Bitchin' Blog Posts
Random bits, and a drive-by rant
by Candy | October 05, 2005 | Wednesday at 10:29 pm | 32 CommentsWe moved last weekend.
OK, let me amend this sentence: We moved out last weekend, and are now deep in the process of unpacking and settling in.
I’m going crazy by slow degrees. Boxes are everywhere. The cats, after spending about 48 hours being afraid of rambunctious dust motes and Mars going into retrograde, are now having a great time at the new place. They especially love the stacks of boxes.
God, do they ever love the boxes.
Unpacking is made that much more interesting when a furry orange cannonball insists on leaping into the boxes as soon as I open them. Especially when the boxes contain pointy objects.
Locking him up in a room while I unpack results in the Unholy Howls of Much Grief and Mournfulness. Seriously, he makes it sound as if I’m beating him with a rubber hose. Forget sparing the neighbors all that noise—MY nerves can’t take it.
The upside is, I’ve become quite the accomplished cat tosser. I can now scruff, lift and launch in one smooth motion.
Anyway, that’s why I’ve been mostly absent the last week or so. Things are calming down. Sort of. I still have to sort my clothing and I have yet to unpack my 20 boxes of books (I don’t think all my other stuff combined took up 20 boxes), and one of the old bookshelves finally gave up the ghost, so I have to assemble a new one, but otherwise, the rooms are beginning to resemble living spaces instead of a replica of downtown Manhattan made from cardboard and Rubbermaid Roughneck tubs.
A sign of returning normalcy is that I’m browsing through the book section again when I go grocery shopping instead of powering through and grabbing only what I need because I need to go back NOW NOW NOW AND UNPACK GAAAH. I saw Passion by Lisa Valdez at the store yesterday, and I had to stop and check it out because I’ve heard so much about it.
I read the first couple of pages—the book starts with a letter—and I was struck by something. I’ll excerpt little bits of it below; let’s see if you noticed the same thing I did.
My Dearest Abigail,
What news I have! I hardly know how to tell you—you, my dearest and most trusted confidante, my girlhood friend and sister of my heart—you, who did warn me so directly and honestly what might happen were I to let my heart rule my head. (...)
I, Lucinda Margarita Hawkmore, am with child! A fact, I know, that in and of itself is not entirely remarkable. But wait, dearest, for here comes the revelation that will lift your brows ceiling-ward. [goes on to explain that she’s preggers with the OMGHOT gardener’s baby]
Now, my dearest, you mustn’t chastise me. As you know, I am completely devoted to my new lover, Lord Fentworth. And because I have already borne a Hawkmore heir, George, in his usual compliant, husbandly fashion, shall accept this child as his. (...)
With all my love,
Lucinda
Post Script: I know I can rely upon you to burn this letter.
So did you guys notice what I noticed? To be fair, this is a problem that’s endemic to romance novels in general. Hell, a lot of popular fiction in general.
I’m talking about spelling everything out in excruciating detail for the reader.
In that letter—a letter to an intimate acquaintance, providing scandalous, extremely private news—the letter-writer not only tells the recipient of the letter how exactly she’s related to her, but gives her full name, her husband’s first name, his title, the fact that she’s borne him an heir, the name of her lover and his occupation.
All this information being provided in one fell swoop—information that the recipient of the letter knows already? Kind of annoying.
In fact, if the letter is so sensitive that the letter-writer wants the recipient to burn it, wouldn’t she refer to things more obliquely instead of spelling everything out? Before the story even begins, I’m snapped out of the fictional scenario because if nothing else, I didn’t see why the declaration of the name would’ve been necessary. In fact, I would’ve loved having to guess which of the main characters is the bastard child later down the road.
When authors do this, I feel the same way I do when the people at the bank or the store start speaking extra slowly and clearly with me once they see that I’m Chinese, even though I speak and understand English just fine.
In short: I feel condescended to. I feel like the author has assumed certain things about my capacity to figure things out by myself, and I resent that.
The problem is, a lot of romance novels do this ALL THE TIME.
Another example:
How often have you seen foreign words being used, only to have the same word in English repeated immediately after?
Why the hell would the characters say something twice in a row, especially when they know the word in English in the first place? If understanding the foreign words is crucial to the plot, then make the meaning of the word obvious in its context, or provide a glossary at the back, or even have a character say “ENGLISH, MOTHERFUCKER. DO YOU SPEAK IT?”
