Category Archives: writing

NaNoWriMo 6: Daily Practice

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By daily practice I don’t mean I think you should or must write every day. If you want to and if it benefits your writing and your psyche, do write daily. If you can’t (and there are myriad reasons why people can’t or don’t want to), then write as you can on the schedule that works for you.

Just don’t beat yourself up about what is unavoidable.

If there is one takeaway I would hope readers would get, it is that line:

Don’t beat yourself up about what is unavoidable.

If you don’t get all the writing done that you were hoping to, especially under circumstances where you may simply have no choice, it’s okay. It happens.

This discussion came up often between my friend Michelle Sagara and me because we are both parents, and especially when our children were quite young there were days and emergencies and plain boring irritating interruptions that we could not control. I used to tell my children: “Don’t interrupt me unless there is fire or blood.” So it isn’t as if I gave them the message I was available to them at all times with no boundaries about my own needs and work. But some days work became impossible, and one of the lessons both Michelle and I (and others) had to learn was when to let go of what couldn’t be helped.

It’s important to be able to accept and move forward when you-as-writer (or creator) realize that this is one of those days or weeks where you miss your target. Letting go is better than holding on to the sense of failure. Let the short-term daily target be seen within the perspective of the medium- and long-term. If you set a goal of writing 1000 words a day, on 5 days a week, for 4 weeks, and you end up with 16,500 words instead of 20,000 words, you still have 16,500 words more than you did when you started.

I use the term “daily practice” in this context to refer to the general routine through which a person writes on a reasonably regular basis.

As a writer writing under contract, with deadlines, I personally find I must treat writing as work. That doesn’t mean it isn’t also inspiration, creativity, joy, and all the other lovely categories that speak to the intrinsic beauty and challenge of creative work. But I am also doing this to make a living. I personally can’t wait around for “the muse.”

That means my daily practice centers on moving forward at a steady rate toward a set goal.

I’ve learned a few things.

1) Set a rate that is generally do-able.

How much that is will change depending on your circumstances, how much time you have, how well you know the story you’re writing, your physical and emotional health (both big factors in your capacity to write well), and simply your skill level at producing words. Again, you won’t necessarily always meet the daily target but you’re aiming for a strategic goal.

1A) As a working writer I can’t just measure word count. I have to factor in time for 1. development, 2. revisions 3. edits, proofs, and other elements of the production process.

2) There isn’t one true way to proceed. Process is mutable and circumstantial.

Sometimes I have to feel my way forward. For me “feeling my way forward” is a slow process that creates an immense amount of what I will call slag: stuff I write that isn’t use-able later. In cases where I can block out a next scene decisively, knowing exactly what has to happen, why, and what people’s reactions will be and how the narrative arc of the scene goes, I find I can write far more quickly and efficiently than if I’m exploring and groping. But both ways — and others besides — are valid. A discussion of process is one for another post.

3) Build in time off.

No, really. Burnout is a real thing that happens. Some of the most productive writers I know build in time off into their writing schedules and still produce at extremely productive rates. I would suggest that the time off, the breaks and vacations, the periods in which you “refill the well,” all enhance productivity.

4) Always, always, be kind to yourself.

I mean this in the deepest sense. Struggling with internal negative voices is hard enough; I do it all the time. In my experience as a human being the negative self talk is about as beneficial and fruitful as turning that same talk onto a child or another person. I don’t know about you, but I know that my loved ones are especially responsive when I lecture, scold, rant, and yell . . . IOW, they aren’t. It’s okay to be kind to yourself. It’s not smarmy, it’s not weak, it’s not lazy; it’s both wise and humane.

 

 

Thanks to Erica Jane Archer on Twitter for suggesting this topic.

NaNoWriMo 5: Creating vibrant characters within a story

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How do we create vibrant characters within a story?

A long description of a character, his/her antecedents, personality traits, skills, and relationships, does not in fact tell me anything about that character.  Such a description only tells me what is in the writer’s head about that character.  This can be valuable information for the writer to know, perhaps even crucial depending on the flow and needs of the story.

But the way I, as the reader, learn about character in the story is through action and reaction and interaction (all actions):  I learn about the character through seeing what they do and what they say and what they think and how they respond to the crises and relationships of the story.  Nothing else ultimately matters in terms of character.

