the most part, are the worst of the lot. We agonize over every tiny detail in our own work, and when asked to review another's we give it the same kind of painstaking perusal we would our own. At least I thought we did.
I've been writing since I discovered I could string words together and form coherent sentences, but sharing my work is uncharted territory that I'm just now exploring.
My first step was allowing my family to read my manuscript. However, after hearing from each of them that they found my story to be well-written and thoroughly entertaining (or in my brother Joey's case "good", as this seems to be the only adjective he is ever comfortable using), I was convinced that they must all be lying.
It couldn't possibly be good. Let alone flawless.
I found myself wondering if maybe, out of affection for me, they had chosen to heed Thumper's words of wisdom. And so I took the next step: I joined a writer's critique group. Then after months of excruciating arguments with myself over the worthiness of my draft and even the validity of my belonging to a group of writers in the first place, I posted a snippet of my manuscript.
Now, I am hard-wired to go into everything assuming the worst. This way when things turn out better than I expect, I find myself pleasantly surprised. In this case, however, my negative outlook proved correct. Some of my reviews were not favorable.
While at first there were cheers of "well done" and words like "intriguing" and "captivating" were used, the instant a negative comment was posted, the dam broke and the flood waters came rushing in.
It seems these groups may have a bit of a 'mob mentality', as reviewers following this negative post latched on, almost as if they were now compelled to judge my work in the same exact manner as the one before them.
"OMG. Someone said this is wrong, so it must be", seems to be a common thought amongst critiquers. We go into it expecting to find something wrong, and if we miss this something and someone else catches it, well then we're not very good writers, are we?
There I was, near to tears, knowing that as a writer I must face it. I must take it on the chin, shake it off, and come back for more (we are a truly self-loathing, masochistic bunch). So I decided to take thier criticism and try to implement changes to my story, but try as I may, I couldn't find the flaw the naysayers had pointed out to me.
Then days later, when my head swirled with thoughts like "if I can't recognize it, they must be better writers than I am" and "they know more than I do", a stranger went out of his way to be kind and told me what I'd wanted to hear all along: that my story was fantastic and that the others were merely being critical for criticism's sake.
I won't go into details about what he said, but to say I was shocked would be an egregious understatement. I'm from Philly. This is not behavior we're accustomed to.
I've decided to take his words at face value, if for no other reason than because he didn't have to write them. Days had passed, presumably I'd either taken the others' advice and moved on, or cried myself to sleep and declared I would never write again.
I think too often we writers think constructive criticism must be just that - criticism. We can't simply tell someone that what they've written is good. There must be a flaw. We know it. We just have to find it.
We adhere to our own adage - If you can't say something mean, you're not helping anybody. But, really, if we're being negative just to be negative, what good is that?
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
My Murtaugh List
This is a big year for me. It marks the official end of my youth. On November 20th, 2011, I will turn 30. I know, I know, there are people out there in thier forties, fifties, etc. that will groan and say they wish they could be thirty again. But if they think back, they will realize that they once felt the same mixture of panic and resentment that I am feeling towards an otherwise innocuous day.
30 is a big deal. It's the age when the other grown-ups around you start expecting you to act like one. In my family however, it has traditionally been met with a certain amount of regression, most of us preferring to continue living in a Neverland of partying, alcohol, and age inappropriate clothing.
The youngest of the four girls in my family, I will be the last to hit this major milestone - my sisters having already crashed into it with varying velocity - and I am determined to meet my birthday with grace and maturity. Thus, while watching a rerun of one of my favorite sitcoms, How I Met Your Mother, it occurred to me that I would need my own Murtaugh List to ensure success. So, below is a list of 10 things I vow never to do once I hit 30:
1) Kiss a Girl in Public - Really, at this point we should all be past our "bi-curious" stage and be either decidely straight, gay, or bi-sexual. And if we're just doing it for attention or to impress some guy, well, that's just pathetic.
