Archive for the ‘Fiction’ Category

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137: Legal Notice

October 10, 2009

To whom it may concern: Terence Kuch, author, is on this date (October 10, 2009) claiming the first commercial use of “Truda Vallon” as the name of a fictional character, and claims trademark protection therefor. Formal application to USPTO is pending. A work of fiction including this character, by name, is in progress and under contract, and is scheduled to be published in 2011.

FYI: At 10a.m. Eastern Time, October 10, 2009, a Google search on “Truda Vallon” resulted in no occurrences being found.

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134: How to Punctuate Dialog in Fiction

August 28, 2009

How to Punctuate Dialog in Fiction

What five authorities have said [abridged], followed by my summary and recommendations.

Source 1: The Dabbling Mum

from http://thedabblingmum.com/writing/grammar/punctuation.htm

Interior Dialogue – depicts a character’s non-verbal thoughts. Use of quotation marks to set off interior dialogue depends on the writer, according to Chicago Manual of Style. However, many fiction text books discourage the use of quotation marks in interior dialogue. Interior dialogue can be depicted in italics or plain font.

Ellipses: Use ellipses to show faltering, fragmented, speech or dialogue; enclose in quotation marks.

Use em dashes to show abrupt interruptions or broken off dialogue. Again, dialogue is enclosed with punctuation marks.

Correct: “It’s . . . well—”

Use of ellipses shows faltering, fragmented speech enclosed within quotation marks.

Correct: “It’s. . . well—”

Example correctly uses the em dash to portray abrupt, broken off dialogue.

Incorrect: “It’s, well—”

Example is punctuated incorrectly, if the writer intends to portray faltering, fragmented speech.

Source 2: Playwriting 101

from www.playwriting101.com/chapter12

When one character interrupts another, use double dashes (–) or an em dash (a long dash) to show that the speaker is being cut off. Below, I make use of an em dash. No need to write “interrupts.”

HUGO

If my Dad said we’re moving just like that -

CHARLIE

You’d move. Hold this cone

(holds out the ice cream cone)

a sec?

Using ellipses ( … ) does not signify that a character has been interrupted, but rather that she hesitates or trails off of her own accord. For example, Pac can’t bring himself to ask a question:

PAC

Would you … ?

CANDY

Would I what?

Source 3: Deviant Art

from http://wordcount.deviantart.com/art/Punctuating-Dialogue-A-Guide-73936110

[the dash in dialogue]

A dash can be used in dialogue for two reasons (in addition to the standard uses for the dash in prose writing): to represent a shift in tone or to represent a break or hesitation in thought.  This is different from the ellipsis (…), which should only be used to represent dialogue that trails off and is likely to begin again.

An example:

“My only purpose has been to stop the madness that was started seven years ago. I cannot afford the risk of–” was all he said, not finding the courage to finish the sentence.

Another example:

Tabitha sighed again and brushed a loose strand of black hair behind her ear. I’m just . . . sick of all the drama going on.”

“Yeah, you and the rest of the world.”

“Whatever.”

Another example:

“Then talk to me. What’s going on? I know there’s more that you haven’t told anyone.”

She took a deep breath. “Yeah . . .”

“Well?”

“Dad’s company needs him in Houston by the end of next month.”

“Okay . . .”

“We’re moving in three weeks.  The company already has a house for us there and will take care of selling ours.”

“So, it’s really gonna happen,” he said softly.

“I don’t care about having more . . . more stuff!”

In both texts, we see the ellipses but no dashes. Remember, a dash is used to show a hesitation or break in thought or a change in tone. An ellipsis, on the other hand, is used to show thoughts that are trailing off and/or can be picked up again. The difference is subtle, but it’s there.

In the first example, the speaker very obviously cuts off what he is saying and has no intention of picking it back up again. It’s a break in thought and, as such, should be represented by the dash.

In the second example, the ellipsis is used correctly. “I’m just . . . sick of all the drama going on” shows a trailing off that has every intention of picking the conversation back up. It’s not an abrupt change of tone or thought, even though it is a pause, and as such the dash would be inappropriate.

In the third example, we have quite a few things going on. With “Yeah…” the speaker is very obviously trailing off in both thought and speech. It’s not an abrupt break or a change in thought, simply a hesitation. As such, either convention would be appropriate depending on the author’s intention. Using “Yeah—” would represent a cut off with no interest in continuing the conversation in that direction. “Yeah…” shows that the speaker is hesitating and trailing off and probably would like to continue the conversation if given the chance to find the right words (or some gentle prodding). As such, I believe the ellipsis is more appropriate here but, again, either the dash or the ellipsis would be acceptable.

The appropriate way to use the ellipsis is not just through intent, but also in how a writer should punctuate what comes after the ellipsis when that ellipsis is, for all intents and purposes, the end of the sentence. This is the age-old, “Do I really put four dots in a row?” question. The short answer? Probably.

When using the ellipsis in dialogue to end a sentence one must make two decisions: 1) am I putting my punctuation inside or outside the quotation marks and 2) what punctuation mark should end this sentence. The ellipsis used inside quotation marks should never be the end punctuation for the sentence. In other words, “Okay…” should either be “Okay….” with the four dots inside the quotation marks or “Okay…”. with the period outside of the quotation marks. It could also be “Okay…?” or “Okay…”? or “Okay…!” or “Okay…”! (etc.) depending on what the writer intends. Whichever way is most appropriate and comfortable, that end punctuation must be present.

[internal dialogue]

If quotation marks are not being used to represent dialogue anywhere else in the piece, they can be used to represent internal dialogue; all standard rules would apply. If double quotation marks are being used to represent regular dialogue elsewhere in the text, then single quotation marks can be used for internal dialogue—but this can get messy and is often avoided. Internal dialogue is most often italicized in place of using quotation marks, with the dialogue tags in regular print. Observe:

I can’t believe I’m doing this, Amy thought. I can’t believe I actually agreed to go.

Instead of using quotation marks, one sees the italics and is quickly able to differentiate between something said aloud and something thought. Internal dialogue is also one of those places where the dash might be helpful to differentiate thoughts and speakers, but italics seem to be the preferred method.

[rules for reference: punctuation]

A comma should always separate the quotation from the dialogue tag.

[for American publications] Periods and commas go inside the quotation marks, and all other punctuation (semicolons, question marks, dashes, exclamation points) goes outside the quotation marks.

If a dialogue tag (e.g., he said) interrupts a sentence, it should be offset by commas; when this occurs, the second part of the quotation should begin with a lowercase letter.

A change in speaker equals a change in paragraph.

The ellipsis (…) should only be used to represent dialogue that trails off and is likely to begin again.

The ellipsis used inside quotation marks should never be the end punctuation for the sentence. You need to add end punctuation after the dialogue.

Source 4: Ginny Wiehardt, About.com

Use a comma between the dialogue and the tag line (the words used to identify the speaker: “he said/she said”):

“I would like to go to the beach this weekend,” she told him as they left the apartment.

[for American publications] Periods and commas go inside the quotation marks; other punctuation — semicolons, question marks, dashes, and exclamation points — goes outside unless it directly pertains to the material within the quotes.

In general, don’t use double punctuation marks, but go with the stronger punctuation. Question marks and exclamation points are stronger than commas and periods.

When a tag line interrupts a sentence, it should be set off by commas. Note that the first letter of the second half of the sentence is in lower case.

For interior dialogue, italics are appropriate, just be consistent.

Source 5: Grammatically Correct, by Anne Stilman

In dialogue, the em dash serves to indicate broken-off speech. One speaker can interrupt another:

“They simply happen to regard sex as both a physical and a spiritual experience. If you think I’m–“

“So do I! So do I regard it as a wuddaycallit–a physical and spiritual  [Salinger]

A speaker can stop abruptly without being interrupted:

And when I found the door was shut,

I tried to turn the handle, but–”  [Lewis Carroll]

A break can come in the middle of a word:

“Ri–,” he starts, then stops angrily.  [Ken Dryden]

The dash also serves to indicate speech that is scattered or faltering: that is, not interrupted by a second speaker, but by the speaker breaking off a thought and starting another, or talking in disjointed sentence fragments.

