Miranda Phipps

I tend to write the same sentence patterns again and again.  I bore myself, and I (will) inevitably bore readers if I keep this up.

Having just turned 37 a couple of weeks ago, I’ve been in sort of an improving state of mind, so I treated myself to a CD course available through the Teaching Company:  “Building Great Sentences: Exploring the Writers Craft” taught by Professor Brooks Langdon of the University of Iowa.  (The Teaching Company has a vast catalogue of courses available in all kinds of academic areas.   Nirvana for my inner geek.  I’m now saving up for one covering the history of the Victorian period.)

I’m a few lectures in and, so far, it’s great.  Professor Langdon’s approach is very academic, but I love the analytical bent because it gives me a framework to evaluate my own sentences.  But I have to say that the most meaningful part so far is his observation that we should “think of a sentence as being a visible piece of writing and the propositions it advances as assumptions and ideas not necessarily written out.”  And, as a further explanation of this point, he states that “[t]he basic unit of writing sentences is the proposition, not the word or even sequence of words.”

This concept that the proposition, i.e., the purpose or idea of the sentence, may be unwritten amazed me.  It’s quite obvious when you think about it, but it’s absolutely true that the unstated propositions are everywhere and that sequencing and word choice give you the ability to manipulate and modify these unstated propositions. 

My takeway from all this is that you have to be aware of the unstated portion of your sentence in order to really be in control of it.  I believe that the proposition is in many cases subconsious, which is why I know a particular sentence just sounds “right.”  But in circumstances where the sentence keeps slipping and sliding away from me, it may be valuable for me to hone in on the unstated proposition and tease out the layer beneath the words.

More on Brooks Langdon anon.

I’m trying to keep my pinky toe in the writing world.  It’s been tough the past few weeks due to work becoming busier again.  (Usually there’s a bit of whining from me when there are more hours than I want, but not these days with many employers letting people go.  I’m glad to be earning my keep–and my weekly paycheck–so I find myself saying yes ma’am, I’ll certainly take that project.)

I did manage to inhale Elizabeth Hoyt’s latest:  To Beguile a Beast.  The bits told in Abby’s point of view were especially well done, I thought. 

I never quite got used to the hero’s singular “eye” looking at the heroine.  Completely accurate of course and very much a product of my own, difficult to break, readerly assumptions.

A lovely cover, too.  Hoyt’s really been lucky in her past few covers–great art and delectable colors.  Some people get worked up about the whole half head thing, but I far prefer to see a victim of the art department’s guillotine than some raggedy mulleted professional wrestler type.

I also dove into Teresa Medeiros latest release.   (Target had so many of my favorite authors at 25% off!  Woot!) 

I somehow missed her last historical (Some Like it Wicked), so my most recent experience with her writing was her venture into vampire-land.  Those were much darker books, and it was fun to be lightly delighted by Medeiros again.  This reminds me that I must now go back and read those vampire books having watched Buffy.  I have a feeling that Adrian (was Adrian the vampire broher?–I think so) may bear some resemblance to Spike, and I’d love to see Spike gain his HEA if only vicariously.

In terms of my own writing, Margie Lawson’s keeping me busy with her many rhetorical devices.  My reward?  Understanding what Neil Gaiman meant when he referred to lilotes in his journal the other day.  Miranda scores!  Now just to use it in my own writing.

2009 promises to be a good year for writing. For one, the global economic meltdown translates into a much lighter workload in my day job. I’m also, at long last and after much physical therapy/working out, in a really good place from a physical standpoint–my back, you see, it had a bit of a meltdown in the summer of 2007.

So here I sit with time and a solid sense of direction for The Keeper, a story I’ve been working on for two years.

Nevertheless, anxiety eats at me while I wonder if I have it in me to finish this book. I’m afraid I’m no good at this and that I should just stick to the day job, which I am good at and which makes money. I’m afraid that even if I do pour myself into this novel and polish it to my sense of perfection, no agent will want to represent it and no one will want to buy it.

Truthfully, I’m not usually this insecure about things in life. I’ve achieved a lot in my career, which is downright stressful and a profession which many people can’t hack. I’m smart, and I know it. I can read craft books and integrate the learning into my writing. I can brainstorm plotlines like nobody’s business. Ideas for romance novels flow through my brain like someone has turned on the firehose. But it’s not enough to give me an innate sense that becoming a writer is something I can achieve. Perhaps the problem is that the stakes really matter on an emotional level for me. I care about being good at my day job, but writing is about being good at something that’s part of my soul. Dangerous territory indeed. We’ll see how it goes.

So I fall in the camp of someone who was diappointed in Twilight the book. And now I guess I’m diappointed in the movie, too, but it suffered from the same flaws as the book, so there’s not much to be done about it.

I loved Meyer’s first-person voice and her ability to recapture high school. That, was by far the strongest part of the book. This article in the Atlantic is right on in my view:

http://www.theatlantic.com/doc/200812/twilight-vampires

My main gripe with Twilight is that there’s no romantic tension.

Girl meets vampire. Vampire and girl fall in love. Bad guy tries to get girl. Vampire saves girl.  The End.