So, if you tell me that my forthright heroine always speaks her mind and is decisive, and yet in her first interactions with the powerful alpha male hero she stammers, is wrong about things, is shy, and tongue-tied, then you have lost me, because I will start disbelieving what you are telling me because what the character is doing contradicts it.

In fact, you don’t need to tell me anything about my forthright heroine, not in personality terms.  There may be things you, the author, will want to tell me, but be cautious about doing so. Because it is very likely you won’t need to if you can use character action and interaction to get across those same things.

[Aside: That I am a big fan of the adage “Show, don’t Tell” that doesn’t mean there are never appropriate times to use Tell as one of the tools in your writing toolkit.  There are.  You just need to know when and why it works.]

When the forthright heroine speaks her mind despite knowing she will be taken to task for it, or the hardened warrior buys flowers he doesn’t need from an indigent child when no one is looking, or the publicly-admired prince slaps his servants in private because the water in in his bath isn’t the right temperature, or the hard-bitten foul-mouthed tough-as-nails detective cries (or doesn’t cry) when she is alone because her dog has just died, or the chance-met traveler on a winter night gives her cloak to a beggar, you then know far more about the character than if I reeled out a list of adjectives.

Additionally, when characters meet other characters they already know, their responses and interactions will be governed by that prior relationship.  The writer doesn’t have to tell us.  Because we are band animals, we most of us can quickly suss out relationships through watching interaction.  So if Jo enters the room and stiffly shakes hands with Emma while standing as far away from her as possible but warmly kisses Cecilia on either cheek, we can guess something–maybe we don’t quite yet know what–about her relationships with the other two women.

More importantly, consider this:  Humans like to figure out other humans.  We evolved to observe, interact, gossip, and create relationships.

Creating a relationship between the characters is not all a novelist does.  We as writers are also creating a relationship between the character and the reader.

So ask yourself:  Why does the reader need to know all this stuff you have in your head?

What do we truly know about people when we first meet them?  In that sense, every new person we meet is “shallow” until we get to know them better.

During the course of a story, we are getting to know characters better just as we get to know new acquaintances better by spending time with them.  We learn about them through conversation, activity, gossip, and observation.  They don’t hand us a sheet of paper listing important things about their life they think we need to know, not unless they are applying for a job and handing us their resume.  To a great extent the author-supplied info dump is a resume.  And resumes are almost always dead boring to read.

That doesn’t mean we don’t exchange information.  We do that all the time, through dialogue, action, reaction, and interaction.  The occasional judicious Tell can also be a good place to release information of this kind, but only the information we truly need to know that can’t be better revealed in another way.

Furthermore, never, ever, underestimate your readers.  Readers don’t need everything spoon fed to them.  Readers like to figure things out.  Readers (not all readers; not all books) read in part to interact with the characters.  We are social animals.  Let readers be social in their reading experience.  Because one of the relationships you are creating when you write is the relationship between the reader and your story.

 

 

[Disclaimer: I wrote this post some years ago and am reprising it due to election night interfering with my desire to write a new post.]

NaNoWriMo 4: The small detail that builds a big picture

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In the first novel of the Crossroads Trilogy, Spirit Gate, I introduce Captain Anji who with his company of about two hundred soldiers is traveling toward the imperial frontier where war has broken out. He is on his way to take up an important command. Circumstances force him to journey entirely elsewhere, but for the purposes of this post let me discuss a salient detail.

Anji is called a “captain” because I did not want to make up words for ranks that the reader would have to learn. There was enough detail about this fantasy world that it seemed reasonable to me to go with basic terms like “captain,” “chief” (in its military usage), and so on. What I did know and needed to get across was that Anji is not only traveling to take up a major command more like that of a general but that he has significant status and rank in his own person regardless of his military rank.

As it happened my archaeologist spouse has since 2002 been employed under the umbrella of the Department of Defense working for the Joint POW/MIA Accounting Command (the “joint” in the title refers to a joint civilian/military unit). Because of this I have had a glimpse into the military that I might not otherwise have done.

While I was writing Spirit Gate I happened to be involved (at that time) in the unit’s Family Readiness Group, which is basically a support service network for the families of servicemen and women. During my time of FRG involvement, the general who was then commander of JPAC considered the FRG important enough that he made sure to be personally involved. Therefore I was able to observe him at a number of meetings.