But this awkward translation on the go? Fuck that shit. It’s not just unrealistic, it’s distracting.
Or how about all those times when there’s a Big Revelation, and the author goes into agonizing detail and spells everything out for you? Doesn’t matter if it’s the killer being unmasked or a Clarification of Misunderstood Lurve. Typically, the characters have an a-ha! moment, and words like “Of course, it all made sense now,” or “Now, thinking back on it, she suddenly realized that…” preface a lot of internal musing that snaps all the puzzle pieces in place neatly.
Argh.
The most egregious example of this sort of thing, however, isn’t actually part of a book per se. It’s the back cover blurb for Archangel by Sharon Shinn, which gives away EVERYTHING that’s gradually revealed to us, bit by bit, over the course of three books.
I read the back cover blurb for that book, and immediately felt the urge to slap the asshole who’d approved it. A huge part of the fun of the Samaria series was slowly putting the puzzle pieces together, and suddenly realizing exactly what the oracles did and how they communicated with God. Thanks to one measly paragraph, the joy of putting that puzzle together? Shot to hell.
All because some buttmunch somewhere probably decided that people wouldn’t be able to figure it out.
Part of the reason why I love books like For My Lady’s Heart is because the author takes the exact opposite tack: she assumes that we’ll be able to puzzle shit out on our own. Dialogue in Middle English? Hey, why the hell not? And no glossary, either—at least not for the first edition. It’s sink or swim, baby.
So, yeah, much as I love romance novels, I have to say: there’s a definite dumbing-down-for-the-masses vibe I get from many of them.
Oh, by the way? I realize I do some of these things when I write fiction. It’s part of what frustrates me so much about my own writing, and why I thought that last chapter of The Book of Angels was awkward and info-dumpy.
Filed: Ranty McRant
Paulo said on 10.06.05 at 12:08 AM • [comment link]
Paulo loves you,
~Paulo
Nicole said on 10.06.05 at 12:40 AM • [comment link]
I definitely agree that things have been dumbed down lately. It gets rather annoying.
Michelle K said on 10.06.05 at 12:41 AM • [comment link]
How often have you seen foreign words being used, only to have the same word in English repeated immediately after?
Maybe they should try the Lemony Snicket approach?
Tonda said on 10.06.05 at 12:43 AM • [comment link]
I HATE it when writers do this. I just critiqued an entry in a contest that did this constantly and it drove me nuts. Frankly, I’d stop reading right then and there and never pick the book back up (hence I ALWAYS skim the first couple of pages before buying a book).
celeste said on 10.06.05 at 12:54 AM • [comment link]
Thanks for the heads-up, Candy. Now I don’t have to waste the time reading the cover blurb and the first couple of pages. :-) As infodumps go, this one was a little above average in clumsiness. The letter writer not only sounds completely full of herself but also comes off like she’s high on a combination of X and meth.
I know you said you were worried about how well you worked backstory into your latest installment of TBoA, but in my opinion, you did just fine. I have a particular loathing for the “As you know, Mary, my dear parents passed away thirteen years ago when I was but a child, and you have been a mother to me ever since” crap, and nothing in your chapter threw up any red flags like that for me.
Lilith Saintcrow said on 10.06.05 at 12:58 AM • [comment link]
Candy Tan Wins Gold In Olympic Cat-Tossing Competition. Film At Eleven
Two things are involved here, both violations of hoary old author’s rules. First: never assume your audience is stupid. If they’re literate and reading your books, assume they’re smart enough to catch a hint.
Second: FOR F&^K’S SAKE, SHOW, DON’T TELL. A little bit of tell when you absolutely must is OK, but spilling everything all at once? Dammit. I hate that. Opening with a letter is a golden opportunity to set the whole tone of the book, to really suck a reader in and make ‘em scream for more, to seduce them into wondering about who these people are and wanting to find out more about them. Instead, this blows its wad too soon, leaving only drunken recriminations and shame. Sigh.
Rant over. Must go read something to get crappy letter out of my head…
Dee said on 10.06.05 at 01:18 AM • [comment link]
I have to admit, I wish I was Mrs Hawkmore. I’d get to nail a hot gardner (is HE the Lord whatisface? How many lords were gardners??) and my husband wouldn’t care in the slightest. Oh, and rather than have it a secret, I get to mail my best buddy about it, because it’s not really all that serious of a problem. Oh, and obviously, I can be stupid as hell and everyone will still want to sleep with me.