Hello? Where is the step where the girl says, holy f*ck, you’re a vampire? What about the step where the girl makes some attempt to resist falling in love with something that wants to eat her? What does the vampire do to earn the girl’s love? What about the step where the vampire thinks he succeeded but screws up and must win then back affection of the girl?

Maybe I’m just too staid a romance reader with expectations about what I see in the romance genre, but come on aren’t these just basic steps in writing dramatic tension?

So I have this theory that superheroes will be the next big thing in romance. In a way, we already see this with all of the paranormals. I can’t help but believe, though, that the success of the Batman series won’t spill over into romance in the same way we see it in the popularity of Heroes on TV. Time will tell.

I had a number of friends recommend IronMan to me because they liked Robert Downey Jr.’s performance. His performance definitely salvaged that film for me, but in the end the romance-lover in me had a hard time with his near total lack of self-knowledge related to his love for Penny. Maybe he feels that he can’t love her and he has to sleep with all of these hot women who she literally cleans up after for a reason, but I never learned what that reason was aside from guessing that it fulfills some kind of adolescent male fantasy in the same way that the excessive gadgetry of the film did. The other problem being of course that Penny is a total doormat.

Despite having felt a little burned by IronMan, I went ahead and rented The Hulk. (It’s such a nice thing to have total control of the remote while Hubby is out of town.) I had pretty low expectations of the movie given the reviews, but I’m a sucker for all things Ed Norton, so I thought I would give it a try. I also happen to like Liv Tyler. She’s not an acting powerhouse, but her dark-haired femininity appeals to me.

Now after the IronMan experience, I was delighted to learn that The Hulk is really superhero candy for romance lovers (putting aside the whole lack of a perfect HEA, which I was prepared for). I loved how the Hulk’s love for Betty is what allowed us to see the humanity of the monster and the fact that the relationship drove a lot of the action in the film.

The villains, though, they weren’t so great. Why again did Tim Roth want to become a monster? Because he wanted to have a fight with the Hulk who never actually did anything to the Tim Roth character except kick him after that guy went over and demanded of Mr. Green, “Is that all you’ve got”? Come on guys, is that all you’ve got–a villain with no motivation other than a big old chip on his shoulder?

I’m also not going to go into Betty’s whole daddy thing, either. The man’s an idiot on too many levels to merit time on this posting.

I’ve got 8 hours left on my rental–I think I’m going to squeeze in some extra laundry folding this afternoon so I can watch it again.

So I’ve been waiting for the new Batman movie for ages. Like a lot of people.

Today was a good day for hookey, so I took advantage of the lull in lawyerly e-mails to indulge myself.

It was a good movie, but not the movie I wanted to see. Heath Ledger was great. Christian Bale’s Batman remains to die for. I’d been so looking forward to seeing Batman evolve and especially to watching the layers of complexity woven into his relationship with Rachel Dawes (who THANK GOD is now played by Maggie Gyllenhall). But there we have the big letdown. The are spoilers ahead, so stop reading here if you don’t want to know.

You see, Rachel Dawes dies at the Joker’s hands. Batman doesn’t save her. And even worse, Rachel Dawes doesn’t want Batman, she wants Harvey Dent. The worst sin of all, though, is that Batman doesn’t even mourn her.

I struggle to understand why these choices were made. Why can’t Batman’s love for Rachel and the wholly valid reasons which keep them apart be used as a way to develop Batman’s divided personality? I’ve been thinking about this all day. If I figure it out, I’ll let you know.

Neil Gaiman’s journal is full of all sorts of wonderful tidbits all the time, but this week he seems to be talking about writing. I liked this explanation of approaches to second drafts especially.

And then, on the second and subsequent drafts, you do four things. 1) You fix the things that didn’t work as best you can (if you don’t like the climactic Rock City scene in American Gods, trust me, the first draft was so much worse). 2) You reinforce the themes, whether they were there from the beginning or whether they grew like Topsy on the way. You take out the stuff that undercuts those themes. 3) You worry about the title. 4) At some point in the revision process you will probably need to remind yourself that you could keep polishing it infinitely, that perfection is not an attribute of humankind, and really, shouldn’t you get on with the next thing now?

Now, back to work so I can actually put this advice to use.

So I’ve been working hard to be more in the moment and address things as I go. Part of this started for me a couple of weeks ago with a real commitment to working out every day, and I have to stay that I’ve been a total rock star on that front. [Insert screaming, hooting and applause of rock concert proportions here.]

I’ve been trying to incorporate this methodical approach into my day-to-day life generally. Consistent writing time for the WIP remains somewhat elusive, but so far I have been able to get something down either in the form of blogging or writing every day. Posting and incorporating those words into their final resting places is harder, but at list the Alphasmart I am borrowing allows me to get the words on the page. Baby steps I tell myself.

On the house and kid front I’m also trying to be more in the moment. Sam and I had some great rounds of Hungry, Hungry Hippos tonight interspersed with putting the laundry away.

I guess this blog is really just a little note to say, “Bravo, Miranda!”