Doin’ The Happy

The Happy is what my sister and I call being positive. She’s says I’m a natural at it.

I do think some people are born with a naturally sunny outlook. I may be one of those. And overall, it’s pretty cool. But like everything in life, a “good” trait always has a down side, just like a “bad” trait always has a good side.

If you are a positive person sometimes you are not allowed to have a bad day. As a writer, I have them. Sometimes, gasp, I have a pouty week after a particularly hard rejection. If I do complain which I rarely do, what I often get back is “oh you’ll make it. You always make it,” as if I never suffer.

Also, some people equate cheerfulness with a less than stellar intellect. As a writer, (and this is true for all arts), many people believe you must wallow in the depths of despair to produce Great Work, as if writing about happy things is less important, or that a positive person can’t write about sad things.

Finally, some folks just don’t like being around happy people. I think the saying misery loves company has more than a grain of truth. Happy can also be seen as fake, as in there’s no way anyone can be that happy.

Even with these downsides I’ll take my Pollyanna outlook. Being happy is, well, wonderful. I get up every day excited about what might happen. Usually. And after coffee. And I do think everything will work out for me.

I had a friend ask what I thought the components of being happy were, in other words, how does it work? How can anyone, even those born to be Eeyore, be more like Pooh?

Here’s what I think. Like many behavioral descriptors, “happy” does not function as an adjective, but as a verb; that’s why I call it doing the happy. It doesn’t just plunk into your lap.

So. Number one. You must consider carefully what does make you happy and do more of that, but just as importantly, jettison stuff that doesn’t. This sounds simple but in practice can be very difficult.

Which is why number two is the putting into practice part. As a writer, I can say writing makes me happy. OK, then I need to do that. But I ALSO must get rid of unwanted activities that may thwart my writing. What else? Getting published at major house would make me happy. We all know the answer to that is much marketing work and perseverance, which may make me happy in the long run, but sucks in the present.

Which brings me to number three: dividing time between the present and the future/past. I believe this is crucial for happiness, and a delicate balancing act. Many spiritual teachings say that only in the now can true happiness occur, and I agree that feeling the sun on your face, snuggling with your partner, or a enjoying a sport are in the moment activities that bring pure joy. But…if you never consider yesterday’s lessons or plan for the future, you will never enjoy accomplishments or feel the thrill of reaching a goal. Not to mention paying the bills, which will certainly impact the here and now.

Number three is the hardest. For those of you who have never heard Jill Taylor speak, the video below is worth your time; if you can’t spare twenty minutes then forward to the last five. She describes finding that magical space between the present, the past, and the future better than anyone I have ever heard.

I’ve never met Jill, but I know her father, Hal. They are both explorers of the mind. Enjoy. And may you all find your happy place, writer or no.

Review: The World’s Finest Mysteries and Crime Stories, edited by E.Gorman & M.H.Greenberg

World's finest? Really? I always chuckle when I read an anthology with this sort of title. Why the world’s finest? Because theses editors thought so, that’s why.

I certainly can’t tell you they are the world’s finest because 1), who am I to judge, and 2), I don’t read a lot of crime fiction, but overall I enjoyed the selections. Crime fiction, as I have stated in a previous post, is hard on the psyche. Someone usually dies and that’s sad. Also, especially in noir crime fiction, the detective or policeman solving the crime isn’t much better than the perpetrator, which can be depressing. They don’t call it noir for nothing.

So it’s taken me awhile to finish. I did have some favorites. Just favorites. Not the world’s finest.

I liked Blood, Snow, And Classic Cars by J.Hansen. The story was well crafted, but the reason I enjoyed this one so much is because of the detective. I admired the detective because he neither glorified nor debased the human condition. The fictional town contained an assortment of genders, orientations, races, professions, etc. While folks around him were making the usual stereotypical judgments, the detective did not…but at the same time, didn’t think anyone was above the crime. At first, the detective seemed ho-hum, just doing my job, miss, sort of guy. But bit by bit I realized there was so much more to this man, and by the end of the tale I loved him.

I also enjoyed Star Thief by B. Dubois, one of the best psychological mysteries I’ve ever read. It could have been written in a chilling way, but instead this author chose to present the killer as pitiable and sad. This is the only story that made me cry. Masterful.

Finally, Beautiful, by J.Deaver, put the most fascinating spin on a stalker story ever. It is very sad, yet powerful. This one totally caught me by surprise at the end, and I love that.

This collection would be great on a snowy day in front of the fire, sipping brandy. Just make sure you’re at a happy point in your life.
:-)

Guesses

This post, as do many, came from a conversation with a family member. I have a creative and intelligent family. A bit quirky, perhaps, but weird and wonderful. Most of these discussions tend to be with my sister Quinn, but the other day I had one with my nephew Ben.

He, in partnership with my sister, has written a fabulous book…and I got to read it first! I loved it. One of my compliments was that I guessed some plot points, but didn’t others. Ben immediately wanted to know where and what I had guessed, as if guessing is a bad thing.

