Comments for fomagrams

Comment on are YA reading levels really that flat? by Gwenda

Gwenda — Thu, 08 May 2008 11:16:06 +0000

Honestly, the aggregate data pool gets so small for those grades that I suspect it actually is a flaw in the data. My guess is that only a fraction of teachers actually continue to use Accelerated Reader programs to track reading in h.s., and that it may even be for not-so-accelerated readers. I’m going to quiz my mom about it, next time I talk to her — she’s a retired principal and still audits school systems for the state.

That said, I’ve no doubt that those years are when all the people who don’t read that much as adults establish new, less read-y habits.

Comment on voice, what is this thing called voice? by delzey

delzey — Sat, 03 May 2008 16:02:43 +0000

You know, in my retail past I handled enough paper currency in large amounts that I know that to be true. Most counterfeit money is printed on paper, and most money is actually printed on a cotton-based cloth (which is why it doesn’t crumble into a pulpy ad in the washing machine) which can be felt. Yes, you can be told what specific elements to look for but nothing can train you to know a bad bill by feel. I’m almost certain that, if blindfolded, I could still tell real from fake by feel. Just an aside.

I feel the same way with “authentic” boy voices. And in a slight update to this post, I’ve decided to ignore the topic “suggested” in favor of a comparative portrait of a totally different connective theme I discovered: boys protecting girls.

In ruminating on this idea of boys and voice I discovered a sort of historical continuum of exaggeration that defines boy characters. It’s a lot larger an idea than a small essay, one I’m considering for a thesis down the road.

Comment on voice, what is this thing called voice? by LJ

LJ — Sat, 03 May 2008 00:21:03 +0000

I was once told that when banks want to teach tellers how to recognize counterfeit money, they don’t have the tellers compare and contrast. They never let the tellers touch a counterfeit bill. They just have them handle the real thing, over and over and over again, in all its forms– new and crisp, soft and worn, ripped and stained. The tellers learn what true money feels like and a thousand little identifying details are absorbed through their fingertips, impossible to explain or analyze.

And then when the counterfeit comes along, they know it. It just feels wrong.

I think it’s the same with a boy’s voice. If you’ve been around boys, seen the whole spectrum in all their variety, lived with them, raised them, taught them, been one or loved one, you just get a feel for what a boy is, and what a boy isn’t; you acquire an ability to recognize that in writing, whether your own or someone else’s. And it’s just about impossible to analyze, but it’s also very very easy to recognize when you’ve got it wrong.

Comment on the great divide by delzey

delzey — Wed, 30 Apr 2008 02:21:13 +0000

Ya know, I wasn’t sure whether or not to really post this without particulars and it wound up being a little too black-and-white.

This list isn’t news to you, but what I found interesting about the Guardian’s 50 Best Cult Books list is how many of those books teens read. But they’re books that weren’t initially intended as YA books, and that gets me started on another topic.

As for me, I was a sucker for dystopias, and books where the adults — all of them — act like idiots. As a teen, that was an important thing to realize.

For those who want to see the Guardian’s list:
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/arts/main.jhtml?xml=/arts/2008/04/26/nosplit/boanotherlist126.xml

Comment on the great divide by Gwenda

Gwenda — Tue, 29 Apr 2008 14:58:06 +0000

Interesting–on the one hand, I know exactly what you mean. On the other, I think this is actually less of an issue in children’s literature than it is in the adult fic world. The divide between literary and commercial seems easier to cross or at least possesses a certain amount of overlap; I can think of a fair number of books that are both incredibly well-crafted and also really popular. I can also think of lots of books that are more literary that are the perfect book for a much smaller number of kids–that doesn’t mean no kid would be excited by them, just that they are by definition appealing to a somewhat smaller audience (Octavian Nothing would be a prime example). One thing that the children’s lit world does (to a degree) is to champion those kind of books and open them up to a potentially larger audience.

I mean, I was a weird kid who read everything. I read books that were way sophisticated from a very young age–maybe even too sophisticated. (And I read them alongside crap, and truth be told, they excited me MORE.) I loved literary fiction, especially wacky magical realist stuff from Latin America, as a teenager. There are all sorts of kids out there, is my point, I guess, and I suppose we can only write for the ones we understand… to an extent. I do believe that the lessons of commercial fiction, especially structure, can benefit more literary work, and making more inherently appealing to a wider audience–without selling out the literary value.

That’s my favorite kind of book to read, actually, either for kids or adults–the “meaning of life thriller.”

Comment on crossroads by delzey

delzey — Tue, 22 Apr 2008 04:38:32 +0000

Thanks for the reality check, LJ. I shudder in both horror and recognition at the idea of 21 drafts. I’m not looking for short cuts, just a simple sign that says I’m on the right road. I’m impatient, but I can relax if I know the journey and the destination line up eventually.

I keep thinking being published will at least remove some of the edge. Sometimes I think that’s the lie tell myself to keep moving forward.

Comment on crossroads by LJ

LJ — Mon, 21 Apr 2008 04:51:58 +0000

You’re doing the work, sounds like. The work itself will inform you.

You just come up with different ways of listening to what it’s saying. For me, at different stages, it’s been taking naps, working all night, taking a break, stacking stones, drawing the characters, talking out loud, morning pages, sitting in the woods for hours, playing with shells, interviewing my characters on paper, doodling with gel pens. Eventually the story decides to stop stonewalling and you can get on with things.

And for me, the roadmap looks like a feather-stitch. I go along straight then veer off… and when I realize the tale has lost energy and direction, I backtrack to where I last felt it was right, and begin from there. Eventually I veer off in another direction– back up, go on again. This is why my books have 21 drafts in my computer.

But you have something there with the death and resurrection show. Only it’s a long death and a slow resurrection. No short cuts for the real thing.

Comment on poetry friday: complete-the-found-poem by cloudscome

cloudscome — Sat, 12 Apr 2008 10:53:50 +0000

satisfying exercise - thanks!

Comment on poetry friday: complete-the-found-poem by cloudscome

cloudscome — Sat, 12 Apr 2008 10:52:06 +0000

balance is neither
created nor
destroyed

a given view
always contains
exactly the same
illumination or shadow
by tilt of attention

Comment on poetry friday: complete-the-found-poem by Ventania

Ventania — Fri, 11 Apr 2008 06:48:14 +0000

Time is neither
created nor
destroyed

a given of a your time
always contains
exactly the same
bit of hope
by your side

Comment on crossroads by Gwenda

Gwenda — Mon, 07 Apr 2008 11:57:14 +0000

Ha, I wish. I remember Tim saying to me early on in the first semester that the most important thing any writer ever discovers is his/her process.

Two things I’ve done in the same place you’re at (though I tend to find the character’s voice pretty early, but still have to keep pressing at the character and revisiting the structure so that I end up more or less starting over at least a few times): try a different point of view or (it sounds hokey, but sometimes it works) write myself a letter from the main character. But I’m a weirdo in all these respects. I change the tense when I do a major revision, that sort of business.