I was much struck by a detail I would have never myself have thought to include (even though it is obvious once you stop to think about it): He had a young officer in attendance at all times. Obviously he had staff officers and a command structure, but this young man (who had the loveliest blue eyes, not that that is germane to anything) was in essence his “body man.”

Observing this I realized the presence of this “body man” was a telling detail that was missing from my depiction. I immediately gave Anji two “body men” (Sengel and Toughid) who are one or the other in attendance on him and on watch at all times.

There’s a lot you can know from this detail: Anji is an important enough man to warrant constant attendance, as well as needing a man at hand he can use to relay orders or run errands if need be, at any moment of the day or night. As well, Anji regards himself (with good reason, given his complicated history) as someone who needs to be guarded day and night. The presence of Sengel and Toughid, who rarely speak but who matter in the plot, also creates an expectation of constant military readiness, which can be seen as a good thing or as an ill thing, depending on your perspective — and it is exactly that perspective changing which matters in the larger thematic plot of the Crossroads Trilogy.

It is easy to fish up generic details as you write. I do it all the time, especially in first drafts when I may be paying less attention to the details than to the forward motion of the characters across the plot. At times not worrying about the details in the first draft may be the way to go; it can be easy to get bogged down and lose momentum. At other times it is crucial to slow down to seek out the specificity and even intimacy of those details within the setting that allow the deepest level of plot and theme to bubble up within their framework. Sometimes you cannot known the texture and look of such details without a serendipitous observation (such as the one described above). At other times it takes a concerted effort to research or experience an element pivotal to the setting or characters.

Whether in the first draft or in a later revising draft, I try to stop and think about what the details are telling me. I ask myself whether I am grabbing at facile answers rather than really digging for that small detail that by its existence unfolds a much bigger story.

NaNoWriMo 3: Finding the courage to write fiction

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For Renay.
I started writing fiction seriously when I was fourteen. By “seriously” I mean with intent to create a finished story through characters and plot.
Let me clue you in here. The stories I wrote as a teenager were terrible.
Fortunately at the time I did not understand that so their terrible-ness never became an obstacle to my ability to write them. For me the stories were great because I could write what I wanted, stories that spoke to me, ones that emerged from the images and desires churning in my mind.If looked at from this other angle, those stories were excellent because they provided the apprentice work I needed to start learning the writing skills I could use later.
In those days, writing for myself and with a sort of blissful ignorance about the world beyond, I unthinkingly carried my courage with me. In some ways I envy that state of mind now.
These days writing and I struggle; we wrestle, to paraphrase Joseph Conrad. Doubts carve chasms at my feet; fear lofts as high as mountains; at times I can’t see the other side even though I know I have made the journey many times.
What kind of courage does it take to write fiction?
Some might answer: None, not if you are just writing a story for yourself, not if no one will ever see it except you.
But having the courage to write fiction is not just about the prospect of sending fiction out in the world to make its own way. It isn’t just about making ourselves vulnerable by asking others to read (and judge) what we have written. It isn’t just about daring to submit a manuscript for publication, however risky and scary that can seem both because you-the-writer might fail but also because you might succeed.
I like to think of any given person not as a single discrete and thus finite entity but as a multiplicity of ever-shifting selves. Because we can continually grow and change, we are never static, and thus we are in constant communication with our past selves, our current self and its versions adapted to the various niches and corners of our lives, and our anticipated future iterations who are themselves capable of branching into infinity.There is a lot of cross-talk in our heads. Wherever ideas come from (and I really don’t know), they arise out of and in conversation with the deepest levels of this chatter. These wellsprings contain some of the purest and clearest expressions of our inner selves, the waters we want to tap for our most expansive creativity.But that chatter can create a lot of fences, too, ones we keep slamming into when we thought we were promised open ground running all the way to the horizon.

I don’t actually know how to give me, or you, or anyone the courage to write fiction. I don’t fully understand courage; probably after years of wrestling I have a better grasp of fear and anxiety.

So here is what I did many months ago when I had fallen in a crevasse of painful and despair-encrusted doubt whose icy walls seemed to give me no purchase for climbing out:

I made rungs of my fears.