“She says she is afraid there will be draughts in the passage, though everything has been done–one door nailed up–quantities of matting–my dear Jane, indeed you must. Mr. Churchill, oh! you are too obliging. How well you put it on–so gratified! … Well,  [Jane Austen]

Compare the above uses of the dash with those of the ellipsis.

If you can’t produce [an em dash] on your typewriter or word processor, type two hyphens ( — ).

You may either leave spaces around a dash or have the dash lie directly against the words it adjoins. Be consistent.

Whichever style you choose, do not put a space before a dash that is being used to interrupt dialogue in the middle of a word.

When a dash is being used to indicate broken-off dialogue, follow it immediately with a closing quotation mark. Do not add a comma.

“How was I supposed to–” she sputtered indignantly.

Do not put any other punctuation immediately adjacent to a dash, with the exception of a question mark or exclamation point before a closing dash. Even if the text that is broken by dashes would otherwise take a comma or semicolon, do not include it.

Text that is enclosed within dashes may contain any punctuation mark other than a period. Parentheses should be avoided if possible, as the construction of an aside within an aside would be awkward.

Do not employ both a single dash and a pair of dashes in the same sentence, as it would then be unclear which text is enclosed by the pair.

Summary and recommendations

1 interior dialog (thoughts)

The alternatives are:

1a Ordinary Roman (non-italic) font, if it’s clear from context that we are reading thoughts, not speech. This alternative is always preferable, so long as it’s obvious to the reader that thoughts are involved, not actual speech.

1b Italics. This is the most common practice. However, if italics are being used for another purpose in the work (e.g., for quoting a book), then also using italics for interior dialog could be confusing or graphically distracting.

In standard submission format, italics are represented by underlining. This practice dates from the days when typewriters were used, and italics were not available.

Large blocks of either italic or underlined type are less easy to read than ordinary Roman type; their use should therefore be held to a minimum.

1c Single quotation marks for thoughts, where the writer is using double quotation marks for speech. This practice is uncommon, but there are precedents and it can be effective.

Single quotation marks are standardly used for speech within speech, e.g., “I said ‘Stop that!’ but he wouldn’t listen.” In a particular work, if speech within speech is frequent (as in some of Conrad’s novels), then single quotation marks should not be used also to indicate thought, to avoid confusion.

Whatever alternative is chosen should be applied consistently throughout a work.

Imagined speech (addressed in thought to another person) may be graphically represented as normal speech, not as internal dialog.

2 interrupted speech

The most common practice is to use a single em dash to indicate an interruption, abruptly broken-off dialogue, or a shift in tone.

A pair of hyphens ( — ) can be used in manuscript to indicate an em dash. This is useful where the em dash could be garbled by the receiving word processor.

Some word processors auto-correct two consecutive hyphens as a single em-dash character. It is advisable to delete this auto-correction, so that two hyphens remain two distinct characters. The publisher can convert these back to em dashes as needed.

3 speech trailing off (not interrupted)

The most common practice is to use an ellipsis ( … ) to indicate speech that trails off or fades out and is likely to begin again; also to indicate faltering or fragmented speech. (This is different from, and in addition to, the ordinary use of an ellipsis to indicate missing or redacted text.)

In some cases it may not be obvious whether a dash should be used, or an ellipsis.

4 spacing and punctuation of ellipses

Examples of acceptable practice:

(a) “almost eight years now, if…”

Ÿ The ellipse precedes the ending quotation mark.

Ÿ There is no comma before or after the ending quotation mark.

Ÿ There is no space before or after the ellipsis.

But, as in the following example, when an ellipsis separates two words without any other punctuation, it is advisable to put a space both before and after the ellipsis, as an aid to the reader.

(b) “It’s … it’s a boy!”

ŸIf the ellipsis ends a sentence, then it gets a final ‘.’ making four, instead of three, periods in a row. However, ‘trailing off’ expressions are usually fragments, and rarely constitute sentences. For an example of an ellipsis that does end a sentence, see “Okay….” in Source 3.

ŸSome writers letter-space the ellipsis ( . . . ), but this is generally inadvisable. It also distorts the word count.

5 spacing and punctuation of dashes

Examples of acceptable practice:

(a) “How was I supposed to–” she sputtered indignantly.

The dash precedes the ending quotation mark.

ŸThere is no comma before or after the ending quotation mark; the dash sufficiently indicates a pause.

There is no space before or after the dash.

(b) “My God!–” he gasped.

ŸIt is acceptable to place an exclamation mark or a question mark immediately before the dash — but not to excess, and doing so is usually unnecessary.

(c) “before the dash — but not to excess”

When a dash separates two words without any other punctuation, it is advisable to put a space both before and after the dash, as a help to the reader.

Even if the text that is broken by dashes would otherwise take a comma or semicolon, do not include one.

(d) “It’s … well–”

“Shut up, Murgatroyd!”

ŸFaltering speech followed by an interruption. There is no period after the interrupted expression (because it isn’t a sentence), but there must be a paragraph break if the interruption is another character’s speech, as in the example.

(e) “It was a case of ‘hyperexcitement.’”

The (unfortunate) American rule is that the period goes inside the quotation marks, whether or not it logically belongs there. In this case the result appears to be a triple quotation mark, which is impossible. Inserting a space between the two closing quotation marks, so: “…‘hyperexcitement.’ ” is not accepted by editors.

5 paragraphing

[In narrative (not in dialog)]

Paragraph-length is a question of rhetoric, not grammar. Keep paragraphs short, but not too short. About 50 words is typical for most modern fiction. However, many consecutive paragraphs of similar length makes for dull reading; vary the length.

Very short or single-sentence paragraphs can be used for special effects, such as when a startling fact is revealed, or as an ironic comment on the preceding (longer) paragraph.

[In dialog]

If there is a change in speaker, there must be a change in paragraph, even if (at the extreme) the characters are speaking to each other in single-word speeches:

“No!”

“Yes!”

“Never!”

“Not ever?”

The question of judgment arises when narrative intervenes between two speeches. How should the following be paragraphed? (Sentences are numbered for this exercise.)

[1] “Or she,” Donald added. [2] Claire looked up abruptly. [3] “They don’t really do that for girls, do they? My folks sure never did that for me!” [4] “Well –.” [5] Donald snickered. [6] “O great feminist,” he said, “do you think it’s just boys who have their backs up against the wall?”

We need at least four paragraphs here, because there are four speeches, alternating between Donald and Claire. But in which paragraph do sentences [2] and [6] belong? With their preceding sentences, or with the sentences that follow them? Or by themselves in separate paragraphs?

In this example, the answer is clear. Sentence [2] introduces Claire’s speech, and should be paragraphed with sentence [3]; likewise for sentence [5] together with [6]. If, however, we have a different sentence [2],

[2] He waited expectantly for her answer.

then [2] would belong with [1], not with [3].

But in the following example, the answer is not so simple.

[1] “The birth was eight years ago, Donald. Dr. Gordon’s probably moved on by now. Or died. He wasn’t young, remember?” [2] Just as the same topic had so long ago, once again nothing came of it. There was quiet for the exact amount of time needed to signal a change of subject. [3] “Look,” Donald began, “I marked up those drawings again and I need to drive over to Danbury and drop them off for Harman.”

Passage [2] could be paragraphed with passage [1], or with passage [3], but not both. Or it could stand alone. Considering that [2] is from the point of view of a third person external to both characters, and considering that it is a change in tone both from what goes before and what comes after, it could have its own paragraph. This, again, is a question of rhetoric, not grammar.

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133: Idiom and Cliche

August 28, 2009

What’s the difference between idiom and cliché? Refer to books on usage, and dictionaries, and other sources — various fine distinctions are offered, but most seem to be distinctions without a difference. And look at dictionaries of idioms and dictionaries of clichés — their entries frequently overlap.