Thanks Candy! That’s one more book I don’t have to worry that I’m missing anything about.
As for my own writing—whimper—I’m going to have to go over my next submission and see if I have to slap myself, lol.
Good luck with the move!
Dee
Bonnie said on 10.06.05 at 01:34 AM • [comment link]
Before everybody gets up in arms about reader intelligence being insulted and whatnot, bear in mind the time period (far more formal than our own) and the setting, which I presume is European. Even today, European letter-writers REALLY dig their letter-writing. No quick emails dashed off, no post-cards with a signed-name-and-date-only - only the good, formal, exactly-where-I-am, exactly-what-I’m-doing, letters. So it might drive you nuts as a modern reader, and you might feel like you’re victim of a massive info dump, but the real case may be simply that the author was striving for authenticity of the European Letter Writing Sport.
Disclaimer: I know nothing about the setting or the plot, so take my uneducated opinion or not as you choose.
Candy said on 10.06.05 at 01:48 AM • [comment link]
Bonnie: Good point. It’s not the tone and wordiness I’m objecting to. It’s the repetition of what seemd to me to be redundant information that set off my alarm.
I’ve read a little bit of real-life correspondence from a similar era (England in the early 1800s, this novel takes place in the early 1850s, if I remember correctly) and not once did I see somebody summarize so much information that the recipient would’ve known already in such a short letter. (And this, by the standards of the time, was a pretty quick note.)
I’ve also read letters in which the compiler/historian had to insert footnotes, because the writers were referring to events and people obliquely, using code words and pet names, especially when talking about sensitive or taboo material.
OK, this woman was no James Joyce waxing rhapsodic about dirty bums and loud, schoolgirl-like farts. But notice how Joyce didn’t feel compelled to give to his lover his full name, her relationship to him, etc. etc?
I have to say, though, that I’m alarmed that people are writing Passion off so quickly, based on the excerpt I provided and my wild-eyed ranting. Please don’t. Books with rocky starts can be good, and God knows I’ve put up with this sort of malarkey from lots of other romance authors. Passion just happened to be the unfortunate lamb that was handy for the slaughter, because I’ve been peeved by this sort of writing in romance.
Candy said on 10.06.05 at 02:18 AM • [comment link]
Ooh, hey, one more thing:
“The letter writer not only sounds completely full of herself but also comes off like she’s high on a combination of X and meth.”
Actually, I think that was very likely the intention—I haven’t read the book yet, but according to the reviews and discussions, Lucinda is a bitch on wheels.
SB Sarah said on 10.06.05 at 03:09 AM • [comment link]
I am SO with you, Candy. But there are so many small ways in which the publishers and those outside the author’s realm also assume that the readership is rather dim, particularly, as you mentioned, some egregiously spoilerific cover copy.
Monica said on 10.06.05 at 03:26 AM • [comment link]
I think if there’s a hell, it consists of packing all your belongs and moving them to another domicile, them unpacking them. As soon as you got the last thing unpacked, you’d have to move again.
I get in trouble with my writing for the opposite thing, it seems—not telling and spelling it out enough. I believe in stuff happening. Some readers get accustomed to whatever they’re accustomed to—and find that when the backstory and explanations are within the action and character conflict rather than spelled out, jarring.
Laura Kinsale said on 10.06.05 at 06:00 AM • [comment link]
This seems to be another one of those “reader taste” things. As you’ve noted, I try not to rub things in the reader’s face in my books. If I can “show,” I will (though this isn’t always possible; sometimes you do have to spell things out.)
But “showing” does have a downside for some readers—they really do prefer to be told. Sometimes I hear comments which indicate to me that a reader completely missed or misunderstood something that was “shown” instead of “told” in one of my books. This makes me consider whether I wrote it clearly enough, or if I was too obscure. My rule of thumb for this is whether other readers “get it.” If someone does see it, then it’s there. But even when some readers get it, others just don’t see. They want to be told; that’s my conclusion. So I’m not sure I’d blame this entirely on a decline in the editorial or authorial technique. It may be more of a response to demand.
Personally, I prefer showing because I believe that when it works, it creates a much stronger emotional connection to the book. But apparently that isn’t the case for everyone.
LK
Jennifer Macaire said on 10.06.05 at 08:38 AM • [comment link]
I honestly didn’t tick on the whole name business - I just thought she was being ‘insufferable’.