I thought about that for awhile. I decided there are three main reasons for guessing a plot point:

1) The plot is too predictable.
2) The author has “shown a gun” and used it later on.
3) The plot is following an archetype.

Obviously number one is a “bad” reason for guessing a plot point. Fortunately, Ben did not have any of these. However, he did have some twos and threes. These numbers are not "bad", and in fact, are “good” reasons one should guess.

Number two says essentially that if a writer talks about something more than once (you may have red herrings, after all), he or she should actually do something with it. It’s not fair to readers to discuss at length a magical whatsit and then never use it.

Number three is more complex, and relates to my last post about tapping into the universality of human existence. Jung called these archetypical experiences, and later on Joseph Campbell wrote about observing these themes over and over again in all sorts of media, such as the Star Wars movies. For example, the relationship between Luke, Leia, and Han Solo.

Even if Luke and Leia were not brother and sister, Luke would never have ended up with Leia. Luke had a quest to fulfill. And even though Han Solo may have seemed to be the stronger, more adventurous one, it was Luke who had a destiny to fulfill, with little time to devote to romance. So, watching the movie, most people probably guessed Leia would end up with Han. It’s a gut feeling based on a universal archetype.

Ben’s story had a similar triad, and I correctly guessed who the girl would end up with. This is not bad. It gives the reader that “ ahhhhhhhh” feeling at the end.

I remember in one of my first novels I went against archetype. My female protagonist was on a quest. The quest archetype says very clearly that in order to fulfill the quest something must be given up. At the end of the book I knew this, but I couldn’t stand to hurt a character I had grown to love…I wanted her to have it all. My sister called me on it, and I changed it. It had to be.

Archetype guesses feel good. They keep us connected to what is human. But of course, small twists and new ways of telling an old familiar story is what makes an author special. And yes, Ben did that too.

Oh to be an Aunt to such amazing kids.

Taste

Something I've learned over the course of writing and submitting is just how subjective liking something, or even a part of something, is. I know that's rather a "duh" statement, but in the past I never gave it much thought.

Even two people who are very much alike in taste don't always like the same thing, or can see something differently. For example, my sister and I were discussing a book we both enjoyed. I found one sequence jarring and unnecessary. She thought it was a fair outcome. Here are two people who share genetics, points of view, and taste. If we have differences, how is it that a whole flock of unrelated people can unite via the pocketbook to produce a best seller?

I’ve given this much contemplation. The picture I've included with this post is a fractal: a geometric shape that can be split into parts, each of which is a reduced-size copy of the whole. Only recently have we had the mathematics plus high speed computers to understand these beautiful and complex entities.

But they've always been evident in nature...and in artwork. People may not have realized they were creating fractal drawings, but they must have felt the "rightness" of it. And still do. Check out the next paisley shirt you see. Carl Jung said this was because fractal images (he called them mandalas) are universal, in other words, they are part of the human collective unconscious.

Writers, while not creating with drawn images, paint with words. I believe a best seller, whether considered high literary art or trashy genre fiction (kidding…that’s what I write), has to tap into something universal. At the same time it must be uniquely told. So I got to thinking about how my five top favorite young adult characters could be represented in one sentence that says “universal,” yet “here’s how I’m unique.”

Harry Potter

Young boy struggles with being different at school and at home…as a wizard.

Dorothy (Wizard of Oz)

Young girl wants to be different and thinks she has to leave home to find it…in a magical world.

Hardy Boys

Two young men want to prove themselves in an adult world…as teenage detectives.

Bella (Twilight)

Young girl struggles with insecurity and her own mortality…while she chooses between an immortal and a mortal lover.

Frodo (the book isn’t YA, but he is)

Young hobbit struggles with a responsibility he isn’t responsible for…in an alternate universe.

I found that exercise very interesting, and then proceeded to boil down my own books. I was happy to find I could do it.

In the end, it doesn’t matter if a book has parts or pieces that you many not like or wish wasn’t there. Details make for excellent discussions, but if a story reaches into what Jung would call the collective unconscious people will respond regardless. I’m sure you’ve heard someone say “I know I shouldn’t like this book but I couldn’t stop myself from reading it.”

That statement means the author has touched the core of humanity. Readers, even if they or critics think it’s “bad”, won’t be able to resist. It’s something very primal…unless it’s the same old thing.

In some ways, every story already has been told. It’s our job as writers to craft universal truths in a way no one else has done before.

Whew.

PS. Those one sentence blurbs would be great starts for query letters. Hummmmm…

Cats

A reader asked to see more pictures of my cat, Spriggan. I hesitate to write too much about my pet; living with a cat is such a writer’s stereotype, and, do you really want me to go on and on about her?

But like any proud parent, since you asked…here she is. If it looks like she’s about ready to spring, well, three’s a reason her nickname is psycho kitty.

I also decided to post my three favorite feline poems. Just so it’s not all about Spriggan.

I love this poem because it’s so magical and peaceful.

Fog
By Carl Sandburg

The fog comes
on little cat feet.

It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.

The next poem I love because the language is like music. Say it out loud. See?