I wrote them all down. It took me a couple of tries because I was reluctant to admit to the ones that impeded me most, the ones that dug hardest and most cruelly at the core of my sense of worth and respect and confidence. Then I stuck them on a sticky-note underneath my keyboard.

I don’t mean to suggest that doing this exercise will automatically remove all doubts. For one thing, that didn’t happen for me and I expect it never will happen. For another, people work in such varied ways that no one tool suffices for all.

Finding the courage to write fiction sometimes means finding the courage to fully admit the staggering range of your doubts and fears, and to see them for what they are: an expression of a part of yourself so entangled with your ambition and creativity and drive that the two can never fully become extricated.

NaNoWriMo 2: Go forth

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In Jewish synagogue practice, the Five Books of Moses are divided into portions, one for each week of the year. Each week the appropriate portion is read, and at the end of every year the entire Torah* will have been chanted aloud.

This week’s portion can be transliterated Lekh L’kha which is commonly translated as “Go!” or “Go forth!” God tells Abram (as he is called before he is given the name Abraham) to go forth, to leave the city of Haran where he has been living and to “betake yourself” (the literal meaning) to a new land.

In the Etz Hayim Commentary published by the Rabbinical Assembly of the United Synagogue of Conservative Judaism, a note to this verse (Jewish commentary is filled with lots and lots and lots of notes) mentions a midrash (commentary) that interprets “go forth!” to mean “Go forth to find your authentic self, to learn who are you meant to be.” [Mei Ha-Shi-lo-ach]

Another Jewish synagogue practice is what we at our synagogue call the drash. Roughly equivalent to a sermon, this reflection on or interpretation of the week’s Torah portion is often given by the rabbi but can be delivered by any adult Jew. It need not mention God, but it can. It can be directly or only tangentially related to the events related in that week’s portion. Often a drash will develop out of the drasher’s interest in a single incident, phrase, or even a single word.

As our synagogue is lay-led (has neither rabbi nor cantor), our drashes are given by members of the congregation (or sometimes by visitors). Today a woman (JR) transitioning out of the Army into civilian life talked about the command to Go Forth. In the army, such a command would be followed by a long checklist of preparation, possible delay, more questions, inventory, missing equipment, and more considerations that I cannot now recall.

In the Torah, however, when Abram is told to go forth, he just goes without question or hesitation. There’s no mention in the text of any preparation, inventory, or delay. He hears, and he goes.

In a way it’s like stepping off a cliff sure of your wings.

I want to briefly step back and note that I use the Torah as a vehicle for this post not because I care if people believe or do not believe. That’s immaterial to me. In this context I use it as a tool to frame questions and discussions.

I don’t know where the inspiration to write comes from. I’m not sure anyone knows. Creativity exists as an essential element of the human condition.

What I do know is that people develop a lot of anxiety about creativity, and thus about writing. Can I write? Should I write? Do I have permission, and if so, from whom? Is what I write worth reading? Will anyone care? Will I ever be any good? Can I finish? Does it matter?

One of the benefits of an exercise like NaNoWriMo is that it cuts through the questions, for the moment although not for always because the questions are always with us.

Sometimes we just have to go forth without hesitation. We have to step off the cliff and write.

 

 

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* Or one third of it, if the synagogue follows the triennial cycle, but let’s not confuse things.

NaNoWriMo 1: The Rules of Writing

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NaNoWriMo has become a venerable tradition, almost a holiday of sorts collectively celebrated by writers around the world. Its rules are straightforward: Participants are challenged to write 50,000 words of a new novel in the month of November.

You can sign up “officially” at the NaNoWriMo site and thus participate alongside hundreds of thousands of other writers. You can participate unofficially, just trying to make word goal or with your own somewhat altered goals (you might be working on an already started novel, for example). Some people love the idea, others scorn it. My own view is that the month itself can be a catalyst for some people, and I see that as a plus.

In fact, it’s what I’m doing. July 2013 through October 2014 have been a blogging hiatus for me (despite my seemingly constant presence on Twitter!) due to personal family reasons. However with three releases currently scheduled for 2015 I need to ramp up my online presence and get back into the habit.

Why? I don’t know. Probably no good reason except as a change of pace from writing fiction and because it makes me feel as if I am doing something productive.

