It's Not Just About Trump

More than thirty years ago I had to make one of the first decisions of my semi-adult life: which political party should I join? After much consideration, I registered Republican.

This decision was not made lightly. It was not made without a great deal of thought. Back then, there were some issues where I leaned right, and issues where I leaned left, and plenty of issues where I didn't care a whole lot one way or the other, but I had to make a choice, so I made one. The decision was made both rationally and irrationally (rational: on the issues that were most important to me at the time, I leaned right. Rational: registering as an independent would mean I couldn't vote in the primaries. Rational: I thought I might want a county job and I lived in a Republican dominated county. See? I was cynical even then. Irrational: my father was a Republican. Irrational: I wrote a letter to President Nixon during the energy crisis and got a letter and a neat little book).

Over the years, I've pulled the lever (and, now, filled in the circle with the pen and fed the ballot through the scanner; this is much less satisfying than the loud ka-thunk of a mechanical voting machine) for Republicans and Democrats alike, for every office from President down to Town Clerk. I've tried to be informed about my choices, and I've never been a person who votes simply by pulling the lever for any candidate with an 'R' after their name. Party, to me, has always been less important than the person running for office. I was a Republican, but hardly the card-carrying, sign waving, campaign contributing type.

And now it's time to get off the bus.

This is not about Donald Trump. Or, mostly, not about Donald Trump. In a certain way, Trump's ascendance to the role as Republican standard bearer is a sign that the system isn't broken, that it's working as intended. The people spoke, the Party swallowed and said, "Yeah, okay, he's our guy. We don't like him, but we can't change the rules." (And here's a note to the still-smarting "Bernie Bros" out there: the DNC was against you, but the rules is the rules. Don't complain about not being able to vote in a Democratic primary if you're an Independent or a Green or a Working Families if your state doesn't allow it. House Rules work great in Monopoly, but not in an election) We can trace the rise of Tump to the rise of Newt Gingrich back in the 90s, which, coincidentally, is around the time I first started thinking, "Why am I a Republican?"

Some time ago I wrote in this space about change, and my belief that, in general, people in the real world change slowly. My change from Republican to Democrat has been thirty years in the making. Who has changed? I think it's both of us. The things that brought me to the Republicans in the first place are no longer as important to me, while other issues are more important. And of the issues that weren't issues for me then? I consistently find myself on the other side of them. As I've gotten older, I've moved to the left. At the same time, the Republican Party has been moving further to the right. I am not the same, but neither is the Republican Party I signed on for all those years ago.

The final straw for me was not Trump standing there smugly in Cleveland in July. It was reading the Republican Party platform. As much as I can agree with certain Republican principles (fiscal conservatism, smaller, less intrusive government), there is so much in here to object to. If allowed, the Republicans would:

-attempt to overturn Roe v. Wade, either by judicial review or constitutional amendment returning abortion control to the state;
-attempt to overturn same sex marriage;
-allow individuals and business to discriminate against same sex couples under the guise of religious freedom;
-ignore the preponderance of scientific evidence regarding climate change and would also gut environmental protections offered by the EPA, the Clean Water Act, and the Endangered Species Act;
-remove women from combat roles and infantry battalions;
-replace "'family planning' programs for teens with sexual risk avoidance education that sets abstinence until marriage as the responsible and respected standard of behavior";
-push this country further toward what I think of as Judeo-Christian sharia.

Maybe some of you have read this and you say, "Yeah! I'm all for it! What's your beef?" To me, this document, this policy statement, is just not reflective of the modern world, which is in keeping with the platform writers' statement that "We believe the Constitution was written not as a flexible document, but as our enduring covenant." Welcome to 1789, folks.

Maybe it is just me. Maybe if I went back and read the Republican platform from when I registered to vote, I would find the same thing. Either way, I'm glad I changed. And when this election is over, I will be changing my voter registration.

We Made It...Now What?