Pinkle Purr
By A. A. Milne

Tattoo was the mother of Pinkle Purr,
A little black nothing of feet and fur;
And by and by, when his eyes came through,
He saw his mother, the big Tattoo.
And all that he learned he learned from her,
"I'll ask my mother," says Pinkle Purr.

Tattoo was the mother of Pinkle Purr,
A ridiculous kitten with silky fur.
And little black Pinkle grew and grew
Till he got as big as the big Tattoo.
And all he did he did with her.
"Two friends together," says Pinkle Purr.

Tattoo was the mother of Pinkle Purr,
An adventurous cat in a coat of fur.
And whenever he thought of a thing to do,
He didn't much bother about Tattoo.
For he knows it's nothing to do with her,
So "See you later," says Pinkle Purr.

Tattoo was the mother of Pinkle Purr,
An enormous leopard with coal-black fur.
A little brown kitten that's nearly new
Is now playing games with its big Tattoo...
And Pink looks lazily down at her:
"Dear little Tat," says Pinkle Purr.

The last one I love because it captures the essence of cat behavior.

The Rum Tum Tugger
by T. S. Elliot

The Rum Tum Tugger is a Curious Cat:
If you offer him pheasant he would rather have grouse.
If you put him in a house he would much prefer a flat,
If you put him in a flat then he'd rather have a house.
If you set him on a mouse then he only wants a rat,
If you set him on a rat then he'd rather chase a mouse.
Yes the Rum Tum Tugger is a Curious Cat--
And there isn't any call for me to shout it:
For he will do
As he do do
And there's no doing anything about it!
The Rum Tum Tugger is a terrible bore:
When you let him in, then he wants to be out;
He's always on the wrong side of every door,
And as soon as he's at home, then he'd like to get about.
He likes to lie in the bureau drawer,
But he makes such a fuss if he can't get out.
Yes the Rum Tum Tugger is a Curious Cat--
And there isn't any use for you to doubt it:
For he will do
As he do do
And there's no doing anything about it!
The Rum Tum Tugger is a curious beast:
His disobliging ways are a matter of habit.
If you offer him fish then he always wants a feast;
When there isn't any fish then he won't eat rabbit.
If you offer him cream then he sniffs and sneers,
For he only likes what he finds for himself;
So you'll catch him in it right up to the ears,
If you put it away on the larder shelf.
The Rum Tum Tugger is artful and knowing,
The Rum Tum Tugger doesn't care for a cuddle;
But he'll leap on your lap in the middle of your sewing,
For there's nothing he enjoys like a horrible muddle.
Yes the Rum Tum Tugger is a Curious Cat--
And there isn't any need for me to spout it:
For he will do
As he do do
And there's no doing anything about it!

In The Caves…

The book I’m working on, Chimera, is set in Kuala Lumpur and the surrounding jungles. My protagonist just left the Batu Caves, a series of Hindu shrines set into a labyrinth of natural caves.

The internet has been a wonderful research tool, and I’ve discovered You Tube is a great place to actually see sites. Below is a video of The Caves. I can feel its mystic presence just watching and would love to visit.

Although I don’t know how spiritual I’d feel after climbing 272 stairs. :-)

Agent Update

I've been trying to get an agent for about three months or so. I've had a lot of nos, some that didn't reply back, a few nice rejections, and one agent who read my entire manuscript before, sigh, rejecting it. Then I got a couple more rejections with feedback. This is good.

What was a bit worrisome in my case was that two agents said the same thing: loved your voice, didn't like the story premise. Well, they don't actually say "don't like," they say "I can't get as excited about the premise as I need to be."

So anyway, I was thinking so I can write. Big deal. My story sucks. Then today I got another rejection from an agent I really really wanted. He had feedback. Can you guess? Wait for it...

Loved the premise, "less excited about your voice." HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

That was a maniacal laugh. Seriously, that made me feel better. Once again, "good" or sellable is in the eye of the beholder.

Book Review

I decided to read Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert for a couple of reasons. One, I needed a break from the murder mystery anthology I’m reading. Murder stories always have a …murder. The victim usually has people who mourn him or her, and that’s sad. Two, every now and then I pick something that’s way outside my normal fantasy sci-fi fare. Three, the idea of a woman traveling alone through parts of Asia I felt might help me with my own book about a woman traveling in Asia.

I enjoyed this book. I did learn some things about the countries Gilbert traveled to, although not as much as I would have liked. This was more of an internal journey.

And what a journey it was. The author is, without a doubt, a fabulous writer. Her rich descriptions plunked me down in Bali, in Rome, in India. Even something as mundane as eating pasta made my mouth water. That’s talent. My only complaint about her lush language is that she uses metaphors to distraction, at least, they often distracted me.

This book reminded me of why I don’t usually read biographic stories; they are too personal. The tale she told was fascinating, don’t get me wrong. I read it in one sitting. It was that compelling. But I was left with a slightly ick feeling of knowing, perhaps, a bit more than I wanted to know about Ms. Gilbert.

This is me and my taste. The book was a best seller, after all. But I guess I’m just a fiction girl at heart and always will be.

Back to murder and mayhem. Fictional, please. :-)