Consider this view: a cliché is an idiom that hasn’t settled into the language, that still feels uncomfortable to us, and in which the literal meaning still jars against the metaphorical. In personal terms, a cliché is a turn of phrase that didn’t exist when you were young. If you grow up with a cliché it sounds natural; the literal meaning doesn’t intrude. It is, for you, an idiom.

“O’clock” is an idiom: we don’t think of clocks when we say “o’clock”, even when we’re staring straight at one. When the sun is directly overhead on June 22, it is still twelve “o’clock” even if there’s no clock within miles. At some point in history, “o’clock” [“of the clock”] must have sounded strange; must have sounded like a cliché once more than a few people used it.

As a fiction writer, both idioms and clichés substitute for original thought and should be avoided in third-person narrative where there are suitable alternatives. Dialog is different: spoken language thrives on idiom and cliché; how they are used or not used in a story can help define character.

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132: Useful Words for Writers

August 28, 2009

The following list of words was pulled from dozens of junk emails (I always read my junk emails — they’re usually more interesting than the unjunky ones). Many of these are actually real words, just very rare. All could have their uses in fiction, especially in the higher forms of fantasy.

afreet

agaze

ahull

avouch

axunge

baboo

bewray

busk

pise

cess

chare

coatee

dicer

dossil

dree

eld

aver

soph

hurra

taluk

adit

dor

elytra

felloe

fossae

ganger

gasper

genet

glaive

gurry

gypsa

hist

hollo

imbrex

ingle

jalap

kail

keeker

loth

luting

morgue

nopal

oakery

oaky

oneman

pant

penes

perse

phut

pilule

pitpat

pleach

pomelo

potboy

pottle

pouchy

puddly

pultun

pyedog

quartn

quire

rappee

riband

roquet

ryot

samp

satis

scop

scree

shewn

sniffy

spruit

stodge

sudd

targe

teasel

teazle

toman

valuer

wold

yaffil

zoic

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130: Lazy Pronunciation

August 28, 2009

Some words aren’t easy to pronounce: arctic, antarctic, infrastructure, February, vulnerable, temperature; and there are plenty of others.

But respect our language; take the time to say it right.

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128: Lost Fathers

August 28, 2009

Fathers don’t get a great press in the TV series Lost. Only one dad (Jin’s father) is presented as a good man. The rest are never mentioned, or [as of the end of Season 4] …

Jack’s father is an alcoholic who performs surgery while drunk

Claire’s father (same man)

Kate’s father is a wife-beater and makes sexual advances to his daughter

Hugo’s father deserts his family for 17 years, reappearing only when Hugo wins the lottery

Sawyer’s father commits murder and suicide after being conned by the ‘real’ Sawyer

Sun’s father is a millionaire who views murder as a legitimate business tactic

Locke’s father is a con man who robs his son of a kidney and tries to kill him

Walt’s father (Michael) is a murderer

Aaron’s father deserts his pregnant wife

Ben’s father blames him for Ben’s mother’s death, continually belittles him.

– I wonder about J.J. Abrams’ father !

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126: For Writers: ‘Hint’ Fiction Anthology

July 30, 2009

See //www.robertswartwood.com/?page_id=8, or navigate to “Hint” via Duotrope.com.

Hint fiction (n) : a story of 25 words or fewer that suggests a larger, more complex story — an idea that should intrigue any writer. Take a look!

Anthology Guidelines

Tentatively scheduled for the fall of 2010, W.W. Norton will publish an anthology of Hint Fiction. The thesis of the anthology is to prove that a story 25 words or less can have as much impact as a story 2,500 words or longer. The anthology will include between 100 and 150 stories.

It’s possible to write a complete story in 25 words or less — a beginning, middle, end — but that’s not Hint Fiction.

Payment is $25 per story for World and Audio rights.

See details of submission requirements and procedures via the link above.

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106: Capital Punishment

May 28, 2009

Concept for a short story:

The future: All those on death row are released to serve life terms. But the government has realized that, although killing its own citizens represents the ultimate expression of state power and serves as a useful caution to its citizens, it is no longer necessary to indiscriminately kill dozens or hundreds of people each year: a single death will do.

The government has also realized that the death of a common rapist or murderer, no matter how deserved, does not fully engage the passions of the public. The scum, they will say, have their reward; and they will shrug their shoulders.

No, there is a difference between the merely brutal and the truly evil, they say. And so the one man or woman to be killed each year, with full offices and ceremonies of state, must be evil. Only in this way can the public be fully engaged, complicit, equally guilty with the state in the commission of this killing.  So the quest began for the single most evil man in the country. Not an easy quest, because members of the government were exempted by statute, as were the leading professional sports figures, college deans, and of course lawyers. Other protected classes were added, the deserving poor, the undeserving poor, the huddled masses, the rich, the very rich, and … and …..

And that is why Melvin H. Robertson, an insurance adjuster from Campbellsburg, Indiana, the only one in America not exempted from capital punishment, found himself one day on death row.

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105 The Comma, Again

May 8, 2009

The comma serves three masters: grammar, rhetoric, and logic. Sometimes [,] these masters may be at odds.

(1) Consider this sentence from a short story: “After dinner I carried out the garbage.” Grammar requires a comma after ‘dinner’, and normally the writer should provide one. But consider rhetoric: we may want the comma there, or not, depending on how the writer is shaping the story’s rhythm and narrative voice. The choice is a judgment as to which master must prevail this time.

(2) Sometimes none of the masters is happy. Consider this sentence (from Dana Milbank’s column in the  Washington Post, 1 May 2009):

“The stated purpose of the hearing was to examine whether merchant ships need private or military security on board.”

This sentence could mean either:

(a) “The stated purpose of the hearing was to examine whether merchant ships need private or military security on board, or no security at all.”

or

(b) “The stated purpose of the hearing was to examine who should provide on-board security for merchant ships: private firms or the military.”

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93: Story idea- “The Paris Zoo”

April 12, 2009

1870, Paris: The starving hordes attack the zoo and eat the animals. **

1870, Paris, alternative history: The starving hordes attack the zoo. The zoo-keepers eat them. They give the less-desirable body parts to the animals.

** This is, apparently, historical fact.

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92: Story Idea- “The Cult”

April 12, 2009

Anne’s younger sister Marcia joins a cult of fanatics living in squalor in an old house. After two years, Marcia tries to leave the cult, is relentlessly harassed by the cult members, pestered day and night, brow-beaten, compelled to witness at their meetings, etc. They make her life the proverbial living hell. After several more months, Marcia, in desperation, kills herself.

Anne, blaming herself (perhaps unjustly) for not having done enough to prevent Marcia’s suicide, founds an activist group dedicated to preventing young people from joining cults.

The group draws in other affected people, is immediately successful. It receives grants, starts an online newsletter, establishes a modest office in the low-rent district. Anne quits her job, begins to give very successful lectures, appears frequently on television. The movement grows, has a Board of Directors and officers, grants, a growing budget.

After two years, Anne is burned out and feels that she has done all she can for the group. She attempts to resign. The Board refuses her letter of resignation. She quits anyway. She is relentlessly harassed by the group’s members, pestered day and night, brow-beaten, compelled to give more and more lectures, solicit more and more donations, speak at group meetings, etc. They make her life the proverbial living hell. After several more months, Anne, in desperation, kills herself.

Anne’s older sister, Helen, blaming herself (perhaps unjustly) for not having done enough . . . . . . .

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73: A Fiction Writer’s Exercise

February 6, 2009

I typed-off a David Foster Wallace story a few days ago. It was only 708 words, but typing it gave me a feel (literally – in the fingers) for what he is doing, how well he does it. Reading is good, but not the same, because it’s mostly passive. If you force yourself to write the words he wrote, in the same order, with the same rhythms, you experience the story as a writer. When your fingers stumble, that’s a sign he’s doing something you haven’t learned to do yet — structure, wording, tense, dialog. There’s an awful lot that David Foster Wallace does that we writers haven’t learned to do.