The thing that shocked me was an aristocrat preggers with the gardener’s child?
Can’t she be more exciting and say it was the first footman or even the butler who did it? Gardeners are so ‘Desperate Housewives’. Back then, the gardener would have been lower than the scullery maid. A stable lad would have been more fun - all that rolling in the hay. Gardeners back then didn’t even wear gloves - so you can just imagine the dirt under the nails.
Darla said on 10.06.05 at 09:05 AM • [comment link]
Hah. I thought it was just me who thought the Fremdwort, foreign word, followed immediately by the English translation was komisch, strange. But then again, when there are a lot of foreign words I can’t figure out, it slows me down, and I’m likely to not pick up another of that author’s books (coffKathyReichscoff). I didn’t say I was consistent.
As for Passion... it’s one of the best romances I’ve read all year. Pay no attention to that prologue. I was at least halfway through the book before I figured out what it had to do with the story. I can’t wait to see what you have to say about it, Candy.
Amy E said on 10.06.05 at 03:01 PM • [comment link]
Shocking! Incredible! You will no doubt be amazed to learn that I, Amelia Elias, aka Amy Edwards, daughter of Terry and Kathleen, owner of three cats and two dogs, absolutely despise infodumpage!
Really, any letter that has the phrase, “As you know,” in it should be beaten within an inch of its life. If they KNOW it, why are you WRITING IT again??? Maybe it’s just me and my carpal tunnel, but if I’m dropping someone a note, I don’t bother rewriting all the stupid crap they already KNOW.
Now about that gardener…
EvilAuntiePeril said on 10.06.05 at 03:59 PM • [comment link]
One of the things I really enjoy about reading fiction is piecing together backstory and so on from the little clues. I’m more likely to keep reading a book that has me wondering why rather than just what happens next.
Admittedly there are degrees of acceptibility. I’m far more tolerant about this sort of clunkiness when it comes to contexts and world-building (historical or otherwise). In this case, I can understand why other readers might prefer things to be set out clearly at the beginning. So although I find it tiresome, I tend to just skim over these bits and go back if necessary. But when a character’s history is just dropped into the story in a big chunk not only does it drive me nuts, but it takes away many of my reasons for reading that book. I don’t get to know people that way, so it feels forced and awkward.
As for translating words in the text, all I can say is aaaarrrgggghhhh and double aaarrrggghhh. Especially if the meaning can be gleaned from the context, or worse still, the evil editing pixies have worked their wicked ways and it’s incorrect. I once read an entire book vainly waiting for the revelation that the heroine was being impersonated by a Frenchman because of her grammar when she used that language.
June said on 10.06.05 at 04:32 PM • [comment link]
The “Big Revelation” followed by the detailed rehash of plot has always made me roll my eyes, though I think it’s worse in movies. How many times could James Bond have been killed if the villain didn’t start bragging? Loved in “The Incredibles” when Frozone and Mr. Incredible are talking.
Frozone: “So now I’m in deep trouble. I mean, one more jolt of this death ray and I’m an epitaph. Somehow I managed to find cover, and what does Baron von Ruthless do? He starts monologuing. He starts, like, this prepared speech about how feeble I am compared to him. How inevitable my defeat is, how the world will soon be his, yada, yada yada.”
Monologuing. Love that.
Darlene Marshall said on 10.06.05 at 04:39 PM • [comment link]
The queen of “You must be _this_ smart to read this book” in fiction is Dorothy Dunnett. She takes no prisoners in her Lymond Chronicles, throwing out phrases in half a dozen languages without translating a damn word. Nothing is easily revealed—the reader has to pull it kicking and screaming from the plotline, but it’s worth the effort. Especially when you realize you are never in the protagonist’s POV except for one line towards the end of the series. Everything you thing you know about Lymond comes from his actions and the often wrong impressions others have of him, not from inside his own head.
It’s a master class lesson in show, don’t tell.
Tonda said on 10.06.05 at 04:54 PM • [comment link]
Bonnie wrote: “ear in mind the time period (far more formal than our own) and the setting, which I presume is European.â€
Candy wrote: “I’ve also read letters in which the . . . writers were referring to events and people obliquely, using code words and pet names, especially when talking about sensitive or taboo material.â€
I gotta say, a letter like this SCREAMS anachronism to me. The very fact that it IS an historical makes this “dump†worse, not better. Letters were not secure, and they were frequently opened and read while on their way from the writer to the recipient, hence the oblique references and pet names Candy referred to. The letters Lord Hervey wrote to his gay lover in the 1700s are freaken brilliant at this. If you’re “in the know†it’s not hard to figure them out. If you had no idea he was gay, or who his lover was, you’d never be able to figure out what he was talking about. If anyone hasn’t read about his guy, I HIGHLY recommend the biography “AMPHIBIOUS THING†by Lucy Moore.
