2012 Baltimore Book Festival
This past Saturday I attended the Baltimore Book Festival with friend and fellow writer, J. Lea Lopez. I want to take some time to talk about the experience, as it was a first for me.
I had looked at the website a few times after she had invited me, and I wasn’t sure if I would get anything out of the experience. I feared it would be lots of would-be authors shoving business cards and free samples of their product in everyone’s faces while publishing professionals sneered their noses over top of the rif-raff like myself. To tell you the truth, there was some of that, and it did annoy me as much as I expected it would.
Mostly, however, the festival was an array of tents encircling Baltimore’s Washington Monument. (I wouldn’t be a Marylander if I didn’t point out that this was the first monument to George Washington, long before the white pointy thing on the other end of the Beltway showed up.)
The tents were marked according to the type of guests and panels that would be present discussing aspects of the book world appropriate to them. There was the Sci-Fi/Fantasy Tent, the Maryland Romance Writers Tent, and so on. As several interesting talks/panels were happening simultaneously, one had to choose which was most appealing at any given moment. The first I selected, and for which Jen joined me was a talk on the Steampunk genre. I think I may have found this first stop the most interesting.
The panel consisted of five people. An editor, two Steampunk authors, one aspiring to be so, and another gentleman who had not written a work of fiction in the genre, but was helping a group of people build a steampunk world for future use. (I admit I wasn’t entire sure what exactly he was doing this for. But he had interesting things to say anyway.)
Steampunk, for those of you who don’t know, is fiction built around the idea that steam became the primary source of energy and locomotion in our society, starting in an around the Victorian era. That era continued to inspire clothes, food, music, architecture into the future. An alternate timeline sort of fantasy of sci-fi.
I’ve not read any of it myself, but I knew what it was. That’s why I went to the panel. I want to explore its appeal, as up until that point I figured it was mostly based on people thinking, “these clothes and gadgets are cool looking.”
I didn’t talk to authors directly. Only if I feel I have a clever question will I take up time of such people. I did however appreciate the enthusiasm for this somewhat offbeat genre. Much of what I expected its successful authors to be was true of this group. An appreciation for the stylized off-kilter expressed with great enthusiasm. An enthusiasm that was in fact based more of people thinking that “stuff” looked cool. (Though that aspect was certainly a part of it.)
Nearly all of them view steampunk (and its cousins clockpunk and gas light) as an answer to the rigidity of most science fiction, and even that of some fantasy. A true punk sensibility within the established literary coda, steampunk allows authors to explore characters and plots that either fantasy and especially sci-fi alone would perhaps frown upon. I liked that rebellious angle. It gave the movement substance beyond the shiny objects and long overcoats you see people wearing at steampunk events. (Yes, I saw more than a few in Baltimore.)
I’m sure steampunk has its own conventions and expectations. Yet I found it refreshing to see professional authors and editors eschew some of the hard line presented by more conventional science fiction. A hard line with which I myself have had some difficulty.
That, and the fact that the authors were in many cases just as casual if not goofy as I am on the average day. Some of that may be the nature of the genre. But more of that may be my first true, direct exposure to successful authors in the flesh. (One reason I decided I would attend to event after all. To at least be around literary people even if I was in no mood to engage them directly.)
I came out of the steampunk presentation with an enhanced understanding both of the genre and its creators and fans. Already I have started working out a plan to read some steampunk for the first time, and perhaps compose some of my own in the future.
Later I went with Jen to one of the events to which she most looked forward. It was the No Holds Barred event, wherein three professional agents would give a brief opinion on first pages of novels brought in by writers. I think this event needed a bit more planning, honestly. I think the agents meant well, but everything had to move at lightening speed in order to get to all of the submissions that had been brought in.
In fact, I think the organizers might have foolishly been caught off guard by how many people would submit. Naturally if you have a free agent critique of even one page of a novel, you will draw writers like a fly to honey, and that is exactly what happened. The moderator had to read the excerpt out loud to the group quickly, (too quickly for much emoting), and give the agents a moment to read the rest, there on the spot. Then the comments about how it worked as a hook would come.