(“Only the copied text commands the soul of him who is occupied by it, whereas the mere reader never discovers the new aspects of his inner self that are opened by the text …” –Walter Benjamin)

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72: Writers: Do You Use a Thesaurus?

February 6, 2009

My contribution to a discussion about thesauri in the About.com Guide to Fiction Writing:

“I use, very frequently, the edition of Roget’s published in 1965 by St. Martin’s Press — a wonderful reference book, although time-consuming and clumsy to use. I think that publishers of alphabetical thesauri just don’t understand the thesaurus concept, or how one can best be used. I would be pathetically grateful if someone would publish Roget’s in a PC-loadable/searchable format. I have yet to find even a barely adequate thesaurus on disk or on the Web. This includes thesaurus.com, the thesaurus on the American Heritage Dictionary disk, and the thesaurus function of Merriam-Webster on line. With so much marginally useful stuff on the Web, I would hope that someone could put Roget’s there.”

[Gutenberg.org has a Roget's, but it's from 1911 and without hypertexting or other user tools]

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69: Terence Kuch’s Recently Published Short Stories and Plays

January 24, 2009

“How the Foot Came to Be”. A faux-folk tale about shoes, and feet, and a very clever woman. in: Abacot Journal. http://abacotjournal.wordpress.com/archived-issues/current-issue-3/how-the-foot-came-to-be/

“The Dragon’s Will”. A robot programmed to help autistic children helps both them and himself. Anthologized in: Bewildering Stories. http://forum.bewilderingstories.com/anthologies/AR08_antho3.html

“Simon Says”. A man trapped in a mysterious prison suddenly finds a way out. in: Labyrinth Inhabitant. www.labyrinthinhabitant.com/simonsays.html

“The Different Mosses”. There is a high wall in the back of her yard. Her mother and father won’t talk about it in front of her or her brother. Available in print and audio in: qarrtsiluni. http://qarrtsiluni.com/2008/12/31/the-different-mosses

“Thirteen Channels” [published under the name 'Karl Krausbart']. Thirteen paragraphs in which uncomfortable things happen to the same people, in different ways. in: Slow Trains. www.slowtrains.com/issue2/krausbartissue2.html

“Clickers”, a one-act play for four characters. Election night: a dark horse candidate is winning a U.S. Senate race. Then the forces that put him in office exact their price. in: Oregon Literary Review. http://orelitrev.startlogic.com/v3n1/OLR-kuch.htm; vol 3 no 1, Winter/Spring 2008

Previous fiction and poetry published in Timber Creek Review, North American Review, Dust, New York magazine, Commonweal, etc.

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67: Availability of The Play of Anne

January 16, 2009

The Web site www.britishinformation.com/drama-play/ has an obsolete email address for me, re availability of this play for groups wishing to produce it. The current email address is terencekuch (at) ymail.com. The play may be licensed free of charge, subject only to the proviso that I be identified as the author.

Here’s what britishinformation.com has posted about this play:

The Play of Anne : a drama of the Restoration

By Terence Kuch

Summary

This vibrant play, based on historical characters and events, brings vividly to life the struggles of the early English Reformation under Henry VIII, where a wavering king, passionate Calvinists, and adherents of the Pope vie not only for supremacy in the church, but for the success or fall of the Tudor line, and life or death for themselves. The heroine is Anne Askew, “a poor knight’s daughter”, accused of not believing in the miracle of the Mass, and put on trial for her life by the Church. But the secular forces are also interested in Anne, not for her heresy (which they care nothing about) but because she may incriminate the Queen, their enemy. In the midst of the trial King Henry himself unexpectedly appears, ready and eager to interrogate Anne personally (as he did, historically, in several heresy trials). The outcome turns on Anne’s determination to defend her conscience against both Church and State, and against the extreme Protestants who see her as a tool in their own power struggle.

Background

It has been twelve years since Henry VIII broke finally with Rome. At that time, Henry’s vicegerent, Thomas Cromwell, established limited tolerance for Protestantism, and its influence grew. But now Cromwell is dead, and Henry sees the growing Protestant movement as a threat to his crown. Schismatic he may be, but Henry is determined not also to be a heretic, and has taken a hard line with the Protestants, including burning them at the stake. But unknown to Henry, the Protestant cause is favored by some within his own household — even those closest to him.

Staging

15 parts requiring a minimum of eight actors, of whom two must be female and at least two must be male. Most of the play is set in a church chancel, where Anne’s trial takes place; most churches will need few props. The actors may be dressed quite simply, or elaborate costumes of the time may be prepared.

A word of advice: This play is not for children, owing to its portrayal of violence, intemperate language, sexism, and moral confusion, all four quite typical of the Reformation era — as of our own.

Availability

An examination copy of “The Play of Anne” will be emailed (PDF format) on request.

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61: Un-Compounding a Word

January 12, 2009

We write “maybe” — but try breaking this jammed-together word in two: “may be”; doesn’t the meaning “it may be that …” come through more clearly and vividly? Try “any way” instead of “anyway”; or, more daringly, “all most” instead of “almost”, showing the tension, the indecision, between “all” and “most”.

David Foster Wallace, in his story “Everything is Green” has an interesting approach. The story, about a man and a woman, is told from the man’s POV, in indirect discourse. When the woman speaks, she says “everything”; but when he speaks, it is ‘”every thing”. And “can not”; and “her self”. This difference is one of the ways Wallace shows us how different the two characters are, how fragile their crumbling relationship is.

The credits for Jacques Tourneur’s noir film “Out of the Past” (1947)  include “Screen Play”. Isn’t this clearer, more necessary, than “Screenplay”?

(Sometimes, compounds break up without our help. In the original KJV Bible, for instance, “shalbe” is used for the later “shall be”.)

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59: Writing Short Stories for Pay? (see also Post #38)

January 6, 2009

A web site recently included the following discussion. “A” and “B” are real people, not quoted by name because I don’t have permission to do so. “TK” is myself.

A: I’ve recently completed [a story], currently under consideration with several literary magazines.

B: Are these paying markets you’re sending it to? Because I pay $50. I know. Not much. … And if you are sending it to non-paying markets, you might as well use it as toilet paper. Thus ends the sermon.

A: I believe most of them pay. But here’s a question, and I’m not being didactic or defensive. I’m just curious, …. If one of those reputable, prestigious publications that agents, editors, and writers hold in high regard offered to buy your story for two author copies, would you object to the idea? What if a literary review offered you a similar deal — not necessarily one of the top magazines, just a regular quarterly out of some decent university?

B: Which agents, editors and writers hold these literary reviews in high regard? Can you name one non-paying market that actually is held in high regard by agents and editors? Because the highly regarded literary markets and magazines that I can name offhand (Glimmer Train, Story, The New Yorker, The Atlantic, etc.) DO pay real money. But yes, even in the improbable case that a non-paying literary review would impress anyone but MFA programs looking for professors, I would still object strongly to throwing my work away. The only way I could see giving a story to one of these numbskull markets would be if I was GUARANTEED an agent or a publishing contract because of it. I’ve been making money at writing people’s Law School Statements. And essays for classes. I find that infinitely more respectable than getting published in a non-paying market.

TK: Payment in real money is one of the criteria I use when picking a market to submit to. That said, if I were really interested in making more $$$ per hour, I’d just stop writing short stories and go to work at McDonald’s. Viewed that way, getting paid for writing just doesn’t seem very important.

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43: Sea Change, Dream, and Other Weary Cliches

November 7, 2008

“Sea change” was original with Shakespeare. But now, every newspaper in the country, and most of the talking heads on TV, use/abuse this weary cliche. Let’s leave this one with Shakespeare; may it be interred with his bones.

I had a dream, or I have a dream? King’s rhetoric played with this ambiguity, brilliantly. But now everybody seems to ‘have a dream’. In retrospect, this cheapens King’s brilliance. ‘Dream’, unless used literally, is another cliche that obstructs clear thought and should be banished from our writing.