Each year, our local high school holds its graduation ceremony at one of the loveliest sites in the area, a sloping sweep of lawn overlooking the lake. For the 12 years we've been here, I can't remember a day when the weather is bad--not that we were in the habit of attending graduation, mind you. When the Magpie took the walk, it was sunny and hot. Last year, when the Catbird had to be there for the ceremony as an usher, it was sunny and REAL hot. To my understanding, they haven't had to go to Plan B--holding graduation in the high school auditorium--in our time here.

Graduation day

Yesterday, they nearly had to go to Plan B. It rained Saturday afternoon. It rained Saturday night. It rained (heavily) Sunday morning. By the time we took Catbird up to the school at noon to get ready, it was still raining. But the weather service radar showed a hole in the clouds and the hour-by-hour forecast showed a window of non-rain. Apparently it was the students of the Class of 2015 who made the decision to go on with the show.

When we got to the site, the rain had turned into a mist. By the time the school buses arrived with the kids, it had stopped completely, and while the sun never really came out, it tried, and the day warmed up enough to be comfortable (except for the occasions when the wind blew), and it was fantastic. I am proud of my girls, and as much as I lament in a way the passing of this era, I look forward to the next one. We've already seen remarkable changes in the Magpie, whose self-confidence has soared in the last three years (and particularly the last 10 months when she's been living in Japan); now it's the Catbird's turn, and I can't wait to see her continue to grow.

This last week we spent a lot of time around the kids and parents of the Catbird's classmates. Some of them, like us, watched their last child graduate this year. Others have one, two, three or more to go. I find myself wondering how our relationship with these people--and with the community as a whole--will change. So much of our lives is centers around our kids and their lives. It always will, I suppose, but now the focus is a little different. Onward!

Monday Musing: Penultimates

Spring is supposed to be the time of  beginning, a time of newness, yet I find myself looking at lasts. Last week, for example, the Catbird performed in the high school's spring concert, which is the last official performance for that group for the year. Both band and chorus directors acknowledged the seniors in their respective groups. As the seniors in the chorus took their bows, I had one of those 'flash forward' kind of moments: "Damn," I thought. "Next year, that's the Catbird."

Yesterday, the Catbird went to a graduation party. After dropping her off I went to the supermarket, where I ran into the mother of one of Catbird's classmates. Naturally, we got to talking about the whole end-of-year thing, and the whole I-can't-believe-our-kids-are-going-to-be-seniors thing and all that. I'm going to be having these conversations a lot, and I don't think they're going to get any easier. As we talked about how difficult it was going to be to send our children off to college, I thought, "At least you've got one more coming up; this one's my last!" I'm not trying to suggest sending your first kid off to the great unknown of college is any less...painful...than sending your last, but there's definitely a bigger sense of something closing down, of reaching the end of a particular stage of my own life. When the Magpie went off to college for the first time 2-1/2 years ago (!), my wife and I put one foot in a new, undiscovered world. We entered a transition zone of some kind, a zone with a very foggy landscape. Just about a year from now the Catbird is going to wrap up her last day of school, and we're going to put both feet firmly in the land of part-time parents, where the house will be empty, and there won't be the headaches of trying to figure out when those cross country meets are, or how we're going to get this one there and that one here at the same time. I will miss it.

But...it goes on, for now, and in the coming weeks, when we're tearing our hair out trying to work out the logistics of four people, four schedules, one car, I'll try to remember that it's coming to an end, and I'll try to enjoy it.

Funny?

About a week ago, someone on another forum (not writing related) posted a series of funny pictures, peeled from a website. Here's one of them:

It's a sticker that you put on your luggage, the sort of thing that will cause, presumably, many a head to turn when you're wheeling through the airport. Looks like the sort of thing you'd see on Locked Up Abroad, doesn't it? There's a company that makes these things, and it's all in good fun. Here's another:

That will certainly get you some space in the airport, right? At least it isn't spiders. But wait, there's more. The company that makes these has one that has stacks of cash lined up neatly, presumably for delivering either of the above suitcases. Then they have this one:

A couple of people questioned the tastefulness of that last sticker; at least one person defended it as 'funny.' As for me? Well, I know I can see the humor, and I'm pretty sure there was a time in my life where I would indeed have found it pretty funny--probably when I was in high school. Now? Not so much. It should be noted the company that makes these does not have a matching sticker with a man stuffed in the suitcase. As for the people who do find it funny, I wonder if they would feel the same if it were an 8-year-old.