Again, not ideal for anyone involved. Jen submitted her pages, about which they had several concerns. Having read part of her novel, I’m not sure I agreed with much of what was said, to be frank, but that is hardly my affair. Not long after that, when it became clear that the whole event would only be reading a page and saying one of three pat responses, Jen and I opted to leave. I had hoped it would be more of a talk. A Q&A at least. I think perhaps they were not prepared for the turnout.
Other tents were filled with both established and upcoming authors, none of whom I admit, I had heard of, so I didn’t go there. There was a strong theatre presence, with play readings and free previews. I was tempted to go to some of these, but I was only there for the day, and some of the events were entire plays that would have taken up a good portion of my time. So I opted out.
There were walking tours of literary sites which I would have taken. Jen thought about it, but decided 90 minutes was kind of long. And it probably was. I’d have gone if she had, but I didn’t feel like going it alone.
I did go it alone for the final two hours of the event, as Jen opted to attend two events centered on romance and erotica writing. I’d have been the only man in attendance so I opted out of those, and went off on my own. During that time, I listened to some poetry readings. (Though all of them were depressing I have to say.) I tooled around all of the used book tents, though I didn’t buy anything. Then I wandered into the Peabody Center Library, where a harpist was giving a free concert. I enjoyed that, and was there about 40 minutes until the end of the presentation.
When Jen and I met up again, she was pleased with the panels she had attended, so all was well. By that point the tents were closing up, and we headed off for dinner, and after a break, a late night drive to drop me off at my car in Frederick. (If you want to hear about the events she attended the following day, since she spent the night, she will be blogging on it very soon herself. I look forward to that. Hope you are too.)
It seemed like the kind of place that movies and yes, books, have the quiet, aloof type like me run into the notebook-carrying, book-devouring glasses-wearing pixie that is way smarter than him, and walks around with him to buy an overpriced vendor hot-dog, at which point they have fallen in love.
That didn’t happen to me.
What did happen was a greater appreciation for such events, and an understanding that even I can get something out of them. That I need not be selling myself constantly to have a respectable presence in such places. (I brought business cards just in case, but gave out none.) My aloofness wasn’t as crippling here as it might have been at other events. (Lack of love at first site story notwithstanding.) I already thought about questions I would ask the panels, if I had had more time, or if I had come back the following day. There is next year, and there are events in other cities. I imagine that so long as I don’t have to drive, (Thanks, Jen), I will be found at such events again in the future.
The things that annoy me about the literary world still annoy me. It can be somewhat elitist. The agent model is one I don’t entirely trust yet. Marketing can be obnoxious. I am probably too quiet to get the most out of some of those tents at times. Still now that I have done it, and thus for the first time feel I have mingled directly with fellow writers, (along with my Frederick Writers Salon meetings), I feel a little less alone in this endeavor. That isn’t to say I suddenly feel on fire to change everything, nor does it mean I won’t have some of my issues anymore. It does however mean that just maybe I can see more of the people aspect behind the process.
I even tweeted one of the steampunk authors when I got home. (Tiffany Trent) The interesting thing…she tweeted back.
That, I suppose, is at least the tiniest beginning of something for me.
Don’t Struggle With Every Word.
I take pride in my writing. Being a writer, I have to. I’m not about to have my name on lazy trash. I grant you, any given piece of writing may not be a masterpiece from within my opus, but not everything I write is intended to be. Still, I believe my quality control is probably above the mean for people who write as much as I do.
Yet rare is the time I slave over every word. Any given paragraph, or even sentence may inspire me to such intensity, but I also accept that at times that writing, (even fiction) need only be serviceable. After all, doesn’t most writing fail its mission if most people are unable to decipher what they are reading?
I bring this up because on social media I often read about authors and writers that torture themselves over every word in every sentence to make sure it is just right. That is to say they literally mention that every word is a struggle into which they plunge themselves.