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38: Writing Short Stories: Paying v Non-Paying Markets

October 5, 2008

The following discussion occurred in the summer of 2008 in an on-line writers’ workshop sponsored by one of America’s leading literary journals. Participants are identified by code, because I don’t have permission to use their names. “A” is me, and “D” is the editor of the journal and leader of the workshop.

A: I just received an impassioned email from a fellow writer who says she will never, ever, submit to a non-paying market, whether or not she could use the money (a pittance, anyway, in most cases). Her point: Non-paying markets are full of inferior material you don’t want to be associated with, don’t give you exposure, can actually give you harmful exposure, are hardly ever read, are never reviewed or considered for awards, etc. — I don’t agree with her. There are certainly inferior markets, but I don’t know what pay/non-pay has to do with it. — Comments?

B: Your friend’s comment is not coming from an informed point of view. My guess is that she’s very new to the game. The truth is, most literary journals don’t pay anything. And it’s very difficult to get into any of them. if you limited yourself to only the paying markets, you might be missing other opportunities. Getting into any mid-tier journal is a coup, in my opinion.

C: There are some good non-paying journals, but if you really get down to it, they all pay in one form or another since they pay in copies. In my experience, Weber pays over $100 for a story, but I don’t really think it’s all that much better than the Briar Cliff Review, which is a beautiful journal and well edited, just has a much smaller budget. If you’re doing ‘literary fiction’ it’s wise not to turn up your nose at non-payers as many of the markets exist on arts council grants, and NPR-like funding to keep them going. The material they publish depends more on the editor than what they pay, in my opinion. A lot of them pay “token amounts.” I’ve gotten $10 before into a Paypal account. That’s no different than getting copies.

D: I agree with [B] and [C]: Your friend is probably starting out, or really uninformed. Wish her good luck with only publishing in paying markets. And that’s my take on that: good luck.

END

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36: Scoring Markets for Fiction Submissions

October 5, 2008

Here’s a very simple market-scoring formula that short-story writers can use:

There are four variables, each scored “A” or “B”. The highest-scoring markets would therefore score AAAA. Other useful variables, such as circulation, speed of yes/no decision, source of funding, institutional affiliation, how long established, frequency of publication, rights retained by authors, etc., are inconvenient to obtain or, in some cases, hard to believe. The four selected variables are easily pulled from Duotrope.com listings and the markets’ web sites.

The variables are not weighted against each other. Each writer may consider some variables more important than others. I find it a real nuisance, for example, to submit by USPS rather than by email attachment.

First variable: Publication medium

A = All-print, or print + electronic (e.g., monthly posting + annual print anthology)

B = Electronic only

Second variable: Submission method

A = Electronic permitted

B = Postal only

Third variable: Paying market or not

A = Pays for at least some fiction in real money.

B = Never pays writers of fiction in real money.

Fourth variable: Name

This variable has one objective, and one subjective, component.

A = The market has a ‘name’ in the business, e.g., has placed stories in Pushcart, BASS, Year’s Best SF, or other worthy reprint anthology.

A = The market has a name you would be pleased to cite in your cover letter. For me, something called “Telegraph Hill Review” would get an A, “Gore on the Floor Monthly”, a B. You may, however, have exactly the opposite valuation.

B = Neither of the above.

Some promising variables were considered but not used:

(a) (Concerning original stories, not reprints:) One-shot anthology v anthology-series v periodical magazine. It’s not clear to what extent acceptance by each medium is more, or less, favorable to a writer. The big disadvantage of the one-shot anthology is that, five years from now, no one will remember it and your writing credit will not carry much weight, compared with being published in a monthly or quarterly that’s still in business. Of course, the magazine might fold, leaving you be in the same situation. On balance, the anthology series looks like the best place to be; but you never know how long the series will last.

(b) Simultaneous submissions. Some publications forbid this practice, some say OK, some are silent. When they are silent, Duotrope marks these as “no simsubs”, while Writers Digest says “simsubs OK”. Based on discussion in a fiction workshop I attended recently, I tend to ignore prohibitions against simsubs. But if market ‘A’ accepts a piece, you should promptly withdraw it from all other markets where you’ve sent it. TIP: Withdrawals are ignored by many markets, or never quite catch up with your submission. Be sure to save a copy of your withdrawal email, just in case there’s a dispute later.

END

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29: Telepathy is like owning a radio in a country where nobody is broadcasting

September 14, 2008

Telepathy is like owning a radio in a country where nobody is broadcasting.

(“Communication from one mind to another other than through the channels of sense.” — M-W)

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25: A Suspense Plot for Fictional Treatment

September 11, 2008

The following plot is based on events in Pennsylvania surrounding the murder of a woman named Dana Gates, as reported in local newspapers in 2001 and 2002. There was, of course, considerable speculation about the case — and there still is.

1. A woman, ‘A’, is found naked and dead in her front yard. Her fiancé, ‘B’ is found inside the house, severely wounded. Police conclude that ‘B’ ’s injuries could not have been self-inflicted.

2. Police suspicion focuses on a man, ‘C’, who had been annoying ‘A’. Evidence of his presence is found inside ‘A’ ’s home. ‘C’ is arrested.

3. Popular suspicion, however, focuses on a notorious ‘Bonnie and Clyde’ couple, who were seen socializing with ‘A’ and ‘B’ shortly before their deaths. (Both are later convicted of a different murder, in another state, and are given long prison terms.)

4. ‘B’ cannot remember what happened the night of ‘A’ ’s death. ‘C’ admits he was inside ‘A’ ’s home, but denies his guilt in her death. He is released for lack of evidence.

Fictional hypothesis: The murderer knows that ‘B’ might regain his memory of the fatal night at any time. Afraid that if he kills ‘B’ he may be caught, and hoping that ‘B’ will never remember what happened, he takes a job near ‘B’ ’s home. He befriends ‘B’ — and observes. Meanwhile, ‘C’, concerned that if any harm comes to ‘B’ he will automatically be the prime suspect, also keeps an eye out on ‘B’, to protect him. There is an attempt on ‘B’ ’s life, which fails. ‘C’, under suspicion, realizes that ‘A’ ‘s killer is nearby, but does not know which of several people it is. He knows he must find out who the killer is, both to prove his own innocence, and knowing that he, himself, is now in the murderer’s sights.

END

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24: A Murder Wiki

August 29, 2008


Two writers, A and B, meet on line. They agree to wiki a story. A writes a rough draft. B modifies it. A adds more. B adds his own story elements and new characters. One of the new elements is a murder; one of the new characters is a murderer. A repeatedly deletes the character, but B keeps writing him back in. Just before the collaboration would have broken down in anger and recrimination, the murderer finds A, at work on his computer. B can now complete the story the way he wanted to.

END

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23: Ideas for Speculative Fiction

August 29, 2008

Charles Babbage, an inventor of the computer, was a fount of ideas, mostly impractical given the state of engineering in his day. His autobiography is a wonderful document. But he also wrote a lengthy treatise titled “Economy of Machines and Manufactures” [downloadable from Gutenberg] filled with ideas writers may find useful.