When I think about how I've changed over the course of my life, I often find it hard to pin down. In many, many ways, I don't feel any different than I did 30 years ago, when I probably would have found this suitcase sticker quite funny. Interestingly, that's where I find change can be most easily charted. This sticker? Not funny. In fact, it's quite troubling, given what's going on in the world these days.

That's it, have a good weekend, everyone.

The Second Week Blues

This is not a post about writing, not exactly. But then again, it's about life, so I'm sure there's some practical applications in it, especially to you New Adult writers.

The Magpie officially entered her second week at college yesterday, though she was not quite through her first week of classes. We took her last Wednesday and she had five full days to get settled and meet people. The school sponsored a whole bunch of events, parties, mixers, meetings, on and on, all designed to help new students adjust to college life.

We talked to her three times that first weekend, then used the wonders of Skype to videochat on Monday. Everything was great. She was having fun (but not the wrong kind of fun), she had connected with a couple of people who look like they could be good friends, and she reports that she hasn't met anyone who's a jerk (despite some drunken shouting from the courtyard outside her dorm late one night). When my wife suggested we come out there for a day over the coming weekend (on the pretense of back-to-school shopping for the Catbird), the Magpie hemmed and hawed and gave a non-committal response. It looked like she was going to push us off until Parents' weekend in October.

She's a smart kid, the Magpie. She didn't want move-in day to be a protracted affair with her family hanging around. It wasn't quite here's-your-dorm-gotta-go-see-you-at-Thanksgiving, but it wasn't  long and drawn out, either. She was anxious to get on with things, and it's tough to start forging connections when your parents and sister are hanging around all day. That attitude--"I need to be independent"--continued to come through in Monday's Skype chat. It's not that she didn't want to see us, or that she doesn't miss us; she just knows that the cord needs to be cut, at least a little.

Fast forward to last night. She's gone through a full week minus one day of classes, things are still going well, but as soon as we saw her on the chat, you knew something was wrong. She looked and sounded tired, she poked at the corners of her eyes a lot, and I thought maybe there was a tear or two. But there was a good reason: her computer picked up a nasty trojan, one that's proving difficult to get rid of. It kept her up late the previous night and occupied much of her free time yesterday, and still wasn't solved. The Magpie can have a tough time with adversity; she lets things like this ruin her day (and who can blame her? It's amazing how much of our lives get tied to computers). The funny thing about it, though, was how her attitude about our visit changed in three days. All of a sudden, she wants us to visit this weekend. And once it was decided that we would go, and we were trying to choose a day, she asked what we were doing today. Seems her classes get out at 11:40. Miss us much?

It's all fun and games that first weekend.

Now, she's got a reason to be down. Computer problems are very hard to deal with. And she had an assignment that had to be e-mailed to her instructor by 8 AM this morning, and she couldn't access the internet, so it was on to plan B. Still, I think part of her problem stems from the Week 2 Blues. I have a theory on this. Week 1 is all full of excitement and stimulation, and emotions of every kind. You're in new surroundings, surrounded by new people, all of whom are in the same boat as you. You're trying not to get lost on campus, and trying to figure out which dining hall actually has good food, and you're on your own, away from your parents and siblings. Independence! When classes start, it's more of the same, and very different from the high school dynamic (I remember one of the big shockers for me was a professor cursing in class!). And then week 2 starts. You're getting into routine and finding holes in your day. Two hours until the next class, what to do with yourself? Those holes give you too much time to think about your family and friends, the old hangouts and good times. It gives you time to be homesick, and gives you time to look around at other people and see how comfortable and cool they look. The first night or two at school is tough, because you're very aware of not being home, but it's still fresh and adventurous enough to be fun. The second week, though, watch out.