Articles that will tell you the only way to break into writing success and be recognized as a cut above other wordsmiths is to subject one’s self to such an exhausting slog through the dictionary in our minds and on our hard drives. The geniuses of literature, we are told, are those who denied themselves sleep, food, water, oxygen and whatever else it took until the best possible collection of words in their language came to them. After hours or even days of work they put these sentences down into their manuscript.
Then they move on to sentence number two…
Like any writer who cares, I have at some point slaved over any given section of something I am working on. I write and rewrite like anyone else does. Yet I have come to resent this notion that I need to drain myself via a mental odyssey for every word. Something in fact tells me that if someone is doing that, they are doing something wrong. If it takes that much effort to string together the thought you want to convey, a step or two somewhere has been missed. Or you are aiming for the wrong target.
Or, you’re pretentious.
That may sound harsh, and like all subjective judgments it isn’t applicable to every one who writes in this way. But for my money the end product in most cases is going to sound like you want to impress professors instead of sending a message or telling a story.
All of that mental energy being burned on every sentence? Every word? That may make one sound like they are more dedicated than other writers, but in fact it’s just burning energy you could better apply elsewhere. Even Hemingway wrote sentences that amounted to no more than an old man urinating off the side of a boat.
Now I am sure there was a reason Hemingway included that sentence, but do we honestly believe he spent the lion’s share of his time on sentences like that one? Or do we think he applied his brilliance to specific, important parts of The Old Man and the Sea and accepted that between the gold, simple utilitarian sentences would do the job?
I can’t know, of course. I never met the man. My instinct however tells me that although he, and the other “greats” did give every sentence due consideration, and asked themselves if it sounded right, I doubt they searched the depths of their mind for each and every one. How many different words for “urinated” are there anyway?
You may be brilliant, I can’t say for sure. But even if you are, don’t lose yourself in your own brilliance. The point of writing isn’t to be brilliant. It is to tell a story that moves people. You are not a lesser person if someone needs a degree in order to know what your story is about, but consider how many more people you might be serving if you put story first and brilliance second.
Don’t kill yourself over every word. Look at the big picture. The littler pictures will fall in place.
Chanting, Not Just Calling Bullshit
If you happened to be watching last night’s edition of Sunday Night Football you witnessed several things that bordered on incredible. So many story lines were playing out, they could fill a small library. Unlike Bob Costas I don’t feel that every single sporting event that takes place has some profound impact on the human race. Yet once in a while a game comes along that makes you think in all kinds of ways about stuff outside of the game. I will talk about just one of the many examples last night’s game provided to do so.
The Baltimore Ravens won the game against the New England Patriots in a nail biting manner that most football fans only dream about. And as exciting and satisfying as that was for me, (a Ravens fan), it was only part of the story of last night’s straight up insanity. Stay with me. You won’t have to know football to get something out of this.
Right now, the NFL officials, (The referees and line judges and such) are on strike. So for all of this year so far, games have been officiated by college level football officials. Not the ones that you see in charge of say Notre Dame vs. Navy. Those are Division I officials, and they are busy, well, officiating Division I games every Saturday. So the NFL is using officials who are used to calling Division II college football. (Don’t ask me who is in charge of Division II football in their absence. I have no idea.)
I’m not an expert on these matters, but this is roughly analogous to having the very best community college glee club in your state fill in for the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. The former may be highly talented dedicated individuals, and wonderful at what they do. But throw them one day into the MTC, and they are, quite understandably, out of their league. And people would certainly notice. There are levels to this sort of thing, after all. Division II college football officials are that hard working glee club on its way to Salt Lake City.
Mistakes have abounded as these guys try to keep track of games. Just look up “replacement refs” and you are bound to get the picture. These guys, in short, are in over their heads.
Last night, the glee club was once again off key. Way off key. And like someone singing poorly in the perfect acoustics of the Mormon Tabernacle, the mistakes were magnified tenfold in front of an evening game televised coast to coast.