For example, Babbage envisioned a tin speaking-tube reaching from London to Liverpool, where each side of the conversation would require a wait of seventeen minutes, owing to the speed of sound. And he conceived a mechanical telegraph that was, of course, never built:

“Let us imagine a series of high pillars erected at frequent intervals, perhaps every hundred feet, and as nearly as possible in a straight line between two post towns. An iron or steel wire must be stretched over proper supports, fixed on each of these pillars, and terminating at the end of every three or five miles, as may be found expedient, in a very strong support, by which it may be stretched. At each of these latter points a man ought to reside in a small stationhouse. A narrow cylindrical tin case, to contain the letters, might be suspended by two wheels rolling upon this wire; the cases being so constructed as to enable the wheels to pass unimpeded by the fixed supports of the wire. An endless wire of much smaller size must pass over two drums, one at each end of the station. This wire should be supported on rollers, fixed to the supports of the great wire, and at a short distance below it. There would thus be two branches of the smaller wire always accompanying the larger one; and the attendant at either station, by turning the drum, might cause them to move with great velocity in opposite directions. In order to convey the cylinder which contains the letters, it would only be necessary to attach it by a string, or by a catch, to either of the branches of the endless wire. Thus it would be conveyed speedily to the next station, where it would be removed by the attendant to the commencement of the next wire, and so forwarded. It is unnecessary to enter into the details which this, or any similar plan, would require. The difficulties are obvious; but if: these could be overcome, it would present many advantages besides velocity; for if an attendant resided at each station, the additional expense of having two or three deliveries of letters every day, and even of sending expresses at any moment, would be comparatively trifling; nor is it impossible that the stretched wire might itself be available for a species of telegraphic communication yet more rapid.“

END

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20: A Cop’s View of the World

August 4, 2008

from the Washington Post, 03 August 2008, page A4:

” ‘The use of force sometimes looks violent,’ said Patrick Lynch, president of the [New York City] Patrolmen’s Benevolent Association.”

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17: Cell Phones of the Dead

May 14, 2008

The Washington Post reports that doctors in Burma have been taking cell phones from bodies of drowned men and women, and calling the stored numbers to inform people that their family members or friends are dead.

This grim factoid could be the basis for quite a nice little piece of fiction. — But it seems to me that if there’s enough water to drown you, there’s enough water to ruin your cell phone.
-end-

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15: Extracts from a Novel in Progress: “Skins”

April 21, 2008

extracts from Chapter 2 of Skins, a novel in progress

© 2008, Terence Kuch

[Our story so far: Ron, Cléanthe (Clé), and Roslyn (Ros), escaping from the Caregivers, have entered a large bazaar where they believe they will not be found. Chapter 2 is told by Ros.]

We wandered the narrow angular lanes, making sure not to lose each other in the crowd, browsed the booths and crafts. People grew silent at our approach, stared, muttered in their throaty language. Most of the men were smoking. We approached one of the booths. A woman in a grey scarf showed Cléanthe a small, clever biomachine that walked a few paces on command, nodded its head and turned around when it heard the words “Zafir, haf!” The woman suggested three hundred of the local currency. Clé declined to counter. The small machine looked at Clé, open-mouthed with disappointment. The three strolled away, leaving behind biotronic sounds of weeping.

We looked at more curiosities: music that played itself; perfectly formed food-cubes that set themselves out to eat, then fed on themselves if no one came for the Fresserei; strange, weak, listless inbred striped or splotched mammals. In one dim booth, a few pieces of precisely woven cloth. The shop attendant said proudly “all machine made, all machine made.”

Ron asked her what the cloth was made of, but the only words she seemed to know in our language were “all machine made, all machine made,” and prices: one thousand local, she said. Ron declined. The woman persisted: “three hundred.” A few people gathered, frowned with what seemed to be resentment. Ron walked away. Clé tossed her head and followed him, then I, hurrying along as the people followed. After a while they seemed to lose interest in us, gradually dispersed.

In another booth Clé tried on a necklace, a cheap thing, shades of grey; but it glowed when Clé put it around her neck. “It likes you!” the old woman of the booth remarked, smiling and showing teeth the color of black pearls just yanked from the oyster. The necklace warmed and brightened noticeably, attached itself more firmly to Clé’s neck.

“I don’t think I want this,” said Clé, starting to pull it loose. The necklace gave her a slight but unmistakable shock.

“Now I really don’t want this!” she said, trying harder to take it off. The necklace grew additional ornaments; a few of the older ones changed color.

“It’s trying to please you!” the old woman said.

Ron tried to pull the necklace away from Clé’s neck. “Stop it; you’re tearing my skin!” Clé protested. Ron looked helplessly at the old woman.

“Four thousand for the magic word,” she said.

“Fine,” said Ron. “Grue,” said the woman. Instantly the necklace cooled and loosened. Clé jerked it off her neck, threw it down on the counter.

“But,” the old woman added, “now that you’ve bought it, it will be a good friend. I very strongly suggest,” she winked several times, “you take it with you. But if you don’t it will come after you, slowly you know it has no legs, must slither along like a snake and it’s slow going especially if it gets tangled in the horses’ hooves; but it will find you. It will find you.” She sat back on her stool.

“I think we should take it,” Ron said to Clé.

They paid and left the booth.

#

They strolled the maze of bazaar corridors. One lane contained nothing but engineered animals, nothing left in its natural state, all artificial. The booth attendants looked proudly on their masters’ creations.

“Even you,” one said, after he ascertained that the three of us were from the final century, “you have done this, too. Cattle good for nothing but to be eaten, too clumsy any more to defend themselves from wolves; cats smaller than the gods created, too small to eat the baby; dogs — the dogs cannot pack and hunt any more; all they look for is ‘master;’ seedless grapes that cannot reproduce; boneless chicken. So we have just done the same as you, but more.”

Clé called the man an asshole and the three of us wandered on. Ron whispered to Clé something I didn’t catch, probably sage advice about restricting the use of ‘asshole’ to the purely anatomical, and that only on polite occasions, such as when admiring one’s.

#

sidebar: a fancy

In the Dutiful Republic we smile authentic artificial smiles, hold our hands tight over our minds, say only the right wrong things at the wrong right times. Concentrate, now, on being public beings: Think and speak that which infests us. Which simulation are we, today? Know not what to think,

(

contrasting views of responsible spokespersons

{

who are however subject to the same illusions as those whose views do not contrast

}

are welcome

)

but how. I pelvis to the Leader’s television’d motions, pretend his tongue is moist and tight inside my ear. In the light we are dutiful; but in the night we gather quietly in the home of one or the other, cover windows with dark cloth, power the peering machine, watch the Leader address the people, we rubbing up in rhythm against the cold tube, Tivo it over and over until we time our brutal movements to the cadence of anointed speech.

There is no pounding at the door now because doors are now forbidden.

The mirrors — the mirrors have stopped reflecting us.

#

Past a sign reading ‘Adults Only’ in four and a half languages, we found the sellers of robots ‘for your pleasure.’ “All the protuberances and hollow places,” said one seller, reading his prompt-card. “No need to inflate but if you do comes with multiple pump adapters. Evolution’s triumph! And only sixteen thousand for two, must have two to keep each other amused when you cannot be present to interact with them, you know, or unfortunate events will follow. We learned that hard way and now is government regulation.”

While we were pondering this exciting device (which had been set to ‘demo’ mode, democratically exercising all its artificial organs in conjunction with each other in all possible combinations, with available sound track also), a young man intruded.

“You’re not going to buy that gizmo, are you?” he said.

Ron ventured that he thought not, but it would be up to the women.

“Forget it!” the young one said. “They’re dangerous! You know these robots have their own agenda, they’re just too good at what they do and find us sexually boring. That’s a real downer! Not good enough to fuck a damn machine! So they fuck each other at every opportunity — I caught mine doing that three or four times! And they’re plotting, plotting!”

“Plotting?”

“Against us!”

The hawker intervened. “Pay no attention to him; he is just a jealous young man with a short penis.”

Ignoring him, the young man continued. “And I caught one of them flashing yesterday! In the market! One of my robots! It made some sorry excuse I didn’t believe.”

Ron resolved the matter. “We don’t have sixteen thousand,” he admitted.

The hawker was not to be deterred. “Two hundred a trick. Ten minutes guaranteed. Or three hundred and they call you ‘honey’ several times!”

Ron shook his head, and the three walked out. Behind them they could hear the two men yelling and shouting, and SFX of robots getting horny.

#

Past a booth bearing the sign ‘BioHazard Bitches,’ and the House of Ill Repute of Good Repute, was a peep-show. The proprietor called out “Hey tourists! Peep-show not for chickens ha ha, maybe for chicks! Have you good supply of quarter-coins for the machines?”