Of course, I could be wrong. It's been a long time since I went away to college. I think a lot of you are much closer to it. What do you think? Did you experience the 2^nd Week Blues? Have a great weekend, and thanks for stopping by.

Will Success Change Your Blog?

About five years back the Magpie convinced us to get a trial account for World of Warcraft, a multi-player online game, which has Tolkien, King Arthur and obvious and subtle pop culture references all rolled into one. My wife jumped into it right away and was hooked. I held out for about a month before I 'rolled' my own character and got similarly hooked.

Now, if you're not familiar with the way the game works, your character starts out as a level 1 with few abilities, a crummy weapon, and ugly clothes. As you complete quests and kill 'bad guys' (and most quests come down to killing bad guys), you gain experience points. Gain enough experience points and you see a lovely shower of light around your character and you 'ding', as they say, that is, you gain a level. As you gain levels you get new abilities and powers, fancier clothes, and gain access to more difficult zones and quests, and you need more experience to get to the next level. At the time we started playing, the level cap was 70, and it was a slow process to get there.

I was a total newbie at the time, and the social aspects of the game concerned me. Fearing my own incompetence, I mostly steered clear of group play, until the day I took turns saving and being saved by a fellow Paladin while fighting ogres. Eventually, she invited me into a group with some of her friends to run a dungeons; I threw away my fears, joined and had a great time.

I hit it off extremely well with one of the guys in the party, and over the next few days we ran more dungeons and did quests together. But my wife and I shared the account and she wanted to play, too, so I did not have a lot of uninterrupted time. A few days later, I noticed my buddy was in a different zone and was a couple of levels above me, and running the next tier of dungeons. Within two weeks he was thirty levels or so above me. We still talked, we were still friends, but we couldn't play together. He had left me behind.

I thought of this as I read Nancy S. Thompson's Wednesdaypost this week. Nancy has observed—and published authors have told her—that achieving publication can have a funny effect on your blog: you get fewer visitors and fewer comments, and you may even lose followers and friends. Nancy considers two possibilities, both quite valid: first, there's less time for blogging and cruising around commenting on other blogs for an author who is revising/rewriting under a deadline, and we all know there's a great degree of 'reap what you sow' in blogland. Second is the jealousy angle, that some people can't handle their jealousy and disappear. I admit, I am jealous and envious of Nancy and Lisa and Carrie and Peggy andcetra and so forth—they have agents, they have publishing deals, they have books coming out, and I don't, so I'm jealous. There. I said it. In keeping with the World of Warcraft theme, they're off in a 25-man raid killing Magtheridon while I'm slogging around Desolace killing lizards for gizzards that have a 2% drop rate. I'm jealous, but I can handle it. I envy their success, but I'm happy for them, I don't begrudge them, I know how hard they've worked and I'm not going to stop visiting their blogs just because they're published and I'm not. Not everyone can handle it, however, and some of those people may well disappear. It's an unfortunate part of human nature, but there it is.

But I think there's a third reason for the change in readership, one that may have more to do with the blogger rather than the reader, and it's back to Warcraft for this one. The game at level 70 (actually it's 85 now, soon to be 90 or 95 with the next expansion) is very, very different from the game at 22 going on 23, or 48, or 63. And I suspect that being a published author is a very different game from being an aspiring one.

When I was leveling my character, I'd log in and get right into questing (and I got a lot better at using guild chat while killing stuff, so I could be social AND effective; it made the game a lot more  fun once I found some friends), heading out into the dangerous world, following the quests where they took me, working on getting to the next level. Sometimes I'd head back to a home city to train new abilities or to put acquired junk in my bank, or to go to the Auction house to sell or buy, but most time was spent out in the world aiming at the next level.

At level 70 the game changed. Welcome to a new world, the world of raiding. The entry level raid at the time required an extensive quest to get a key to get into the dungeon. You also needed to get gear to help you survive more than 3 seconds in the raid environment, which meant running the top-level 5-man dungeons on heroic difficulty (and some of these dungeons required keys, which required special quests, too). There were daily quests and daily heroic dungeons, and then raids. But there was also a lot more standing around in a city waiting for something to happen, trying to put together a good group to go into those dungeons. There was more time spent in the auction house buying certain gear, or materials to make some specialty item, or going out fishing for special foods or picking flowers for potions, etc.--completely different gameplay from the act of leveling up.