EvilAuntiePeril wrote: “As for translating words in the text, all I can say is aaaarrrgggghhhh and double aaarrrggghhh. Especially if the meaning can be gleaned from the context . . .â€
I read a book recently that I really liked where the author kept doing this. Not only did she commit the faux pas, but she did it repeatedly for the same freaken word! “Yeah, lady. You told me what it was two pages ago, and then again in two chapters back, and oh, yeah, again back on page 6.†Sadly, I really liked the story, but the book did take flight a couple of times.
The one that really gets me though is when they tell us the same bit of background over and over. First we get to watch it play out, or listen to it as internal monologue, and then we get to listen to it as the character explains it to another character. PICK YOUR DELIVERY for fuck’s sake and stop covering the same ground twice. It’s BORING and shows a real lack of skill. Take a hint from film and fade to black . . .
Darla wrote: “Pay no attention to that prologue. I was at least halfway through the book before I figured out what it had to do with the story.â€
The Earl is being blackmailed and we have this for a prologue? It seem obvious to me what the connection is . . . my big question is what did the blackmailer hope to achieve? Born in wedlock = legitimate. It’s a done deal. If I’m wrong about how obvious the connection is, I apologize. The book has raves on Amazon, and that intrigues me, but if I’m right about the blackmailer’s issue, I’ll have to skip this one.
Gabriele said on 10.06.05 at 07:38 PM • [comment link]
The queen of “You must be _this_ smart to read this book†in fiction is Dorothy Dunnett. She takes no prisoners in her Lymond Chronicles, throwing out phrases in half a dozen languages without translating a damn word ... .
But woebegone if you try to write like that today. I had to tone down my use of foreign languages, and even spell out a characters feelings and thoughts now and then because people didn’t get it. I still don’t do it much, though; I don’t want to corrupt my writing.
Candy said on 10.06.05 at 08:01 PM • [comment link]
This seems to be another one of those “reader taste†things.
I was thinking about this last night, and you’re probably right. A lot of people like having everything laid out for them. It’s definitely by no means a new phenomenon; I’ve read quite a few older books that use the “tell the audience what you’re about to tell them, then tell them, then tell them what you just told them” technique of storytelling as well.
Oh, and here’s another fictional device I don’t like (but which I’ve used as well, HAAHAHAHAHA!): having the main character look into a mirror so the narrator has an excuse to describe what s/he looks like to the reader. Arrrgh! So much! Hateration! For! That! Method!
(But like I said: I’ve used it, too. Have I ever mentioned how very lazy I am? Because really, I am. Shockingly so.)
On a side note: I can’t even tell you how disappointed I am when I tell this joke, and people don’t get the punchline:
What’s the difference between a urologist and a hematologist?
Well, a hematologist pricks your finger….
I think it’s funnier to leave the last bit unspoken, but very few people I know have gotten the joke that way.
Monologuing. Love that.
Hee hee. Thanks for reminding me of that part! I loved how The Incredibles gave a verb to what super-villains do in spy and superhero movies, too. “Perhaps, before you die, you would like to know WHY I have tied you up to the Machine of Incredibly Painful Death by Pointy Objects, Mr. Bond? Well, it all started 20 years ago, when I was a young lad….”
Lilith Saintcrow said on 10.06.05 at 08:20 PM • [comment link]
This actually reminds me of Frasier. No, really. A friend of mine was telling me how the writers of Frasier were worried people wouldn’t “get” the jokes, and wondered if they should dumb them down. They ended up not dumbing, and were surprised when most people “got it.”
It’s my opinion that unless you’re satirizing, you shouldn’t assume your audience is doltish. I usually give any book the ten-page test: if it can’t interest me in the first ten pages, it’s sayonara, buddy. And one of the things that turns me off the most is this type of stuff: naming everyone and giving the hugest chunk of unnecessary backstory possible.