Ron thought he might like to see what the place was all about. Clé and I gave him a disgusted look and said we’d stay out in the passage and watch, thank you, while he ‘made a probing inquiry.’

Ron entered the tiny shop. To his left was a series of booths. He picked one at random and entered. On the wall to his right was a menu describing the attractions of each short film in lubricious misspelled detail. On the left was a large-lettered sign “This booth is equipped with a moisture sensing device! Police will automatically alert!” There was, of course, no moisture-sensing device, so the desk-man had to mop up once again.

I noticed Ron tipping the attendant on his way out of the booth. He rejoined us, and we bantered him unmercifully. “Did the movies show ‘coming attractions,’ Ron?” I offered.

Clé chimed in with “how much did you ‘spend’ in there, Ron?” Ron shrugged with a hint of embarrassment.

We left the ‘Adults Only’ section, and re-entered the main part of the bazaar.

[TO BE CONTINUED]

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14: Unreliable Narrators

April 3, 2008

“The trouble is not that there are unreliable narrators but that we have endorsed the fiction of the ‘reliable’ narrator.” –Frank Kermode, p.86 in W.J.T. Mitchell, ed, On Narrative (Univ of Chicago Press, 1981)

TK: Who vouches for the ‘reliable narrator’? Someone just as reliable? Who would that be? How would you know?

END

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13: Tense and Person in Weird Tales magazine

April 3, 2008

Q: We’ve been told to keep to a single tense and a single person (e.g., third person past tense) in our short stories. How useful is this advice? How strictly should it be observed? Consider the following tabulation from the anthology, Weird Tales 21st Century, Volume I. This book contains twelve stories. Based on analysis of first two pages of each story, and scanning of the remainder:

.. Stories predominantly * in present tense, first person: none

.. Stories predominately in present tense, third person: three

.. Stories predominately in past tense, first person: none

.. Stories predominately in past tense, third person: six.

Three stories were told without a predominant combination of person and tense, as follows:

.. First person present AND first person past: one story

.. First person past AND third person past: one story

.. Third person present AND third person past: one story.

* The tabulation above concerns the predominant person and tense used. Most of the stories made some use of both present and past tenses; a few, future tense; and another few, second person with past tense.

What conclusion can we draw? That consistency of person and tense, although useful as a rule of thumb, can and should be violated whenever doing so would benefit the story.

END

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12: Showing and Telling

April 3, 2008

“As there is no hard-and-fast line between telling and showing, either in literary narrative or in psychoanalysis, the competent psychoanalyst deals with telling as a form of showing and with showing as a form of telling. Everything in analysis is both communication and demonstration.” from article by Roy Schafer, p.34 in W.J.T. Mitchell, ed, On Narrative (Univ of Chicago Press, 1981).

TK: All narrative is a telling, as is all dialog. As soon as something shown is reduced to words, it is told.

END

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11: Unfortunate Names

March 11, 2008

People can’t help what they’ve been named, although I know a ‘Barbara’ who became ‘Kim’, and a ‘Jennifer’ who became ‘Emma’. While personal names are cast in legal concrete in the records that follow us from birth to death, the names of the products of our muscles and minds could, at least, avoid certain pitfalls. Two examples:

– In choosing new tubs for a bathroom remodeling project, the design I initially favored was called ‘Slipper’; not a great name for a bathtub.

– Medtner wrote a suite of piano pieces under the name ‘Forgotten Melodies’. This is too close to ‘Forgettable Melodies’ for comfort, even though some of the pieces have very lovely melodies. Too bad the tunes he picked for his piano concertos aren’t as interesting.

END

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10: The Semicolon Is Your Friend!

March 11, 2008

Consider this example: “Max follows, his hands bunch into fists.”

This needs to be fixed. Why and how? The traditional rule is that two independent clauses cannot be linked by a comma. This rule makes sense, because each of these three possible fixes sounds more natural and makes better sense than the example:

Fix number 1: “Max follows, his hands bunching into fists.”

Fix number 2: “Max follows. His hands bunch into fists.”

Fix number 3: “Max follows; his hands bunch into fists.”

Fix 1 adds an extra syllable that doesn’t pull its weight, a syllable that we can do without in a fast-moving narrative. This is a matter of style, not grammar.

The example sentence portrays vivid action. In Fix 2, this action comes to a sharp halt at the period, then resumes. As a matter of style, again, the action needs to continue moving forward at full speed, not stopped and re-started. It is no coincidence that what Americans call “period,” the British call “full stop.”

Fix 3 doesn’t slow the action as much as fix 2 does; it doesn’t add a needless syllable; and it is superior, I believe, in style.

The semicolon is your friend!

END

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9: Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? or, Reflections on Tense in Fiction

March 11, 2008

Suppose I assert, in no particular context, “Baby Jane had blue eyes.” How would a listener respond? Probably “Who cares?” But the curious might ask “Why doesn’t she still have blue eyes? What happened?” And I could answer “Her eye color was altered surgically,” or, “She’s dead now,” or even “I knew her long ago,” the third answer implying that one of the two others may be correct, but I don’t know which.

Bernard Comrie (Cambridge Textbooks in Linguistics: Tense. Cambridge University Press, eighth printing, 2004) makes the point that, at least in English, a past-tense assertion does not imply anything about the state of affairs at the present time. So, according to Comrie, Baby Jane may still be alive, and may still have blue eyes; and I, the speaker, may even know these facts; and I still use “was.”

Logically, of course, Comrie is correct. But I don’t think that most English-speakers hear it that way, at least in America. Consider a different assertion: “I weighed 200 pounds.” In spite of grammar, I believe that most of us would jump to the logically unwarranted conclusion that I now weigh something other than 200. Comrie points out that English has an expression, “used to” to make it clear that things are different in the present. But most listeners or readers will still assume, reading “I weighed 200 pounds”, that my weight has changed, and that the change was worth mentioning.

How does this affect fiction? Simply this: In a work of fiction told in the past tense, a factual assertion is ambiguous as to whether or not it is true in the present (narrator-time) as well as true in the past (story-time). In some contexts this won’t matter: who cares what color Jane’s eyes are now? But in other contexts, it will matter. When it does, having to disambiguate the meaning can lead the writer into awkwardness of expression or rhythm in making clear exactly what he means.

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8: Very Long Sentences in Fiction

March 10, 2008

Should fiction writers always avoid very long sentences? Here’s an example by Thomas Pynchon, from his novel, Against the Day (page 160f):

“She sang mezzo-soprano and had married almost shockingly young, the boys coming along in close order, “the way certain comedians make their entrances in variety acts,” it seemed to her, and about the time Colfax shot his first brace of pheasant, she had abruptly one day packed a scant six trunksful of clothes and with her maid, Vaseline, reinstalled herself in Greenwich Village in a town house floridly faced in terra-cotta imported from far away, designed inside by Elsie de Wolfe, adjoining that of her husband’s younger brother, R. Wilshire Vibe, who for some years had been living in his own snug spherelet of folly and decadence, squandering his share of the family money on ballet girls and the companies they performed for, especially those that could be induced to mount productions of the horrible “musical dramas” he kept composing, fake, or as he preferred, faux, European operettas on American subjects — Roscoe Conkling, Princess of the Badlands, Mischief in Mexico, and so many others.”

That sentence is 165 words long.  Should the writer have broken it into several sentences? The answer is not an automatic “yes” or “no” — judgments as to sentence length (and other questions as well) must be based on a close reading of the piece itself, not on rules of thumb blindly applied.

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7: Tense in Fiction – Some Fictions

March 6, 2008

Typical advice to writers of narrative fiction: Each story should be told in one tense, and one only. I think that this advice, no matter how well intentioned, is a piece of unjustifiable dogma that, if followed blindly, interferes with effective story-telling.