I won’t get into the specifics of the penalties, as this isn’t a football blog. But suffice to say that even the announcers of the game had concluded that not one, but two consecutive late game penalties against Baltimore were, in the words of Al Michaels, “pretty ridiculous”. The second of them is quite uncommon in the first place, and was misapplied to the situation. That is the one that raised the roof in Charm City.
In a move unrivaled by even the angriest NFL fans in the angriest, nastiest cities in the league, (New York, Philadelphia, Pittsburgh), the crowd of 71,000 at M&T Bank Stadium somehow managed, in perfect sync, to chant, “bullshit!” for close to a minute. Clear as a bell and loud as hell. Though I’m not sure how it happened, it got onto the television feed for the entire country to hear. Check it out.
Little did the crowd, or anyone at that moment know that the Ravens would pull it out in the end to win by one point on a field goal. That doesn’t negate the fact that the two calls I mentioned were in fact bullshit, and the fact that the crowd chanted “bullshit” in such a well orchestrated manner. That is actually what I’m addressing here today.
To start with, 71,000 people chanting anything in perfect unison is eye opening, let alone when they are chanting something like “bullshit”. Far more so than the same group of people just hollering their own individual messages at one time. I think we as people are wired to respond to the rhythmic chanting of anything.
However it happened, this perfectly timed chant wasn’t censored by the network. Everyone watching at home heard it with absolute clarity, and social media was instantly abuzz over it. Love or hate Baltimore, the country was all about the chant. The commentators even had to mention it, so intrusive into the broadcast was it.
It didn’t change anything on the field, of course. The calls were not reversed, and had the Ravens lost, these two blown calls would have had more than a little to do with it.
I imagine the crowd knew this. They knew that chanting “bullshit” was not going to make things any better. Yet they did it anyway. So egregious was the calling by these unqualified officials that they were determined to make some kind of scene about it. It may have been all the more successful because they knew it would accomplish nothing. (Other than to maybe, just maybe get mentioned on TV, since certainly everyone there knew it was a national televised game. Though I am thinking it worked far better than they could have imagined.) Perhaps it worked because they knew it would amount of little more than a demonstration. It has certainly gotten people talking around the league…
And who knows? Perhaps the dynamic in the stadium brought about by the chant fired up the Ravens in some undefinable way, and allowed them to make the final winning drive.
The point is sometimes people who have no business being in authority make decisions that affect us in unfair, absurd ways. It costs us big time once in a while. Sometimes we can do something about it. Often we cannot. And while many would say being quiet and returning to your desk or home or car may be best, I say sometimes one has to not just call bullshit on something, but chant it at the top of one’s lungs to whoever is out there. Even if they are not listening, chant it loud enough and someone will hear you. And being heard may just be the most important thing at such times.
Was it the most wholesome way to do it? No. Did it subject children to the word “bullshit”? Yes. They’ll live. That is life. Nobody stormed the field. Violence didn’t break out. The chanted phrase could certainly have been a lot more vulgar. But none of these things happened. In a decision that was a bit rebellious, a bit off color, fruitless on the day, and made out of anger, Baltimore fans decided, all at once, that they had had enough of the on going officiating saga and chanted in one voice, “bullshit”.
Adding even more salt to these meal? It isn’t the way Baltimore fans usually behave. That also says something about the spontaneous demonstration.
We can’t stay pissed forever, folks. I realize that. In football and in life we have to at some point conclude that the play is over and go on to the next one. Yet I think something can and does come about when we chant “bullshit” once in a while. Especially if others of similar mind join in with us. It may not change the circumstances but it may just call attention to the problem. It may just get others on our side. It may just get those in authority talking long enough to change something. If not for you, than for the next poor schlub that finds himself in your position.
It may not be your style to chant bullshit at life. So don’t do it all the time. But every once in a while get out of your seat, evaluate what has gone wrong, and start chanting “bullshit” and see what happens. Something may just change for the better, even if it is just how you feel on the day. You may not have 71,000 other people join in with you of course. But then again, you might.
Watch Closer?