And that, I think, may be what happens in the blog world. Looking at my list of followers, looking at the blogs I follow, there are many at or around the same 'level' as me. Reading about your trials and travails helps me—I'm not alone in my struggles, we share many of the same experiences and feelings. It's encouraging to me, and I try to offer support and encouragement in turn (at least in my comments, if not always in these posts). But what happens when you reach 'level cap'? (and what IS level cap for an author, anyway? I sure don't know) When I publish, will my concerns shift into different areas, and will the nature of this blog change? And if it changes, will you have a reason to come back?

I can't answer these questions from my own experience. I am interested, though. For the published authors out there, has publication changed your style and focus of blogging, and what has that done to your readership? And for the non-published among us, have you seen changes in your favorite blogs once the owners reached 'level cap'?

Thanks for reading and commenting, and have a great weekend.

Give The People What They Want

Ahh, The Kinks must have had a "Low Budget" for videos when they filmed that one....

Several weeks ago, a bit of a hubbub broke out on Absolute Write concerning author Elle Lothlorien, who brazenly flouts the 'never respond to a bad review' convention by, well, responding to bad reviews. She takes a 'customer service' approach to bad reviews by responding, apologizing, sometimes explaining, and telling people how to get their money back if they're not satisfied.

Ms. Lothlorien also flouts another standard of writing, which is, once released, a book is carved in stone. After learning that readers of her book, Sleeping Beauty, were divided into two camps, a la Twilights Team Edward and Team Jacob, she produced an alternative version of her book in which the heroine chose the other guy. The details are explained in a lengthy post here. This, I guess, is the beauty of e-books: they're a hell of a lot easier to revise than the printed version.

Maybe you think Ms. Lothlorien is a pioneer eager to embrace the new technology and all the possibilities it offers. Maybe you think she's a cynic, out to wring as much money out of her books as possible by offering alternatives. Maybe you don't think anything. Personally, this bothers me a bit. The way I see it, if I'm satisfied with my book when it goes to publication (and I damn well better be, or why am I publishing it at all?), then that's the way it is. I subscribe to 'carved in stone' notion. You want to provide new content for loyal readers as some promotion? Fine, write a short story using your characters, or polish up an excised chapter and release it just for them. I'd do that. Change the end? No, thanks. But that's me, and that's her, and if she wants to mess around with the ending because a bunch of readers like one love interest better than another, I suppose that's up to her.

I'm reminded of this by an article, Your E-book Is Reading You that was linked on AW earlier this week. The summary of it is that the makers of e-readers are using all kinds of data-capture techniques to learn about readers. Now, this is a good thing, in general, but I can't help but feel like we're opening a big ass can of worms, and some of it, quite frankly, makes me uncomfortable. If you've been paying attention to me, you're not surprised at this fact. I'm not anti-technology, exactly, but I am very cautious about it.

Data doesn't just include basic demographic information about who is buying what. To quote the article:

The major new players in e-book publishing—Amazon, Apple and Google—can easily track how far readers are getting in books, how long they spend reading them and which search terms they use to find books.Book apps for tablets like the iPad, Kindle Fire and Nook record how many times readers open the app and how much time they spend reading. Retailers and some publishers are beginning to sift through the data, gaining unprecedented insight into how people engage with books.

Okaaaay, this bugs me out on a privacy level. I'm not a tinfoil hat wearing, anti-government nut job, but I get uncomfortable with some of this stuff. It's a bit of an invasion of privacy, but then again, I'm sure my cable company knows what channels I prefer, and my ISP knows where my favorite websites are and who I'm in most frequent contact with via e-mail. For now, we have assurances that e-reader data is being pooled, that they're not looking at individuals. But how are they using this information?

