Maudlin Mom

My son turns eighteen in a couple of days and is leaning hungrily toward independence. Since he’d be absolutely mortified if I gave him the following quote personally, I’m going to place it here, along with a link, in a public place he’ll never see.  The following is from an old folk tune called Sleep Song. One link at the end is a song from Kitaro, that was birth music when he was born. As laid back as this kid is, we should have started the bagpipes (Tannahill Weavers) sooner in the birth process, but if you have time, Oasis is a beautiful piece of music. The second link is the Sleep Song. As always, lyrics lose in translation without the music to transport the words, but you get the idea.

‘May you sail fair to the far fields of fortune, with diamonds and pearls at your head and your feet, and may you find kindness in all that you meet. May there always be angels to watch over you, and may you need never to banish misfortune. May you find kindness in all that you meet, to guide you each step of the way, to guard you and keep you safe from all harm. May you bring love and may you bring happiness, and be loved in return to the end of your days.’

Thanks friends, for giving me a moment to be soppy and sappy.

Kitaro: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WlpX1AfkOag

Sleep Song: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TjUX3CeRUZI

Way out of my reach. Telephoto and sign of times to come.

Way out of my reach. Telephoto and sign of times to come.

 

Art or Device?

I just finished The Round House, by Louise Erdritch. The writing soared, the characters tugged me into their world, and the ending left me hanging and wanting so much more. This is the first time I’ve read anything by Ms. Erdritch, and it’s safe to say it won’t be the last book by her that I devour. Depending on dialog, that is.

The author’s lack of quotation marks around dialog stymied me. My eyes are so trained to catch those tiny mouse-turd cues, that I stumbled over their absence. I use ‘mouse-turds’ on purpose because once there were some in a book I read, and I thought they were quotation marks in a weird spot.

I found myself reading along, captured by beautiful writing, only to suddenly realize I was reading dialog. Then I’d have to back up to pick up where people started talking, and work my way back to where I was interrupted and pulled out of the story.

If the story had been less powerful, I would have stopped reading simply because I dislike being taken out of the story world. The book was very bumpy to read because of that.

I wondered why the author chose to not use quotation marks. A dislike of the shift key? Some sort of artistic point I’m too dense to pick up? A signal that I was reading literature rather than just a very good story? Those questions also pulled me away as a reader. Which made me then wonder, when is something artistic, and when is it simply a device to make someone stand out, or to prove you can break a rule and get away with it?

A while back I talked about reading books by Elly Griffiths, who writes in present tense, and how skilfully she handles that. So well, in fact, that her ‘device’ never once pulled me out of the stories. Present tense isn’t a style of writing one sees often, and it could easily have failed. I’m glad it didn’t because I really do love her series.

It’s the same with this book. Whatever the author’s reason for not using quotation marks, The Round House was still a very good story. Unlike with Elly Griffiths though, I’m not sure I’d read another book without quotation marks around dialog. It was simply too disjointed, having to continuously back up and re-read. Interestingly, when I read reviews of the book on Amazon, I didn’t see any mention of this. Well, I also didn’t read all of the thousand comments, so who knows. Someone else might have missed the mouse-turds, too.

What do you think makes a writing device succeed or fail? Why do you think authors choose to create a story that breaks the expected rules? And do you like to read books that step outside the traditional format?

 

The Story Question

My husband has hooked me on Dark Horizons podcasts. They play music I don’t normally listen to, but it’s grown on me. Some, like VNV Nation and Assemblage 23 have lyrics that blow me away. Besides the music, though, Dark Horizons also does this silly question segment, which is exactly what it sounds like. And all the listeners get to send in answers. A recent silly question was, ‘what should you not do naked’. My first response was shop for groceries. My husband’s was fry bacon. Lots of people said ‘fry bacon’. No one said ‘shop for groceries’. That should tell you I’m not their typical audience demographic.

But what the hey. The silly question thing is fun. I know people do this on blogs, too, and I think, honestly, it’s filler for when you can’t think of anything to write about. Since I’m in the middle of packing (my son says we own more books than furniture, and are the only people he knows who packs rocks), I freely admit to being overwhelmed and in the need of filler. Which made me decide to post a question here once in a while and see what kind of things we can stir up. 

Which brought me to a problem. Trying to find a question that isn’t corny, hasn’t been done to death, isn’t something you could find on any blog, makes you think, might make you laugh…you see the dilemma? How do I find something original to ask?

Well, there’s my question. I just saw it as I typed that last line above.

Storytelling has been going on for thousands of years. People often say there are no original stories, just retold ones. I imagine that’s the same whether you sing, or paint, or raise kids, or work nine-to-five, or pack rocks.

What does it mean to be original, and is there truly any originality left?

I’d love to hear your thoughts on this. 

My not so original photo

My not so original photo

My husband's more original photo of the same view

My husband’s more original photo of the same view