What makes a plot “arthritic”?

In my post on Ann Tyler’s A Spool of Blue Thread I quoted the Washington Post’s assessment (at the beginning of a rave review) that its plot was “arthritic”  I don’t know what that means.  Presumably the reviewer is talking about the events of the novel, which are standard-issue Ann Tyler: ordinary people working their way through ordinary problems.  But isn’t that what most literary fiction is about?  Alice McDermott’s Somewhere and Elizabeth Strout’s Olive Kitteredge, for example, are no different, except in their locations.  (I talk about them briefly here and here.)

Maybe the reviewer doesn’t like how Tyler lays out the structure of the events?  But that can’t be it.  The structure is perfectly comprehensible, but she fractures the time sequence and the points of view in interesting and modern ways.  The novel begins by hopping forward through time a bit, and it ends unexpectedtly with two deep flashbacks, one with about the grandparents, who are dead long before the main action begins, and the other about how the parents fell in love, decades before the action begins.  And it ends with a brief scene that gives us the first point of view section of a main character (perhaps the main character).  Again, this is similar to what McDermott and Strout do in their novels, which hop around endlessly in their time sequences.

Ultimately, I think the reviewer just felt the need to make a glancing reference to Tyler’s age.  She’s been writing fine novels for 50 years, and she knows what she’s doing.

I wish I could do it.

 

Diagramming the first sentences of famous novels

For Christmas one of my sons gave me a wonderful present–a poster showing the grammatical diagrams of the opening sentences of some famous novels.  What a kid!

Here’s a column about this poster.titled “23 Sentence Diagrams That Show the Brilliance of Famous Novels’ Opening Lines”.  It’s nice that Business Insider thinks that grammar and literature are worth a column, but the diagrams show nothing of the sort.  Here, for example, is the first line of 1984:

This is a wonderful sentence, but its diagram doesn’t tell you why.  Substitute the word “twelve” for the word “thirteen” and you just have bland scene-setting.  The “thirteen” jars you–something is different here; something is off.  That’s where the brilliance comes in.

Similarly, here is one of my favorites:

What makes this sentence brliiant?  It’s the word “screaming,” of course.  Substitute the word “plane” or “bird” and the sentence loses everything.

And another favorite, Lolita:

Hey, that isn’t even a sentence!  You’ve gotta pretend it has a verb.  But anyway, would this sentence work if it read: “Ernie, fixer of my brakes, changer of my oil”?  Same diagram, but not quite the same effect.  The brilliance comes from the alliteration and the rhythm; it’s closer to poetry than to prose.

Some famous first sentences having nothing much to recommend them except that they begin famous novels.  Like:

This is a nice, short, punchy sentence, but there’s nothing special about the three words it contains.  It’s memorable because of what comes after it.

Anyway, the poster is great, my kid is great, and the sentences are great.  Let’s not oversell the concept, though.

So that’s what my novel is all about!

When I’m writing a novel, there usually comes a point when I realize what it’s all about.  Not the details of the plot–working them out is a constant process–but the reason I’m bothering to write it.  It’s a bit odd that I never seem to figure this out before I starting in on the thing, but there you have it.

Anyway, I’m deeply into the first draft of the sequel to my novel The Portaland I find that I have suddenly reached this point.  Which is a considerable relief, actually.  Now I’m not just telling a story; I’m telling a story that matters to me.

My new novel “Where All the Ladders Start” is available now!

My new novel Where All the Ladders Start is out on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Google Play, and other fine ebook retailers.  For those of you who haven’t been paying attention, it’s the third book in my Last P.I. series, which also includes Dover Beach and The Distance Beacons. In this one, our hero, Walter Sands, investigates the disappearance of the charismatic leader of the Church of the New Beginning. Twists and turns ensue, along with lots of humor and a few Deep Ideas.

Ladders cover final jpeg

(Note to local readers: even though there is snow on the cover, no shoveling takes place in the novel, and only a small amount of dangerous driving.  This is the nice kind of snow, not the kind of never-ending, soul-destroying snow that is falling as I type these words.)

The ebook is priced at a mere $4.99.  A print version will be available shortly.  If you want a print copy, let me know and I can send you an autographed copy at a discount.

Two readers have already left reviews of Where All the Ladders Start.  Here’s the first, which was up before I even knew the book was available:

fantastic series, rich characters, read this, read the whole series!

it may seem like hyperbole but I LOVE the characters and ideas that roam the world they are set in, and so should you. give this a try!

And here’s the second:

Most excellent.
I look forward to the next in the series.

So I really don’t see why you don’t just go buy the book right now.  You don’t even have to go out into the snow!

Building worlds, and remembering them

A while back I told a friend of mine that I was working on the third book in my Last P.I. series (it’s called Where All the Ladders Start and it will be available incredibly soon now).  He asked me, “How do you keep track of all that’s going on in that world?  The characters’s names, what they look like, and so forth.  Do you maintain a story bible or something like that?”

“Er, um, no,” I stammered.  “But it sure sounds like a good idea.”

This isn’t Game of Thrones, but there really does get to be a lot to keep track of after a while.  Walter’s friend Mickey, who drives Bobby Gallagher’s van — did I give him a last name at one point?  If I did, I sure have no memory of what it is.  How much detail have I provided for the Salvage Market?  What’s the layout of Walter’s house in Louisburg Square?  And what exactly have I said (and not said) about the war that landed everyone into this messy world in which the novels are set?

Luckily, Microsoft Word’s search capabilities are powerful enough that I can home in quickly on the relevant passages in the earlier books.  But I continue to worry that some sharp-eyed reader with a better memory than mine will point out some inconsistency, the way they notice goofs in continuity and historical accuracy in films, goofs that are then listed in excruciating detail on IMDB. (“The cup is by his left forearm in one scene, and then it shifts two inches closer to his wrist in the next!”)