Pinpointing the moment when readers get bored could also help publishers create splashier digital editions by adding a video, a Web link or other multimedia features, Mr. Hilt (NOTE: Hilt is Barnes & Noble's VP of e-books) says. Publishers might be able to determine when interest in a fiction series is flagging if readers who bought and finished the first two books quickly suddenly slow down or quit reading later books in the series.

"The bigger trend we're trying to unearth is where are those drop-offs in certain kinds of books, and what can we do with publishers to prevent that?" Mr. Hilt says. "If we can help authors create even better books than they create today, it's a win for everybody."

Further along in the article we get this:

Some publishers are already beginning to market test books digitally, before releasing a print edition. Earlier this year, Sourcebooks, which publishes 250 titles a year, began experimenting with a new model of serial, online publishing. Sourcebooks has released early online editions for half a dozen titles, ranging from romance to young adult to nonfiction books, and has solicited questions and suggestions from readers. Eventually, readers' feedback will be incorporated into the print version.

Now, this is how publishing currently works. I write a book. Along the way, I have crit partners and beta readers, who provide me invaluable feedback and help me shape my book. Then there's an agent, and, finally, the editorial team. By the time the book is ready for publishing, a lot of people have weighed in and had a hand in shaping the final product. I'm cool with that. What Sourcebooks is doing, really, is extending the beta reading a little further. Is there any harm in this? Again, maybe not. I don't know how they get back to that author--probably someone collates the data and gives it to the editor, who in turn communicates this to the author. It's no different, I guess, than test screening movies or TV programs. Still, as this sort of thing gets bigger, it starts to make me more uncomfortable. I can argue with an editor. My impression is that most editors, if you can justify why you don't want to make a change they suggest, will say, "Okay, fine" and let it go. But how can you argue against 250, 300 people? Finally, though, we get to this point:

Few publishers have taken the experiment as far as Coliloquy, a digital publishing company that was created earlier this year ….Coliloquy's digital books, which are available on Kindle, Nook and Android e-readers, have a "choose-your-own-adventure"-style format, allowing readers to customize characters and plot lines. The company's engineers aggregate and pool the data gleaned from readers' selections and send it to the authors, who can adjust story lines in their next books to reflect popular choices.

And now you've lost me. The article goes on to relate how one author planned to write a character out of her book, until data told her that almost 30% of readers preferred him to the other two romantic interests. So she changed it.

I have nothing I can say to this. It boggles my mind. It makes me angry, to be honest, and it makes me worry about the future of writing. What happened to telling YOUR story, the way YOU want to tell it? If we're getting to this point, why have authors at all?

There's a really good chance I'm making a huge mountain out of a very small molehill, except I don't think that's the case. Watch television, where we're glutted with pseudo-reality shows that all look the same, because that's what people want. Go to the movies, where we see the same exploding car chases, superhero tales, and teen sex flicks (all in super-glorious 3-D) because that's what people want. Yes, publishing is a business, and businesses have to make money, so we do get a lot of trendiness in fiction (not to mention the latest celebrity tell-all, cookbook, parenting tips), but it's also a lot easier to find things that are radically different, things that are unique, that have a fresh perspective, in a bookstore than it is in the movies or on TV.

At least, it was.

Sorry for the rant. I am very, very interested in what you all have to say on this topic. Tell me. And have a nice weekend.

The Book of the Future

"Can it core a apple?"

"Oh, it can core a apple!"

Those lines come from a classic episode of The Honeymooners titled "Better Living Through TV." In it, Ralph buys time during a movie broadcast and appears as The Chef of the Future, presenting a tool—The Handy Housewife Helper—that will revolutionize the kitchen, a tool that will "do the work of all these old-fashioned gadgets." I thought of this earlier in the week when Nathan Bransford (you do read Nathan, don't you?) speculated on The Book of the Future.

Nathan compared the Book of the Future to the introduction of color to motion pictures in the 1920s and 30s. Once used as a 'special effect', color has become the default for movies and TV. If you're using B&W, you'd better have a damn good reason. Nathan wonders if a similar revolution is occurring with books. The technology exists, he points out, for books to be "colorful, interactive, three-dimensional. Imagine," he goes on, "the ease of a hyperlinked choose your own adventure novel or instructional videos within a cookbook." 

