Sentential Links!

Time for linkage! These are from blogs of fellow writer type people.

:: Sometimes life imitates art, but more often it’s the other way around. As strange as it sounds, what happens to Sara in this chapter happened to me when I was visiting my best friend’s grave. Darbi died in a car accident when we were only seventeen, and I thought of her often while I was writing this book. Her death hit me really hard, but I believe what happened that day at her gravesite was her way of letting me know she was okay. (I haven’t been reading this story, but I do believe in our writing and our art being shaped by the things that have happened to us along the way.)

:: Something incredible happened to me this weekend. It was an unexpected, monumental moment in my life, one that I have dreamed about for so long but part of me actually doubted if it would ever happen. But it did happen. It definitely did and I have the proof here on my computer.

I started to write my novel again.

:: Do you ever read a book and one of the main characters, or a beloved character, dies? Do you get upset with the story itself or do you actually get upset at the writer? (It depends, I suppose. A death has to make some semblance of sense within the story. It needs to be set up; it can’t be arbitrary. Yes, in life, death is often insanely arbitrary, but I don’t read or write in order to reflect the real world. Arbitrary death always feels false to me. So does excessive death. George RR Martin comes close to being excessive at times, although frankly, the degree to which his stories are bloodbaths isn’t really among my complaints about his books. Nicholas Sparks, though? There’s a guy who is so reliant on death as a narrative device that it really lessens the impact his books have, the more you read. And then there are movies where the villains do so much killing that it’s not a moment of triumph when they are defeated, but one of relief. I’m thinking of The Patriot, with that awful scene in which a villain whose villainy is already well established decides to lock a bunch of colonists in a church and set the church afire. Another example is Air Force One, which has Gary Oldman kill a couple of people in taking over the plane…and then, a bit later on, has a gratuitously depressing scene where he holds a gun to some poor woman’s head as he gives the Action Hero President until the count of ten to surrender. The President doesn’t, and Oldman kills the woman. For me, in my writing, death is the Big Gun. I know that I will have to kill a few characters off over the long haul, but I don’t look forward to it. You know who handled death really well in her books? JK Rowling. The deaths in the Harry Potter books get to both mean something and be arbitrary. I’m kind of starting to think that Rowling is underrated as a writer.)

:: Have you planned a writing retreat or attended one? (I never have, and I’m not sure I’d want to…let me put that differently, I’d be nervous about attending one. I tend to be wary of sharing my work or talking about writing at all, which is my introvert self taking over. Maybe I need to start getting over it….)

:: So far, so good.

I have a place for all the Elements.

But the problem I have here, is that the mythology of these Elemental directions is then out of whack.

This causes me problems, because I like the idea of endings in the West, where the sun sets, and begins in the East, with the rising sun, and the many stories that go with these associations.

Placing my Elements as I have, doesn’t fit this.

So what is one to do?

:: Parker is almost six, though she will correct you immediately that she is “five and three-quarters” if she hears you say that because she is precise, and detail-oriented, and very much her father’s daughter in that way.

But she is my daughter too.

A daughter that I was petrified of having, and then elated that I was having – all because of a very tumultuous past I have with my own mother.

:: Sometimes when I’m reading a novel or watching a show, the writer throws an empty threat into it. In a novel I was recently reading, a love triangle develops, but I knew from day one that the protagonist was going to stay with her first love. Yet, the author dragged me about this awkward love triangle for the majority of the book. It was still interesting, but it lacked stakes, it lacked intensity because I knew nothing big would come out of it.

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Of buckets and the dumping of the water therein

If you’ve lived beneath a rock of late, you may have missed a viral fundraising activity that’s going around the social media sites. I’m not even sure of the exact “rules”, but it’s all voluntary anyway, so it’s not like the rules matter all that much. It involves dumping, or having someone else dump, a bucket full of ice water over your head, after which you challenge a few other folks to do the same, whilst making a small donation to the ALS Assocation. ALS (Lou Gehrig’s Disease) is a particularly awful way to go, and like all awful diseases, its defeat is a worthy goal. There’s been an awful lot of tut-tutting over the thing, and to my way of thinking (along with Roger, who as always has some good links), that all pretty much misses the point. Donations are way up, and people are having fun doing it, so what’s the problem? Why be such a Muggle? Fuhgeddaboudit!