2) Purchase Clothes form the Junior Section - There are plenty of beautiful items to be found in stores that don't specialize in cheap $5 T-shirts that express a desire to steal another girl's boyfriend and pants with words printed on the ass.
3) Wear Shimmery Pink Lipstick - Okay, so I've never looked good in pink and perhaps this is why I'm so quick to write this one off without remorse, but seriously, unless you look like Malibu Barbie, it's not working for you.
4) Develop a Crush on Justin Bieber - I will confess to currently having a huge crush on several of the boys from Twilight and Big Time Rush and even a small one on Freddy from i-Carly, but at 30 it borders on lecherous and may be just plain creepy to like a 16 year old.
5) Sleep with a Stuffed Animal - This one will be a tough one for me. My bed is currently occupied by a stuffed, wrinkly dog that's been with me since I was 3. It's going to be rough, but I think I can convince myself to at least hide him when I have company.
6) Sleep with Someone Whose Name I Can't Remember (or don't care to remember) - I was drunk. I was young. I was stupid. These are no longer acceptable excuses for poor and oftentimes dangerous decision making.
7) Drink Too Much at an Office Party - Trust me nobody wants to be that girl, and at this point your career should be far too important to jeopardize it with a reputation as a party girl or someone who's sleeping her way to the top.
8) Do Body Shots - Even if you're hot, this is just wrong. Leave this to the 20-somethings that can still blame the youth, the alcohol or the stupidity.
9) Dance on the Bar - See above.
10) Drink Cheap Alcohol - Life's just too short and the headaches are horrendous. My days of embracing a willingness to drink battery acid if it gets me buzzed are numbered.
30 is a big deal. It's the age when the other grown-ups around you start expecting you to act like one. In my family however, it has traditionally been met with a certain amount of regression, most of us preferring to continue living in a Neverland of partying, alcohol, and age inappropriate clothing.
The youngest of the four girls in my family, I will be the last to hit this major milestone - my sisters having already crashed into it with varying velocity - and I am determined to meet my birthday with grace and maturity. Thus, while watching a rerun of one of my favorite sitcoms, How I Met Your Mother, it occurred to me that I would need my own Murtaugh List to ensure success. So, below is a list of 10 things I vow never to do once I hit 30:
1) Kiss a Girl in Public - Really, at this point we should all be past our "bi-curious" stage and be either decidely straight, gay, or bi-sexual. And if we're just doing it for attention or to impress some guy, well, that's just pathetic.
2) Purchase Clothes form the Junior Section - There are plenty of beautiful items to be found in stores that don't specialize in cheap $5 T-shirts that express a desire to steal another girl's boyfriend and pants with words printed on the ass.
3) Wear Shimmery Pink Lipstick - Okay, so I've never looked good in pink and perhaps this is why I'm so quick to write this one off without remorse, but seriously, unless you look like Malibu Barbie, it's not working for you.
4) Develop a Crush on Justin Bieber - I will confess to currently having a huge crush on several of the boys from Twilight and Big Time Rush and even a small one on Freddy from i-Carly, but at 30 it borders on lecherous and may be just plain creepy to like a 16 year old.
5) Sleep with a Stuffed Animal - This one will be a tough one for me. My bed is currently occupied by a stuffed, wrinkly dog that's been with me since I was 3. It's going to be rough, but I think I can convince myself to at least hide him when I have company.
6) Sleep with Someone Whose Name I Can't Remember (or don't care to remember) - I was drunk. I was young. I was stupid. These are no longer acceptable excuses for poor and oftentimes dangerous decision making.
7) Drink Too Much at an Office Party - Trust me nobody wants to be that girl, and at this point your career should be far too important to jeopardize it with a reputation as a party girl or someone who's sleeping her way to the top.
8) Do Body Shots - Even if you're hot, this is just wrong. Leave this to the 20-somethings that can still blame the youth, the alcohol or the stupidity.
9) Dance on the Bar - See above.
10) Drink Cheap Alcohol - Life's just too short and the headaches are horrendous. My days of embracing a willingness to drink battery acid if it gets me buzzed are numbered.
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