I’ve also read a lot of diaries and autobiographies from former historical eras, and I have to say: nobody who wrote as constantly and elegantly as most of the educated and economically-comfortable (which, let’s face it, were all the literate population until recently) would have penned something so stupid.
But hey, I’m notoriously picky when it comes to this sort of thing, so maybe I’m fine-tooth-combing it. :)
Monologuing. Love that.
Reminds me of Austin Powers, where Seth Green rolls his eyes and tells Dr. Evil to just shoot him in the head. I laughed until I snorted orange juice and vodka. (Ouch. That still stings.) Then again, I love Seth Green. Mmmh.
June said on 10.06.05 at 08:38 PM • [comment link]
“Reminds me of Austin Powers, where Seth Green rolls his eyes and tells Dr. Evil to just shoot him in the head. I laughed until I snorted orange juice and vodka. (Ouch. That still stings.) Then again, I love Seth Green. Mmmh.”
Me too, Lilith!
Hee…
SCOTT: Wait, aren’t you even going to watch them? They could get away!
DR. EVILl: No no no, I’m going to leave them alone and not actually witness them dying, I’m just gonna assume it all went to plan. ...What?
SCOTTl: I have a gun, in my room, you give me five seconds, I’ll get it, I’ll come back down here, BOOM, I’ll blow their brains out!
DR. EVIL: Scott, you just don’t get it, do ya? You don’t.
Hmmm…maybe we all just “don’t get it”.
BTW, Candy I also have an orange tabby who jumps into anything that I open…boxes, drawers, closets. The only difference is he becomes absolutely MUTE when he’s locked up somewhere. I inadvertently left him in the closet and didn’t figure it out till hours later. He’s quite talkative otherwise though!
Tonda said on 10.06.05 at 09:26 PM • [comment link]
Love the joke, Candy. I’m so going to tell it tonight at dinner and I’ll bet you $100 my friends laugh their asses off.
EvilAuntiePeril said on 10.07.05 at 02:31 PM • [comment link]
Monologuing and the Big Revelation:
The only people that should be allowed to do this are small Belgian men with enormous moustaches, strikingly percipient little old ladies from small villages with silly names and mildly raffish scions of the aristocracy sporting monocles. And only to a captive audience of suspects who interject with gasps! shock! and horror! before one either crumbles in shame or furiously rages at the fates while the stolidly unimaginative detective inspector takes them away. They would have gotten away with this new twist on the old deus ex machina device too, if it hadn’t been for you pesky kids…
Also 3 out 4 of my colleagues laughed at the joke, and the 4th one doesn’t have a sense of humour.
Sara Walker Howe said on 10.07.05 at 05:12 PM • [comment link]
Applause! Applause!
The same theory applies to cover art: it’s as if the publisher thinks we don’t know the book is a romance unless it has a pair of lovers melting in each other’s arms.
I’m hoping if we keep talking about the industry, and telling publishers what we want, maybe they’ll listen.
Candy said on 10.07.05 at 05:34 PM • [comment link]
Heh heh. I wonder what a cartoon featuring both Scooby Doo and Hercule Poirot would look like?
As for the joke: Above and beyond the unspoken punchline, telling it is hampered greatly when people ask “What’s a hematologist?” *headdesk*
Now that I think back, the only people who have laughed at the joke have been my American science geek friends. The non-Americans knew the meaning of hematologist, but they didn’t know about the OTHER meaning of the word “prick.”
Tonda said on 10.07.05 at 05:39 PM • [comment link]
We could start a mail-in campaign to make our point. >:) We’ll call it THIS COVER SUCKS!
Rip off the covers you don’t like (i.e. the ones you bought the book in spite of) and mail them back to the house like a postcard with a prefab sticker message. Suggested messages include:
“THIS COVER SUCKS. Enough with the clenches! Please look at other options.”
“THIS COVER SUCKS. Please tell the art department to crack a history book.”
“THIS COVER SUCKS. Please stop with the man-titty. The Incredible Hulk couldn’t brush his own hair, and neither can this model.â€
“THIS COVER SUCKS. If you insist on a giving good books clench covers, please hire artists that actually understand human anatomy.â€
etc.
I know AAR already has a best and worst cover contest yearly (god I love the snark in those comments), but obviously the art departments aren’t paying attention. To quote the band Fear, “Let’s start a war!â€.
Ok, tongue was firmly in cheek there, but maybe not . . . maybe I’ll add a page to my website called THIS COVER SUCKS and ask people to send the sucky covers (or an email about a sucky cover) to me.