Anyway, I received my challenge/nomination last week, and I finally got ’round to doing the deed. Aside from the efficacy of this as a fundraiser (yes, I did kick in a few Quatloos!), what are my thoughts on up-ending a bucket of water over my head? Well, it actually felt good! Luckily I got a fairly warm day. This particular summer hasn’t been all that hot in my neck o’ the woods, but I imagine this would have felt awesome on a 90-degree scorcher in July. It was over quickly, and if it had been really hot, maybe I wouldn’t have even bothered changing afterward — I could just hang out outside and air-dry. Alas, it wasn’t quite that warm.

So yeah, I got my challenge done. I’m not challenging anyone else, seeing as how I think I’m coming to this bit at the tail end of its potency (most folks I know have already done it, anyway). But my friends should be warned: if a similar fundraising challenge starts making the rounds that involves a pie in the face, oh, there will be some challenging going on!

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A Feline Love Story

Yesterday morning I brought my computer down to the dining room table, where I did some work whilst enjoying my coffee. At one point I looked down, to my left, and saw that my parents’ Persian cat was hanging out on our porch, right outside our sliding glass door. (They live next door now.) Along came Lester, and the following transpired:

First, a meeting. Shared looks and stares. He’s looking eager, while she, ever the Lady, is playing it cool. She’s avoiding eye-contact, and doesn’t want to seem eager. But she isn’t going away, either.

At last the eye contact comes…but alas! The infernal glass door is still there, forever separating the two feline lovers!

The intensity of Lester’s smoldering stare becomes too much. She must look away, lest she be drawn into his web of kitty passion!
Finally Lester decides it’s time for a dramatic gesture, displaying what he thinks is his best feature, his enormous gray belly. Sadly, it is, in reality, far from his best feature.
Her reaction to this? “Um…yeah. I gotta go do something now.” And away she went, seconds later, to return to her own porch. But see, she loves our porch, likely because of the chipmonks who live beneath it. She’ll be back. And next time, it may be Julio!
She’s a vixen, that one.

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Symphony Saturday

In this installment, we finally reach what is, for me, the most fertile ground for emotionally moving symphonic work ever: late 19th century Russia.

The symphonic tradition, as Leonard Bernstein once pointed out, is a Germanic one, and even in the hands of Russian composers, the formal approach to the symphony is dominated by the fundamental aspects of the form that arose in German and Austria. As Bernstein put it, “Russian symphonies are German ones with vodka substituted for beer.” That’s not a bad way of putting it. The form is still the same, but the melodic material in the Russian realm tends to be much more lyrical and much more folkish in nature. This is only natural, because Russia was one of the great hotbeds of nationalism in music, which became a potent force in the latter half of the 1800s.

(As an aside, it’s interesting to note how nationalism could be such a potent force in driving the creation of some of the most wonderful music ever written, and yet, in politics, the nationalism of the late 1800s eventually led straight to the staggering catastrophe that was World War I.)

Balakirev wanted a Russian “school” of music, as free from Western European influence as possible, and to that effort, he gathered around himself a handful of Russia’s most talented young composers, a group which later became known simply as “The Five”: Balakirev himself, Cesar Cui, Modest Mussorgsky, Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov, and Alaexander Borodin. Balakirev mentored the other four composers for a time, although his influence waned as he tried to wield stronger and stronger influence over his charges, who were, perhaps, more talented than he. Balakirev was no second-tier musician himself, though, and if his music has been overshadowed and sometimes neglected, that’s more the pity.

In Balakirev’s Symphony No. 1, you can certainly hear the ideas of exotic color and singing lyricism that would shine forth so strongly in later Russian composers, with their symphonies of dramatic build, and their long melodies. This symphony is, in many ways, the start of a path that would lead to such works near to my heart as Rimsky-Korsakov’s Scheherazade, Tchaikovsky’s Symphony No. 5, and ultimately, Rachmaninov’s Symphony No. 2. Here is the Symphony No. 1 by Mily Balakirev.


Next week: A visit to Italy. The Italians are not known for much of a symphonic tradition in the 1800s at all, being the most operatic of countries, but there were still symphonies being written, and we’ll hear one!