Honestly, writing fiction in the privacy of my home (or at the anonymity of Starbucks) passes in a cloud of invisibility until there is a book on the metaphorical table. There’s nothing wrong with that. In many ways it is to the benefit of writers to not be constantly taking the temperature of the outside world (see this beautiful essay by Tricia Sullivan on the writer as amphibious).

To those who prefer to avoid this more plugged in and connected world I would say, Excellent! Do what is right for you!

For me, I need to talk a bit right now.

So for the month of November I’ll be writing up short blogs about writing and narrative, inspired by a Twitter conversation I had some weeks ago with Mahvesh Murad and Sunil Patel about the most basic building blocks of story and how to go from idea to narrative.

That means TODAY I will start with my RULES OF WRITING.

We must always start with the RULES OF WRITING, correct? Murder your darlings. Write what you know. The first sentence is the most important sentence. And so on.

I don’t really like “rules” of writing so I would rather give you Four Observations I have found valuable.

1. You can do anything if you can make it work.

2. As for writing process: Figure out what works for you (and then what works for any given individual project, because not all projects will process the same way).

3. Write what is in you to write.

4. Be persistent.

 

I’ll give each of those “observations” a separate short discussion in future weeks.

Meanwhile, whether you are participating in NaNoWriMo or not, if you are writing and whatever it is you are writing: Good luck!

Guest Post: D. B. Jackson on Top Ten Things I Do To Help Me Write

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I would like to welcome the fabulous D.B. Jackson (in 2012 he wrote a fine guest post on “the history that isn’t taught”). Today he tackles a rather different topic about tricks of the writing trade.

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Top Ten Things I Do To Help Me Write

by D. B. Jackson

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Let me start by saying that I love my job. I get to make up stories for a living. That’s an actual job; I get paid for doing that. It still blows my mind whenever I think of it. I would never dream of complaining about my job in any way.

Except to say that sometimes being a writer kind of sucks. Not a lot, mind you. I mean, I did just say that I love my job, and I even meant it. But there are a few things about it that I love less than others. And there are a VERY few things — one or three or seven — that I love less than I do, say, going to the dentist, or paying parking fines. Writing can be lonely (except for all the voices in my head, which never seem to pipe down). We writers work in isolation most of the time, and that can be difficult; it can also make us a little funny. Not in a ha-ha way, but more in a when-you-see-us-coming-you-really-ought-to-cross-the-street-and-avoid-making-eye-contact way.

The writing profession is not lucrative, at least not for most of us. Sure, there are a relative handful writers who make A LOT of money, and most of us (I’m really not supposed to say this, but you won’t tell, right?) hate those guys. A lot. And while the business end of writing doesn’t make us much money, it does come with more than its share of annoyances. Someday, when you’re at a bar with a writer (we spend a good deal of time in bars) buy him or her a drink and then ask about things like “reserves against returns,” “basket accounting,” and the way publicity dollars are distributed among authors in your typical publishing house. Actually, you might want to buy the author two drinks.

For these, and a variety of other reasons that none of us really understands, writers are pretty idiosyncratic. Or put another way, we’re all just a little weird. And every writer has his or her own habits and rituals that help us get through the work day.

Joking aside, we all do little things that allow us to be more productive, to stay healthy and sane, and to ensure that writing continues to be something we love.  And so, here is my list of “Top Ten Things I Do To Help Me Write.” Enjoy.

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1. I keep stuff on my desk — creative talismans of a sort — that help me maintain my focus. The most important item is a small ceramic sculpture of a Storyteller, the legendary figure of the Southwestern Pueblo cultures. I bought it in Acoma, New Mexico, in 1994 from a young girl whose mother was selling pot and bowls. At the time, my career was just starting and I didn’t know if I would make it as a professional writer. This Storyteller has been with me ever since. I can’t look at it without smiling and feeling fortunate to be a author.

2. Every book I have ever written has a bird of prey in it. Why? Well, I’m an avid birdwatcher and I love hawks and owls. And birds of prey figure prominently in my first series, the LonTobyn Chronicle (written as David B. Coe). It is another way of reminding myself that I’m here; I made it to where I want to be, and I should never, ever take for granted whatever success I’ve enjoyed. So, for whatever reason, I always put a raptor or owl in my books. Look for them — you’ll find them.

3. Lots of authors listen to music when they write. Lots don’t. I do, but only certain kinds — either bluegrass or jazz. Always instrumental. I find that the improvisational quality of the music actually feeds my creativity.