A friend of mine, who is also both a writer and an actor, wrote this piece about people-watching over on her blog the other day. In it she describes the people she saw at a local coffee shop one afternoon. She mentioned how useful such a practice can be for both the writer and the actor.
I have always agreed with this. Yet as you can see from the comment I left on the post, I am not always diligent in doing so.
You may be wondering how a person can “slack off” in their people watching. It’s very simple; I can become so put off by humanity that I have a tendency to enter a symbolic isolation chamber in my mind. Part of this is because, as you all know, I am an introvert. Introverts like to visit the inner world of our own thoughts more often than others. Normal.
Yet the other reason for this practice may not be as useful, or even as healthy.
In a sense, I can anesthetize myself to others. I can be aware that people are sitting around me, walking by me, and even talking. I can’t shut them out to the point that I am unaware of their presence. (Though I certainly wish I had that power at times.) Yet at such times they are more like flies to me, and I am not sure that is doing me any favors.
Take Saturday afternoon. I was visiting my county’s fair. It was daytime so it wasn’t mad-crowded yet, but it was well attended. I don’t have social anxiety so I didn’t feel in danger and I didn’t feel judged. I did however feel, as I often do in such situations, that little good could come of me being particularly observant of the humanity around me. I walked through the crowds, responding if I had to, speaking to give my order at the lunch stand, but otherwise concentrating on my own thoughts, or on talking to the small detachment of family members that were with me.
Not only was I not engaging the strangers, (something I virtually never do) I almost wasn’t acknowledging them.
Is the inner world of my mind so fascinating? Again, I only wish that were true. Half the thoughts were in fact anxious ones, I dare say. Such is how I am lately. But it is as though sometimes my own thoughts, even the mundane or the troublesome are more comfortable than the actions of the world around me. Part of it, as I said, is introversion, which is fine. But I begin to wonder if part of it is a result of having given up on most of what is “out there.”
Not that I don’t ever people watch or read stories about people. I do. But can a writer truly succeed in his mission to relate to readers when so often he retreats inward when surrounded by them? Am I doing myself a disservice by doing so as often as I do? At times I suspect that I am.
For one doesn’t have to talk to people in order to gain story ideas or come to a greater understanding of how people behave and think. That, indeed, defeats the purpose of people-watching. Yet if a writer proceeds as though regular people are usually a nuisance with which to be dealt, as opposed to a source of imagination to be mined, is his work lessened? Surely even Salinger in all of his reclusive solitude at least observed the human condition once in a while, even if he didn’t take part in it much.
I hope none of you believes I stay locked in a room, avoiding the sunshine and other people. I’m not a hermit, I assure you. Yet for someone with not one but two artistic pursuits that involve creating and relating to people, do I not look at people enough? Or have I a reasonable equivalent to people-watching when I contemplate them through the stories of others, and the news of the world around me? I suppose only time, and the quality of my fiction will tell.
Appreciation through Basics
Football started last week. I’m happy to say that both the Ravens and my fantasy football team were victorious in week one. Sadly, I couldn’t see the awesome season opener for the Ravens on Monday night because I was attending a writers meeting. (One has to sacrifice for one’s art sometimes.)
Mom was watching though. Well, at least the first half of the game. (She goes to bed kind of early, given her work schedule.) These days, she doesn’t like to miss a Ravens game, and sometimes, if I am in the living room, she will watch other games that are on as well. (Especially if one of my fantasy players are involved.)
This has only been true for a few years, though. There was a time when she didn’t follow football at all. “Too many rules,” she once told me. Not like baseball which she found easier to follow. (As do many people, let’s face it.)
That was fine by me. I had no need for mom to enjoy football. Still, one day I decided to explain the basic concept of football to her. Not so she would become a fan, but so she would perhaps get an idea of what people were talking about when the subject came up, or at least be able to follow the gist of what was happening if a game was on TV somewhere. Using the visual aid of a Ravens game that was on TV, my lesson went something like this:
When the Ravens first get possession of the ball, they have four chances to move that ball ten yards from the location they took possession. They can either throw it to someone, or they can let someone run with it. Either way, the other team tries to stop them from getting those ten yards. If the Ravens make it, they get a whole new four chances to go a whole new ten yards. We call that a First Down, and teams want a lot of those.