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Answers the Third! (The Instagram edition)

OK, here is another set of answers! All of these were posed by Instagram users over there. One thing that I find really interesting about social media is the way there is some overlap, but it’s definitely not 100 percent. There are people who read this blog and with whom I’m Facebook friends, there are those with whom I’m FB friends and whom I follow on Twitter, there are those whom I follow on Twitter and Instagram…and there are those I only know on one particular platform. It’s neat to see the interplay and the different “feels” of each particular arena…but generally, people tend to be nice and open-minded and of good cheer everywhere.

And now, the questions:

Thoughts on Abe Lincoln?

One of the greatest Presidents, quite clearly…and I wonder what he might have accomplished had he not been put in a position where the only real thing he was asked to accomplish was to keep things from falling apart completely. On the one hand, it took a man that great to keep things from utter collapse, but what might have happened had he not been tasked with preventing the most negative outcome? And more, what might he have accomplished had John Wilkes Booth not killed him?

I actually don’t know a great deal about Lincoln, beyond the standard “American mythology” stuff. I suppose one day I should do some reading on him, because as with all things, the truth is more complicated than the myth. However, there’s really no getting around the fact that he was in all likelihood the exact right man on the scene for the job he had to do.

Van Halen: Hagar or Roth?

It’s been said many times that you can only be one or the other…but not by me, because I love both. In all honesty, I love both eras of the band, both the harder-rocking DLR era and the more poetic sound of the Sammy period. Now, if I choose to listen to Van Halen, I’m probably going to select something from the Sammy period, because song for song, my favorites tend to come from that time. But that preference is nowhere near strong enough for me to claim an overall preference for Sammy over DLR. They’re both different. To me, it’s like making PB&J with grape jelly, versus PB&J with strawberry jam. Different experiences with a lot in common…and both favorites of mine!

Heart: Ann or Nancy?

I can’t pick one. Seriously, I can’t. I see them as an inseparable unit. The two of them together accomplish something like alchemy. I don’t think you can really have Heart without either one of them!

When did you start writing?

This is a great question, because I can read it a number of different ways. For instance, “When did I start writing” can mean, “When did I first get the sense that I might be good at telling stories?” For that version of the question, I’d say, very early on…maybe even as early as preschool. I honestly do not recall a time when I didn’t like making up tales in my own head.

There are a lot of ways to tell stories, though, so when did I start to gravitate toward this thing called writing? Sometime in grade school, I suppose. The realization that I could take those letters and numbers that I knew and use them to spin tales came quickly, and I remember writing stories as early as first grade. My favorite assignments were “write your own story” assignments, and eventually I got to the point where I enjoyed writing stuff as a hobby.

So when, then, did I start thinking that writing might be a realistic career goal? Probably the late 1990s, when I started trying to write better and when I started earlier novels. None of those works went anywhere, although I did start piling up a stack of rejection slips for my short fiction, occasionally getting a “This is really good but I still can’t use it right now” note scrawled by some editor in the margin. I’ve kept at it pretty much ever since, sometimes on an “off-and-on” basis. There were a couple of years in the mid-2000s when I barely wrote anything at all. Some of those years are a complete fog to me now, and I don’t really miss that decade.

The final way to look at this question is, “When did I realize that writing was my calling/mission in life/the thing I’m best at doing and I should really just get about the business of doing it?” That was just a few years ago, actually, when I finally decided that it was time to actually write that story I’d been kicking around in my head for over ten years, the one about two sisters who happen to be Princesses and who happen to go out into space and have some adventures. I don’t know if all writerly-types do this, but I certainly have been known to sit on story ideas for a long time, whether out of fear or some notion that maybe one day I’ll be good enough to write that idea. I finally realized I was taking the utterly wrong approach, and all the nifty story ideas in the world are no good to anyone if they’re still in my head when my own curtain comes down. I started writing Princesses In SPACE!!! (not the actual title) in 2011, I think, so I might have “started writing” right about then. Or fifteen years earlier. Or ten to twenty years before that…or even earlier.

I think I’ve started writing a whole lot of times, to tell the truth.

More answers to come!