4. Every weekday, before I sit down to work, I spend an hour at the gym working out. For most of my day I am pretty sedentary. That workout in the morning makes me feel better, helps me look better, and keeps me sane. For the same reason, I only allow myself a single snack in the late afternoon. No snacking before lunch, and no snacking after lunch before 3:00 pm. I do keep myself hydrated all day, but I don’t use food as a form of procrastination. If I’m not healthy, I can’t be productive.

5. I set concrete, achievable goals for every day I write, and I make myself meet them. I write fairly quickly — not as quickly as some, but at a good enough pace that I can generally write a book of 100,000 words in about three months. I didn’t always write that quickly — when I began, I wrote about 1000 words (or 4 double-spaced pages) per day. My pace today is about 2500 words per day (10 pages). But the actual number of words is not what’s important. The key is finding a pace that works for you, that allows you to get your work done at a good clip, but that doesn’t set you up for failure each day by demanding too much.

6. Another of my desktop talismans is a horoscope that was published while I was writing my first book. Essentially the horoscope said that I should pursue my passion and dreams, and that I should ignore those who don’t think I can be successful. That’s pretty good advice, and having that horoscope on my desk ensures that I don’t forget it.

7. I write full time. I’m very lucky that way — it’s my only job. And I treat it like a job. I work Monday through Friday — I do relatively little work on weekends. And I also work regular hours — I usually knock off from work in the late afternoon (unless I haven’t met my word count goal for the day). My point is that I reserve time for myself, for my kids, for my wife. If I didn’t, I would have burned out long ago.

8. I keep moving forward. Sometimes I will be working on a scene and I’ll realize that there are things that need fixing in earlier chapters. But I do not go back and fix them then; instead I make a note in an “Edits” file and I keep moving forward. For me, momentum is crucial. As soon as I stop to revise, I lose my rhythm and energy and my work in progress begins to languish. Make notes and keep moving forward. That’s what works for me.

9. I always — ALWAYS — write with a dictionary and a thesaurus by my side. It’s not that I use a thesaurus incessantly to come up with new, novel, innovative, fresh words. (See what I did there?) But sometimes I’m stuck for a word. Sometimes I want to know the precise meaning of the word I intend to use. Sometimes I need to know when the word I’m considering entered the language. Between the dictionary and the thesaurus I can usually find the information I need.

10. Sometimes I don’t write. Sometimes I take a few hours off to hike or birdwatch or take my camera out and shoot some pictures. Sometimes I take my guitar out and play some music. I can’t write well if I’m not fresh, and I can’t stay fresh if I don’t do things that I love to do.

So there’s my list. Do you have one, too? What does yours look like?

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D.B. Jackson is also David B. Coe, the award-winning author of more than a dozen fantasy novels. His first two books as D.B. Jackson, the Revolutionary War era urban fantasies, Thieftaker and Thieves’ Quarry, volumes I and II of the Thieftaker Chronicles, are both available from Tor Books in hardcover and paperback. The third volume, A Plunder of Souls, will be released in hardcover on July 8. The fourth Thieftaker novel, Dead Man’s Reach, is in production and will be out in the summer of 2015. D.B. lives on the Cumberland Plateau with his wife and two teenaged daughters. They’re all smarter and prettier than he is, but they keep him around because he makes a mean vegetarian fajita. When he’s not writing he likes to hike, play guitar, and stalk the perfect image with his camera.

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Writing Through

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I posted this as a sequence of Tweets and wanted to log it here as well.

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Finally printed out my 4 single spaced pages of note from 2 hour phone call with my editor. I added these notes to the 20 page edit notes she subsequently emailed me (but which she had already written before she made the phone call).

This is the glamorous writing life, people. An editor who makes you dig and dig and dig is a treasure.

I wrote the bulk of BLACK WOLVES (my new epic fantasy) after my father died last fall because I had to do something. The 1st draft is a mess. In fact, I spent much of the time writing it wondering if I should just dump the whole idea, or dump writing in general. But I couldn’t stop. Stopping would have been like dying. Or like facing grief.

I forced myself through to a 200,000 word first draft because I had to, whether I kept the story or not. Because I knew I couldn’t trust the negativity in my head. I had to get it out regardless of the end result.