If the Ravens fail after four chances the other team takes the ball where it sits. Nobody ever wants that. So after just three of their four chances, most teams decide to do one of two things if they think it will be too hard to get the First Down:
1) They can punt the ball to the other team WAY down field so that team has further to go to score.
2) If they are close enough they can try to kick a field goal for three points.
But it’s better to get the ball into the endzone for a touchdown, because that is six points. So most teams prefer a touchdown, which is why they want to make a lot of First Downs…so they can get close to the endzone.
After a team scores in either fashion, they kick the ball off to the other team, and it all starts over again. Referees can move the ball around based on penalties they give out for illegal plays. They usually explain what the penalty is when it happens, and how many yards they are moving the ball. Team with the most points when the clock runs down wins.
“I can follow that much,” she said. She didn’t know it could be that straight forward.
In subsequent games to which she paid more attention, she’d ask questions about certain situations that I would explain as best I could, and she would build on the basic information I had already given her to understand such things as sacks, safeties, off sides, and other aspects of the game that I didn’t get into when I first explained its mechanics. And now she can enjoy a Ravens game on her own if she chooses so to do. (And often she does for at least a half, and sometimes more.)
Now, contrast my approach with how I see many zealous football fans try to explain what is happening to a newcomer.
Okay, the offense is now on third down. See they’re on third down? Third down and 8. We call that third and long sometimes. Okay, if they are on third and long, they like to use two tight ends to take the pressure off of the wide receiver…that guy on the far right. See the defense, they know the offense has two tight ends, so they are setting up in the nickel formation. You almost always use a nickel formation in four kinds of situations…
To begin with, by the time you get through all of that, the play is going to be over and you’ve lost your visual aid. Secondly, 99% of newcomers will glaze over at such an explanation, because there is too much new information at one time. If they have to keep all of that straight, they will lose interest.
The trouble here? When people do this, they are explaining how to play football. What I did with mom was explain how to watch football. How to enjoy it. I explained to her what is happening on a football field that people are yelling about 90% of the time.
It was a judgement call to a degree, of course. Some people would have included certain things I left out. Yet by not including scenario specific details in my initial lesson, and talking only about the prime motivation of the teams, (offense tries to move the ball forward while defense tries to stop them) I gave mom something she could relate to right away. And as a result, she has since built on that knowledge, and has come to enjoy watching games.
I think this is a good way to introduce people to new things that have multiple layers, not just sports. When we do so, I think we need to remember a few things that I remembered as I explained football to mom.
1) Keep your passion in check a bit.
You love this activity, and you want other people to perhaps love it, or see why you love it. Fine. But resist the temptation to throw it all at them at once. Pick the easiest, most obvious aspects of what you do, and let them chew on those for a while. If they follow that then…
2) Wait for questions.
People remember information they receive as the result of a question far more than information that is just given to them. If an aspect of your activity doesn’t have to come up until someone asks, wait.
3) Let them figure out nuance.
People won’t know the fine details of what makes a beautiful play as opposed to a serviceable play in football right off. So just teach them what the play is supposed to do, and let them find out what makes it special. They often will.
4) Be content with whatever level of interest they develop.
In most cases, people are just curious. They may never develop into a superfan, or any kind of fan at all for that matter. Be all right with that. If you explain it and they get it, great. Consider that a victory. If they begin to enjoy some of it, it’s just gravy. But by no means double down on the information if they don’t start to love it. Nothing will drive people away faster than someone who insists that they begin to love something.
Be happy if after years of going shopping while you watch the game your spouse will now sit and watch one half a football game with you. That could be all the interest they will ever have, but it is more than they used to have. All because you remembered to be simple, patient, wait for questions, and remain content with whatever the results.
Ty Unglebower 