(And you know what? As of October 1, I won’t have to refer to Princesses In SPACE!!! (not the actual title) in that way anymore. I can’t wait!)

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Dispatches from the Fair, 2014 edition

As another August starts to wind down, another iteration of the Erie County Fair recedes into memory. The Fair is one of our favorite things, and a source of a lot of bright and happy memories, all the way back to the first time we attended, way back in, I think, summer 2001. Here are some photographic memories of our time at this year’s Fair!

You know how the biggest flags around are at Perkins Restaurants? Not so much!

It’s kind of hard to make out, but behind the flag, you can see the long wire that served as the infrastructure for this year’s Big Event, when highwire artist Nik Wallenda (who made big news a couple years back traversing Niagara Falls on one of those) walked over the Fair. Sadly, this took place the day after our day at the Fair. Oh well, maybe next time!

As always, we spent some time at the animal barns (which are now less ‘barns’ than ‘big metal buildings’, which are frankly a lot nicer than the old buildings). I didn’t take too many animal pictures this year, but I couldn’t resist bunnies.

There’s also a new building devoted to more general agricultural information and education, the chief attraction of which is this big machine. I don’t know what this Big Machine does, but those tires are taller than me.
And did you ever wonder how much cut lumber can come out of a single tree trunk? Wonder no more! This display fascinated me.
No, I did not buy this Audrey Hepburn print. I did consider it, but I did not buy it.
I did, though, get one of these NiftyLamps! (That’s not the official name. I don’t actually know what these are called, but they’re cool. You get to pick your shape, size, and colors. I got blue, yellow, and orange.)
We lingered in the horse barns:
And we met the Budweiser Clydesdales!
As well as their tried Dalmatian buddy.
Seeing the Clydesdales in action is always a thrill. They are gorgeous animals.
My favorite part of the Fair each year is the Creative Arts building, which is where all the things made and entered for judging are kept. Painting, sculpture, photography, clothing-making, quilting, the creation of place-settings — it’s all here, and I always spend the most time lingering in this wonderful place. Witness this amazing flower:
And then there was this creation, meant to illustrate the theme of Nik Wallenda’s wirewalk over the Fair:
The judges’ comments are always provided for the public to peruse as well, and I thought that their tone this year was a bit more, shall we say, douchey than usual.
My stock answer to comments like this is, “Wow, somebody open a window, man!”
The most amazing things at the Fair’s Creative Arts building this year were the quilts. Look at some of this work. I am amazed by this stuff!
Those quilts are amazing. This is just a stunning, stunning blend of art and craft.
And so the sun set on the Fair, as it always does, and we left. See you next year, County Fair!
Oh, and my new NiftyLamp? It looks awesome in my library!
It’s groovy, man.

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Something for Thursday

A couple of selection from Jan AP Kaczmarek’s score to Finding Neverland. I’ve loved this score since the film came out, and one thing that I really find cool about it is that it won the Academy Award for Best Score the very year after Howard Shore won it for The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King. So one year you have one of the biggest and greatest epic filmscores ever written get the Oscar, and the very next year, this quiet and contemplative chamber-music score got the honor.

The film came out in 2004, which is a year that has some associations for me, as does this music.

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Answers the Second! (Politics edition)

As usual, I got some political questions this time out, and also as usual, I’m putting them below the fold, so if you don’t want to go down my own personal liberal rabbit-hole, you don’t have to! And remember, if you want to ask something, please do!

Roger asks: Is the problem with the Hobby Lobby SCOTUS decision that it restricted birth control to women, or that it reaffirmed the personhood of corporations?

Both.

The idea that an employer should be able to require his or her employees in any way to abide by their own personal religious views strikes me as deeply odd, and I’m reminded in any event that Hobby Lobby actually did cover the contraceptives to which they “deeply objected” for years, until the Affordable Care Act specified that they had to. Yes, I question the sincerity of their religious beliefs, and I also deeply object to their ill-informed and unscientific view that those particular contraceptives are de facto abortion pills.

Likewise, the fact that their objections only went as far as female contraceptives is pretty telling. I always have a hard time with people who object to contraception on any kind of basis regarding sexual morality, and yet who also seem to have no problem at all with treatments for erectile dysfunction. There’s a weird kind of cognitive dissonance here: we need to be able to help men have sex, but not women, but we also object to men having sex with each other.