EvilAuntiePeril said on 10.07.05 at 11:34 PM • [comment link]
Holy ignoble info-dump, I’ve just come across another form of this sort of literary crime. This is one that really winds me up whenever I come across it, so will add it for posterity’s sake. Details have been changed to protect the innocent:
Hero and heroine are driving along in car. Having finished discussing intricacies of heroine-in-frightful-danger plot to date, they move to “casual” conversation. This presumably is meant to indicate the “getting to know you” stage of courtship.
So what do they talk about? The town they are driving to. And how do they talk about it? Like a bloody Tourist Information Brochure, complete with anodyne anecdotes.
The conversation goes something like this:
“Have you ever been to Destinationville?” asked the heroine. “It boasts a number of architecturally stunning nineteenth century buildings as well as a fine historical museum.” she continued, her lips shimmering moistly in the lights of passing traffic.
“Indeed.” said the hero, changing gear smoothly and with masculine grace. “Founded in 1886 by the Philthee-Rytch family. My goodness, the founder of that family was quite a character.” He chuckled, continuing his fascinating conversation. “Apparently he made his money in less-than-savoury ways from a travelling burlesque carnival.”
“Yes,” the heroine agreed, her lips shimmering even more humidly as the hero masterfully drove his powerful car onward through the night. “He married late in life to a respectable woman from a wealthy family, and she devoted herself to the arts, assembling a fine collection of pre-Columbian artefacts.”
“There is also a marina with many delightful shops and boutiques by the historical harbour.” The heroine’s eyes sparkled with joy at the thought of purchasing some collectible chia pets during her stay.
As a first date conversation, it’s a bit of a stinker. And I’ve sexed it up a bit. Frankly I’d suspect the hero of working undercover for the Destinationville Tourist Board rather than the FBI or whatever.
So yes, research is good. Lots of research is better. But please, please try to shoehorn it into the book with a degree of grace…
Claudette said on 10.08.05 at 05:45 AM • [comment link]
I COMPLETELY agree with you about the Archangel back cover. Major info dump, and far more than was necessary. Archangel can be read as straight fantasy even if in the context of the series, it’s really sci fi. You wouldn’t know it from the book, and I recorded it as fantasy in my database, ‘cause, dang it, that’s what it is. It could even be considered inspirational, sort of, though from interviews I’ve read of Shinn, she’s pantheistic, not at all the sort that would fit in at Zondervan, say. The book is completely about faith, though.
Love the Samaria series.
I personally really enjoy authors that make me think. Connie Willis does the Middle English thing in The Doomsday Book. The heroine goes back to 1348 from 2056 or thereabouts to complete a practicum for her history degree. She’s supposed to have an internal interpreter to help with the langauge, but it doesn’t work. The reader gets the dialogue, but it’s not just in foreign tongue, it’s how the heroine perceives it, sort of vague and disoriented. I spent lots of time pouring over it trying to decipher what was going on. What a great way to give the reader the same feeling of confusion the main character is feeling!
Last winter I did a Dorothy Sayers glom to help dispel my romance slump. She’s another one who throws in foreign language and tons of literary references with no explanation at all. Placet, magistra?
C.
Alesia Holliday said on 12.23.05 at 11:57 PM • [comment link]
THANK GOD!!! I can’t believe I haven’t read your blog before - are we twins separated at birth?? I have been pulling my hair out at the seemingly wide-spread and widely accepted nonsense that romance readers are somehow not as bright as readers of other genres. Even some reviewers carry this notion forward - I’ve had reviews that mention I have too many characters that are hard for the reader to keep track of. Um, WHAT??? Think for a second about the Harry Potter books, the first of which was written for the 8-14 crowd. So, basically, an eight-year-old CHILD is more capable of keeping track of an interesting and diverse cast of characters than an ADULT ROMANCE READER???
I’ve also experienced copyeditors who made notes in the margins of mss saying things like “this is a very obscure literary reference” or “would your character really have such an advanced vocabulary?” or changing my subjunctive tenses to the incorrect verb forms. And, you know, this sort of thing makes me a little TESTY. I’m thinking bumper stickers with Mensa membership logos in one corner and ROMANCE READERS ARE BRILLIANT, TOO emblazoned across the front . . .
Alesia, who LOVES her smart, culturally literate readers
www.alesiaholliday.com
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