So clearly I should create such a bible.  But really, I rather be writing.  So I guess I’ll just take my chances.

Books I read in 2014

Some of them, anyway, and in no particular order.  A couple others I’ve talked about previously.

King Leopold’s Ghost — This harrowing book, about the Belgian colonization of the Congo, is depressing enough to make to make you swear off humanity once and for all.

The Origins of Consciousness in the Breakdown of the Bicameral Mind — Written decades ago, the author’s thesis still holds up pretty well, it seems to me.  I read it as an ebook, and the OCR is pretty bad, though.  It has a cameo role in my new novel, Where All the Ladders Start.  See if you can spot it!

The Glory of the KingsThis is a novel by my cousin’s husband, Dan Close, and it’s really good.  It’s about Ethiopia repelling an Italian invasion in 1896, and Dan’s affection for his characters and his deep understanding of the country (he served in the Peace Corps there) shine through on every page.

Someone — Alice McDermott’s novel is the kind I wish I could write but can’t — a series of vignettes from an ordinary life, scattered in time, that add up to way more than the sum of their parts.

All the Shah’s Men — This is the story of the US and British-led coup of the Iranian leader in 1953.  If you want to know why so many people hate us in Iran, this is a good place to start.  We have a lot to be sorry for, but the Iranians don’t come off looking very good either.

Our Mathematical Universe — Max Tegmark is an MIT professor with interesting ideas about multiverses.  I’m incapable of judging the science behind his speculations, but he’s an engaging writer.  Very useful background if you’re interested in writing alternative history novels set in a multiverse.

Inferno — This is a history of Word War 2 by Max Hastings.  I’m not sure why I decided to listen to it, except I had this suspicion that I didn’t know much about the subject, and it turned out I was correct.  Ask me anything about the Battle of the Bulge.  OK, don’t do that.  But at least I now have a clue about what the battle was all about.

The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman — I remember being entranced by this novel when I was in high school  Either I have a faulty memory, or I was one weird kid (probably both are true).  The book is occasionally hilarious and charming, but eventually I found the endless digressions annoying, and I started skimming.

Echo Burning — I keep dipping into Lee Child’s oeuvre.  This one is better than some of his later books, but as usual he goes to great lengths to justify why Jack Reacher has to go around killing everyone in sight.

The Demon under the Microscope — I had this suspicion that I didn’t know anything about the development of sulfa drugs in the 1930s, and it turned out I was correct.  A very entertaining story about the discovery of the first antibiotics, and how they changed the world.

Salt — I also had this suspicion that I didn’t have a proper understanding of the role of salt in world history.  Now I do, but I’m not sure I care.  Listening to this book was a mistake; if I had read it, I would have skimmed long sections of it.  Recipes don’t work well in audiobooks.

The Circle — This is David Eggers’ brave-new-worldy novel about modern social media and Facebooky corporations.  I found it predictable and uninteresting, and finally I gave up on it.

Why Nations Fail — The authors have an explanation, which they hammer home relentlessly.  It seemed pretty persuasive to me, but what do I know?

The Origins of Political Order — By Francis Fukuyama.  More than I wanted to know about almost everything.

Eternity’s End

My friend Jeff Carver has been running a highly successful BookBub promotion of his epic Nebula-nominated science-fiction novel Eternity’s End. Only 99 cents!  But hurry–this is the sale’s final weekend!

Here’s the star-spanning description:

The Flying Dutchman of the stars! Rigger and star pilot Renwald Legroeder undertakes a search for the legendary ghost ship Impris—and her passengers and crew—whose fate is entwined with interstellar piracy, quantum defects in space-time, galactic coverup conspiracies, and deep-cyber romance. A stand-alone Star Rigger novel, and an excellent starting point for readers new to the Star Rigger Universe. A Nebula Award finalist, from the author of The Chaos Chronicles.

I have always wanted to write novels about interstellar piracy, quantum defects in space-time, galactic coverup conspiracies, and deep-cyber romance.  But somehow Jeff always beats me to it.

The hardest thing about writing fiction…

. . . is transitions.

I have spent most of the day getting my characters from one place to another.  They were doing something interesting in the place they left.  I am confident that they’ll do something even more interesting when they arrive at their destination.  There’s really not a whole lot to say about the journey, though.  You can’t just say, “After a dull journey they arrived where they were going.”  But you don’t want to go on for too long about what they saw and heard and thought about and felt during the journey, because none of that really matters.  You have to right-size the thing.

I’m exhausted.

Why Amazon is not a monopoly

Franklin Foer of The New Republic has joined the ranks of folks with Amazon Derangement Syndrome; take a look at this article.  The best response I’ve seen is this blog post at the Washington Post (now owned, of course, by Jeff Bezos). To Foer’s assertion that big publishers just can’t compete in the face of Amazon’s demands, the author points out the obvious:

They just can’t compete?  Why the hell not?  They can’t sell their e-books from their own websites?  Why is that?  Or at barnesandnoble.com?  Powells.com?  Ebooks.com?  The ebook market is, as the antitrust lawyers say, as “contestable” a market as one can imagine, with virtually no barriers to entry.  Sell your stuff there, at whatever price you want to sell it at.  If you want Amazon to sell your stuff, you have to take their terms.  It’s not “exacting tribute”!  It’s “business as usual.”  If you don’t like it, go elsewhere.

Of course, convincing people that Jeff Bezos is the devil and Amazon is an evil empire is one way of competing; I don’t find it a very compelling approach, though.

As I mentioned in another post, the one time I wanted to buy a Hachette book on Amazon lately, it took me three clicks to find it at Barnes & Noble with a 20% discount.  No monopoly here.