When I finally sent it to my editor I didn’t know if she would say, “Um, can we start over?” OR “Okay, let’s dig in.”

She said, “DIG IN.”

Sometimes being told you have work to do is the best gift someone can give you. Because it means the work is worth doing.

Jaran: When “what if” deals with gender and culture

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Recent discussions in the SFF community reminded me of this post. It is adapted from the introduction I wrote to the 2002 10th anniversary edition of JARAN, published by DAW Books. It was previously posted on Live Journal in July 2011, before this WordPress blog existed. I’ve made a few minor changes.

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Science fiction is often defined as a “literature of ideas,” and many famous SF stories can be identified by the idea, or nifty concept, or “what if” speculation that lies at their heart. Is my sf novel JARAN just a rousing adventure story with a romantic element, or is there some kind of science fictional speculation involved?

Glad you asked. Because I’ve discovered that people usually don’t ask. Too often they seem to just assume there isn’t because nothing in the book (if they’ve even read the book) fits the received and accepted definition of a sfnal “idea.”

What if, in a low-tech, chieftain-level pastoral society in which labor remains divided along a (fairly traditional by Western standards) gender line, women had real authority?

Not lip service authority. Not a lot of talk about women being the repository of honor in the home, or the teachers of the next generation, or the keeper of the house in a way that specifically limits them to the house, or the biologically equipped nurturing machines whose scriptural mandate is to be mother and helpmeet, but real authority: “The right and power to command, enforce laws, exact obedience, determine, or judge.” (The American Heritage Dictionary, 1976)

As authority, that is, held over all members of society and not just over children and social inferiors. And not just some women, those who by birth or accident or exceptionalism have managed to wrest authority for themselves out of a patriarchal society by being “as good as a man,” but all women.

What would such a society look like? How might it function to grant equal dignity to women and men and yet at the same time fit realistically into a broader world and with an understanding of human nature and the needs of survival in a low-tech world with a high mortality rate?

Over the course of envisioning and revising the book, I had to ask myself a lot of questions. Am I reinforcing notions of biological determinism by splitting labor along traditional gender lines as the average USA reader knows and expects them to be observed even today but particularly in our view of the past? Yet if I can only write women as “free and powerful” by freeing them from their “traditional” roles, am I not then implicitly agreeing with unchallenged cultural assumptions that devalue women’s labor and women’s experience? How can I mediate between these two extremes?

I don’t have an answer to these questions, although I can say that over time I’ve learned how fluid division of labor by gender is from society to society (as well as how fluid conceptualization of gender itself may be and how easy it is to fall into a binary definition of gender).

In terms of division of labor, for instance, in the jaran I made men the ones who embroider, but of course embroidery is not a universal female occupation; most USAians just tend to think it is.

In any case, in JARAN and the other volumes in the sequence I explore what respect and authority mean and how they might interact through and between genders and, by doing so, shape how the culture of the jaran tribes developed in the past and continues to develop when a disruptive new force begins to alter the social fabric of the tribes.

Yet I didn’t want to create a “matriarchy” in which women rule and men submit–an inverted patriarchy. I wanted to explore the idea of a culture in which all adult roles are truly respected. So I started with an assumption: For women to maintain authority, institutions within the culture have to support that authority.

I made the tribes matrilineal, and in addition borrowed from certain Native American traditions in which the right to hold certain offices and to inherit property follow down the female line.

I also made the jaran matrilocal: Under most circumstances, a new husband goes to live with his wife’s tribe. The locus of power within any given tribe centers on extended families of sisters. A woman’s relationship to her brother is considered to be the most stable female-male relationship, based on a shared mother and upbringing, and within extended families, cousins related through sisters or a sister and brother are considered like siblings (however, this is not true for cousins related through brothers).

In addition, women have possession of the tents and wagons, and they manage and distribute food and labor available to the tribe. As with the Haudenosaunee, jaran etsanas (headwomen) have the power to install or depose male tribal war leaders.

These familial, economic, and political relationships give women a network of support as well as a respect and autonomy that reinforces their authority.