Below, I’m reprinting a pretty typical piece of of narrative, courtesy of The Washington Post. It isn’t fiction, but it definitely is narrative. (There’s a good reason why they’re called news ’stories’.) I counted all the verbs in this story: 63% are present-tense (including present perfect), 36% are past-tense (including past perfect), and 1% are future-tense. Would any creative writing instructor tolerate such a mix of tenses in a story submitted to him? And yet, the story makes sense just as it is. And I contend that telling this story in past-tense only, or in present-tense only, would weaken its ability to communicate, its effectiveness; and also its grace as a piece of writing. Take a look and judge for yourself.

“ABINGDON, England — Jordan Webb can predict the exact time of day his head will start aching. If the 10-year-old lingers outside the Reynolds grocery store past 5 p.m., a small black device latched onto the storefront and operated on a timer will emit a high-pitched sound that makes the boy’s skull feel like it’s popping.

“It sounds like ‘Eeeeeeeek’ and gives me a big headache,” said Jordan, who then covered his ears and made a face reminiscent of Macaulay Culkin’s famous pose in the “Home Alone” movies.

Jordan is referring to the Mosquito, a $975 transmitter designed to disperse young loiterers by making a loud humming noise that most people older than 25, such as his 41-year-old mother, can’t hear. The Mosquito has sparked a new sort of buzz in Britain, this time among political and civil rights groups that say the device is discriminatory and treats young people as second-class citizens.

Others have worried that the Mosquito is the next step in Britain’s Big Brother society. Britons are among the most photographed, filmed, speed-checked and monitored people in the world, thanks to an interlocking system of computerized government devices.

Many Britons are deeply ambivalent about having a closed-circuit television camera in practically every public space; they appreciate the help in solving crime but worry that the government sometimes comes too close. A new high-tech device to shoo away teenagers like so many pesky squirrels strikes many the same way: a good idea with an unattractive flip side.

On a recent sunny afternoon in this historic town near Oxford, Jordan was kicking a soccer ball outside Reynolds with four other boys his age, all wearing red Manchester United jerseys. At 5 p.m., right on schedule, the grocery store’s Mosquito began squealing. Jordan said he felt a painful “scratch” in his ear, and he hustled across the road to get out of the machine’s 50-foot range.

The device has sold about 3,500 units in Britain since its introduction in 2006, according to inventor Howard Stapleton. Outside Britain, about 1,500 more have sold, including about 200 in the United States, by distributor Moving Sound Technology Inc., which says its U.S. clients are mainly schools and convenience stories. Schools use them to ward off kids at night, and the stores use them to discourage young loiterers, the distributor said.

The gadget exploits a peculiarity of aging. At a certain age, hair cells in the inner ear start to deteriorate and so does the ability to hear high pitches.

“I have spoken to young children across the country, and they are angry,” said Al Aynsley-Green, the children’s commissioner for England, who recently joined several civil rights groups to launch a campaign against the devices called Buzz Off. He has persuaded five stores to remove the units and plans to continue his quest for a total ban.

Aynsley-Green’s counterpart in Scotland, Kathleen Marshall, started her campaign five months ago. “This is a war on young people,” she said, noting that some of the slogans for the device — such as “teen tormentor” — did not go far in winning the hearts or minds of the teenagers who have told her through her Web site that they feel demonized.

Some young people have gotten back by using similar technology — cellphone ring tones in those same high frequencies. Kids can hear them, parents and teachers often can’t, thwarting many an effort to limit the phones’ use.

If the Mosquito devices are shelved, it would be a dramatic reversal for a country that makes a lot of fuss over petty crime and antisocial behavior. A few of the British tabloids are running campaigns (“Broken Britain” in the Sun; “Can It! Stop Kids Boozing” in the Mirror) with reams of copy on loutish behavior.

This kind of talk remains popular politically. Since coming into power in 1997, the Labor Party government has dished out more than 10,000 Anti-Social Behavior Orders, a sort of restraining order that can be issued to children as young as 10 for causing “harassment, alarm or distress.”

But even if the mood did shift, it would be unlikely that campaigners could squash the Mosquito quickly. For starters, the units, being inconspicuous and inaudible to many people, are difficult for campaigners to find.

Officials of the Mosquito’s manufacturer, Compound Security Systems, said their clients range from corner stores to cemeteries to construction sites. But they said it’s still difficult to know, because they can be heard only by young people. That’s harder to detect than the more traditional Barry Manilow method of discouraging teenage loiterers by playing opera or other music that they consider unhip.

Several police officers have said during the recent furor that they are fans of the Mosquitoes. Officers in Merseyside, in the northwest of England, patrol the streets with what they call a mosquito vehicle that allows them to break up unruly groups with a high-pitched sound. An official with the force said it reduced disruptive behavior by 60 percent in some areas.

James Lowman, chief executive of the Association of Convenience Stores, which represents 33,000 local shops, said retailers find it a “very useful tool” for combating vandalism and crime.

Rej Parshad, 53, has owned Reynolds, a grocery store nestled in a run-down mini-mall, for 20 years and said he has never seen anything quite as effective for dispersing young people. Two years ago, he affixed the box, which has a picture of a mosquito bug on it, a few feet above the entrance to his store.

He estimated that petty crime has decreased 80 percent. He balked at the idea that he was infringing on human rights. Youngsters loiter outside his shop and pester customers to buy them alcohol and cigarettes, he said.

“They harass customers, and I lose business,” Parshad said. “You can’t keep everybody happy. You have to look after the customer first.”

Natalie Saunders, manager at Martin’s Newsagent, a store three doors down from Reynolds, said she had no idea that a screech of about 85 decibels, the level of city traffic, filled the air outside for five hours every night. “I didn’t even know it was here,” she mused. She is 25.

When asked about the device, Laura Cook, 17, scrunched up her face and called it a “horrible thing” that didn’t work particularly well because many teenagers just put up with it.

One woman who was happy to hear the buzzing: Cook’s mother, Trina, 39. The only ambient noise she could hear on this particular evening was birds chirping nearby. But the other day she went into Reynolds and heard a “high-pitched whistle that cracks.”

“I must be getting younger,” she said with a laugh.”

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4: Performance Art

January 20, 2008

Performance Art — Two sets of instructions — one for a killing, one for something worse. (attached file)

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3: Midnight Central – a Book of Erotic Poetry and Prose

January 16, 2008

In 2002, I published Midnight Central, under the pen-name ‘Karl Krausbart’. It’s available at Amazon, and listed at (although not available through) Barnes and Noble (bn.com). The attachment includes a few of the more restrained poems from this collection.Excerpts from book, Midnight Central, by Karl Krausbart (Terence Kuch)

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1: Strange Fiction – “Thirteen Channels”

January 9, 2008

Here’s an excerpt from a story I wrote, “Thirteen Channels”, published by Slow Trains under the pen name Karl Krausbart. For the full text see www.slowtrains.com/issue2/krausbartissue2.html.

1 Henry and Marie. They are on a bed in neutral territory, a friend’s bed. Henry does not look at his ring. The window is open. They are careful not to make too much noise. Each one hears distant freeway sounds, not the same freeway sounds each hears at home. There is a clock on the dresser, an antique, stopped at an exact second, an exact minute, some indeterminate day.

2 A large party. Is he the one she’s been seeing? Am I looking at Marie too often? Alice imagines she has never heard laughter and hears how grotesque it is, like twenty animals each choking on a bone. Outside, four noble horses are slowly becoming mice.

3 Alice and Marie. They are having a heart-to-heart and telling all. They are lying through their teeth. They are revealing very deep feelings. They are concealing their “little” indiscretions. Neither says she might enjoy intimacy with the other. Both go home and watch the six o’clock news.

4 Henry and Arnold. They are trying something new for both of them, though Arnold came close to doing it once before with another man, a long time ago. Everything is prepared, liquor gulped down, hard rock. Henry wants to continue to the end, but Arnold is getting twitchy about the whole thing. Overhead, the 10:18 to Boston has reached 8000 feet. Engine number two is making a faint new sound, a kind of breathing.

(read the rest at www.slowtrains.com/issue2/krausbartissue2.html)

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