It sounds fun. Marrying technologies to produce a true multi-media experience is not necessarily a bad thing. Imagine having your Chilton manual on a tablet with a 3-D image of your car's engine so you can really see where that cotter pin is, and being able to rotate the image and zoom in on it, for example. Or being able to see on video the moment your egg whites turn to meringue (though my own limited experience with this is you really do need to go by feel, not by look). For fiction, maybe there's some way to have a truly interactive experience with your book wherein you get to guess the identity of the jewel thief or the mysterious lover. There are a lot of possibilities. Sony's Wonderbook seems pretty cool, but right now it still looks like all style and no substance, a lot of flash and sizzle, and little more than a video game masquerading as a book. For this to be truly innovative, it will take thinkers with more imagination than me thinking outside the box. I am not that guy. I worry too much that technology will manifest itself in little more than a cheap grab for cash (see my earlier blog post on this subject).

To me the beauty of books is their very simplicity. They use words—only words--to paint the pictures, set the scene, make us think and feel, to present ideas. That’s it. Words on a page, nothing more. Change what it's printed on, from rag to pulp to a video terminal or touch screen; go from ink to pixels to whatever; cover it with leather or cloth and wrap it in crinkly plastic slipcovers: In the end it's still words on a page, words with power. It doesn't need anything else. It's my hope that, for The Book of the Future, technology never trumps story, that pictures and video inserts or sound never get in the way of the beauty of words. Long live books. Even if they can't core a apple. Have a great weekend, everyone.

Change, or Lack Thereof

This weekend I found myself watching what I believe is the penultimate episode of TV medical drama, House. In the episode, House is 'kidnapped' by his only real friend, Dr. Wilson, for a three day cruise across the country. Wilson received rather unconventional treatment in the previous episode for cancer, and will be finding out in a few days if it worked. On the trip, Wilson acts in a very un-Wilson manner: he flouts the law, eats an 88-ounce steak in an hour, and requests a three-way with a prostitute and a lady bartender. And all along, House watches him and waits. "People don't change," House says. It's a recurring theme in House's world. Through all the eight seasons of the show, House has always maintained this belief, right up there with "Everybody lies" and "It's never lupus." "People don't change."

Change is at the heart of books. We want to see change and growth in characters, it's part of what makes for a great story. But what if a character doesn’t change? What then? A while back I wrote a couple of posts about the Unforgivable Sin in terms of character, asking if there was something a character could do that would render him irredeemable to readers. In the hands of a skilled author, we can probably forgive anything a character can do. But can we forgive the author if the character doesn't change?

I ask this question because I'm looking at my 'first' novel, something I wrote two years ago for NaNoWriMo. I pitched it in the figurative trunk of my computer, deciding it was really bad, but when I reached an end point on Parallel Lives I took it out and started working on it again, because, I don't know, maybe I didn't have anything new in my head to work on, maybe because I thought it was redeemable. So I did some work on it, expanding the story beyond the 52,000 words or so I had managed to crank out for NaNo (By the way, this is NOT the work that I just reached a conclusion on; this one is back on hiatus, but could come back out again). And I realized that this character didn't change. From the beginning of the story to the end, he doesn't change.

It seems right for him. It's the kind of guy he is. I personally think change is difficult for people. Not impossible, as House would hold, but difficult. I look at myself as a man in my mid-forties and, in many ways, I haven't changed. I've learned from some mistakes, but not all of them. And the notion of a character going through a story and not changing seems very logical to me. But what about you? Is lack of change an unforgivable sin for an author? If you reached the end of a 250- or 300-page book and found the main character had not changed at all, would you be upset? Would you throw the book across the room and write nasty reviews on Amazon and Goodreads and your blogs and swear off me forever? Or would it depend on the book itself?

Thanks for reading and commenting, and happy blogiversary toCarrie! Funny, it's mine, too, but I'm not nice, so I don't have anything for you (not yet; maybe I'll do something later this week or next).