Another aspect I played with was the cultural norms of sexual behavior. The hoary old cliché of male sexual aggression contrasted with female sexual passivity is still with us in American society in a multitude of forms. I chose to make jaran women the sexual initiators: They choose lovers at will when unmarried, and are free to continue to (discreetly) take lovers once they are married. However I gave men the choice in marriage. Although in practice almost all men (at the instigation of or with the assistance of their mothers and sisters) would negotiate with the other family first, it would be possible for a man to marry a woman whom he wanted but who did not want him. This contrasting pattern assured that neither sex had complete power over the other. Even in a strongly patriarchal society that is highly restrictive toward women, women will seek avenues of balance and redress when they can, including underhanded ones. History is full of such examples. I wanted to place mine right out on the table.

I catapult my protagonist into this culture without preparing her for it. Since she comes from a future Earth where the dregs of our patriarchal past still hold some sway over her way of thinking, she often has the opportunity to misinterpret what freedom and authority mean among the jaran.

When I look back at the book now, over two decades later, I can see ways in which my own thinking has changed, things I might have written differently but which reflect the era and attitudes with which I grew up and the ways in which my thinking has changed since then.

Ultimately, looking back, I wish that discussing my speculative ideas behind the jaran society weren’t still timely. To quote sff writer N. K. Jemisin in her excellent post on “The Limitations of Womanhood in Fantasy,” “Here’s the problem with this wholesale rejection of both societally-imposed and self-chosen “typical” women’s behaviors — in the end, it amounts to a rejection of nearly all things feminine. And that’s definitely not good for women.”

That’s the idea I was trying to explore, back then. We’re still struggling with it now.

Writing Update w/ News

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As many of you know, the Spiritwalker Trilogy is complete, together with two coda stories: The Secret Journal of Beatrice Hassi Barahal (with the most awesome illustrations by Hugo-nominated artist Julie Dillon) and The Courtship (told from the point of view of Andevai). I have a few more Spiritwalker short stories in progress, including one that involves . . . babies (for those of you that like that kind of thing). Again, thanks to all of you who have so enthusiastically read Cat’s story (and to those who read it and were more lukewarm; honestly, I appreciate people reading my books however it goes.)

For my two latest projects I have been working on a YA fantasy (which will be published as a YA and not in the adult sff field) and a new epic fantasy (first of a series).

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COURT OF FIVES is now the more official title of the YA fantasy formerly known as MASK (not yet fully confirmed but I think this is going to be it). It is fully revised and in production for a Summer 2015 publication date (the wheels of production grind slowly in YA publishing; they like lots of lead time to promote their titles).

This is the “Little Women meet the Count of Monte Cristo in a fantasy world loosely inspired by Greco-Roman Egypt” story that I’ve mentioned before. I wanted to write an epic fantasy that centered around girls, and telling it through the story of four sisters struck me as absolutely the way to go. In my dry, laconic way I am TOTALLY EXCITED about this book. It is definitely the fastest paced and most streamlined thing I have ever written, without losing the details and (I hope) complexity that I love.

(A younger) Hideo Muraoka would be pretty close to my head canon for the love interest:

 

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Meanwhile, I have turned in a draft of THE BLACK WOLVES to Orbit Books. This is the first volume of an epic fantasy series and, again, I wanted to center a story around women (3 of the 5 point of view characters are women and their points of view get about 75% of the page time in this volume). Having said that, I should note that I believe all the characters are great and (I hope) varied.

Here is the current description:

SOME CHOICES CAN NEVER BE UNDONE.
He lost his honor long ago.
Captain Kellas was lauded as the king’s most faithful servant until the day he failed in his duty. Dismissed from service, his elite regiment disbanded, he left the royal palace and took up another life.
Now a battle brews within the palace that threatens to reveal deadly secrets and spill over into open war. The king needs a loyal soldier to protect him.
Can a disgraced man ever be trusted?

I know, I know, it seems like it’s all about a dude, but trust me on this. Not that I have anything against dudes! I am sure that 50% of the characters in this book are men and I love each and every one of them. Especially Captain Kellas.

THE BLACK WOLVES is also currently scheduled for 2015.

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Finally, I have a forthcoming collection of short fiction (and four essays) coming out with Tachyon Publications, to be titled THE VERY BEST OF KATE ELLIOTT. (Truth in advertising: it is actually “all the short fiction Kate Elliott has written in her career so far except for a couple of Spiritwalker-related stories and with the addition of two new novelettes to sweeten the deal”).

Much more on that later.