Equally bad, though, is the idea that a corporation as a single entity has Constitutional rights. Where does this concept end? Can a corporation “bear arms”, and if so, what would that look like? Can a corporation require every one of its employees to carry (or at least own) a gun? Can a corporation vote? This kind of ruling constitutes a starting move on a path toward what seems to me a deeply flawed manner of thinking. A corporation’s “religious beliefs” is a concept that makes no sense at all — can a corporation be Catholic? How would that corporation take Communion? Does a corporation have a soul? What is so special about a corporation that gives it rights that, say, a club doesn’t have? If a corporation gets bought by a larger corporation, what happens to the smaller corporation’s rights? If Hobby Lobby gets bought by Procter and Gamble, whither Hobby Lobby’s deeply-held religious principles?

I noted an article that said that the US was one only a handful of countries that doesn’t provide maternity leave. Why do you think that is, not just on this narrow issue, but on so many topics from health care to the metric system, that American exceptionalism means that the US takes exception to what everyone else does?

I struggle with this, and I honestly don’t get it. America is the shining beacon, modeling democracy and self-government for all to see across the globe…and yet, we’re told that our government is incompetent and can’t do anything at all right. Well, that’s just embarrassing, isn’t it? Why can France and Germany and every other less-wealthy country on the planet get a lot of these things right?

I simply do not believe, for one second, that these types of things wouldn’t work here. These types of predictions are never true. We don’t lose millions of jobs every time the minimum wage goes up, and yet, every time someone proposes raising the minimum wage, that’s what we’re told will happen. Never does, but we always believe it. National healthcare will be a disaster that will ruin everything…and yet, we have quite literally dozens of other countries as counterexamples. The implication seems to me that they can do something we can’t — and yet, make that suggestion in other regards, and you might as well be questioning the cuteness of puppies.

When so many other nations are doing something different and better than we are, I stop paying any attention at all to people who argue that it can’t work here. Sure, America is different in some key ways, but there is nothing so unique about this country as to make the United States a total and complete outlier to any reasonable expectation based on results elsewhere.

So what’s the deal? Well, frankly, America’s libertarian leanings are holding us back. I find that frustrating, but it’s basically the way it is. I find it deeply saddening that the richest country in the history of the world is so behind the times in so many ways, and when libertarians tell me that a national healthcare system somehow represents a loss of “freedom”, I just shake my head. This is no kind of “freedom” that has any referent point in my mind. I have no idea how a Canadian citizen of similar economic status as myself is “less free” than I am, because he has his country’s healthcare system.

These questions tie together interestingly, because it seems that while we as a country don’t want government doing anything because it somehow infringes on our “freedom”, we are entirely willing to let our corporate bosses encroach on our “freedom” in ways that are more real and more limiting than anything government is trying to do. I, for one, am not interested in a concept of “freedom” where the degree to which one is “free” is directly proportional to one’s socio-economic status or position on the management chain.

OK, that’s all the politics this time out, huzzah!

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A Random Wednesday Conversation Starter

The other day would have been Roberto Clemente’s 80th birthday, and in his honor, the Pittsburgh Pirates groundskeepers mowed his number into right field at PNC Park:

Clemente is the one sports figure whom I would most like to travel back in time and see in action, just once. Who is yours? (Assume you’d get to see yours do something representative of his or her greatness. You wouldn’t be stuck going back to see Babe Ruth go 0-4 with two strikeouts and two week grounders to short.)

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[taps microphone] Hello? Anyone? Test test test check….

Hello, everyone! Welcome to what will be my Official Author Website. I will use this site primarily to interact with the writing world and to get information out about my work as it slowly trickles forth (hopefully!) over the next few years. I will not be abandoning any of my other usual haunts; certainly not Byzantium’s Shores, in which I simply have too much time invested to stop now. This site will focus pretty much exclusively on my books and writing activities.

 

As ever, onward and upward! Zap! Pow!

 

Onward and Upward!

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ForgottenStars.net

The official site of Kelly Sedinger: Reader, writer, photographer, and dreamer

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