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Heathcliff on the Moors
Lord Byron (1788-1824)
I recently watched a video on Byronic Heroes. You'll note that Killmonger (Michael B. Jordan) from Black Panther (2018) is included--he's the only black male included on the list. Before I get into my gripe, let's first go over who/what the Byronic Hero is.
The Byronic Hero is a popular character in romantic and gothic literature, named after the famous British poet and author, Lord Byron (Don Juan), who was said to have embodied the very traits that defined these famous characters.
The Byronic Hero is a popular character in romantic and gothic literature, named after the famous British poet and author, Lord Byron (Don Juan), who was said to have embodied the very traits that defined these famous characters.
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In my previous post, I lamented the lack of nuance in everyday society.
Here I am blogging about microagressions--the everyday casualness of racism.
Recently, author Rena Barron on Twitter posted a review of her middle grade story in which the reviewer (clearly white) complimented her book as a good read "for children of African descent."
Imagine the following review--"Harry Potter is a great read for children of European descent." This would never occur. Those with power (people of European heritage) have occupied the position of normal and standard human being and have designated themselves race-less and universal. Their stories are for EVERYONE.
Here I am blogging about microagressions--the everyday casualness of racism.
Recently, author Rena Barron on Twitter posted a review of her middle grade story in which the reviewer (clearly white) complimented her book as a good read "for children of African descent."
Imagine the following review--"Harry Potter is a great read for children of European descent." This would never occur. Those with power (people of European heritage) have occupied the position of normal and standard human being and have designated themselves race-less and universal. Their stories are for EVERYONE.
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Critique groups. sigh. These are hard. Your writing/characters are your babies. Hearing others criticize them can be tough.
More than that. It's the type of the criticism that can hit hard. You can give feedback about prose, long, short, dense sentences, or weak verb usage, sure, but when you criticize the essence of the story or who the protagonist is/represents then that becomes a sore issue.
Lately, I have been dealing with criticism that a character from a story I will dub, P isn't likeable. The protagonist is an ailing woman suffering from an unknown illness who's being given the runaround, and who expresses her frustration with this frequently. I have been told she's not sympathetic. She has demonstrated no BAD behavior, with the exception of snapping at her landlady, a woman who says racially insensitive things--and apparently this makes her not likeable or bitchy.
First, let me say that writing black characters, especially black women, is hard. I don't want to write a *strong black woman, angry black woman, or victim. I also don't want to write a character deemed unworthy of sympathy/love. I have received criticism that this character is one, if not all of these.
I have been quite diplomatic about the criticism, giving everyone the benefit of the doubt about their objectivity, even while pushing to know what exactly about this character makes her unsympathetic and unlikeable.
The responses have been --a) she's snappy with the landlady/bitchy, b) we don't know who she is/she's not relatable, c)she's stupid/incompetent.
Part of me cannot help feel that the repeated criticism that this character isn't likeable has much to do with the difficulty society in general has with sympathizing with black women. That said, I am reluctant to make her a sad victim, since society, and the literary world in particular, thrive on black victimhood. I don't want her to be Patsey from 12 Years A Slave, which I often feel is the only type of black women character deemed sympathetic. I don't want to exploit black trauma.
I mainly write characters put upon by the world they live in (in other words, true to life black people). I write characters who grow into who they are and take what's thrust upon them and turn it into magic and strength.
Another bizarre criticism I received was that I have dehumanized my lead character, making her into a magical non-human--a magic negro. The Magic Negro is a character used in fiction to help alleviate the conflicts and elevate the status of the white protagonist, going so far as to die for the white leads.
This character is set up that way but the moral of the story is that she won't any longer die for anyone's causes. My goal for this particular character is to have her turn her would-be victimhood/magical status into strength and power to help herself. In other words, subvert the plot.
More than that. It's the type of the criticism that can hit hard. You can give feedback about prose, long, short, dense sentences, or weak verb usage, sure, but when you criticize the essence of the story or who the protagonist is/represents then that becomes a sore issue.
Lately, I have been dealing with criticism that a character from a story I will dub, P isn't likeable. The protagonist is an ailing woman suffering from an unknown illness who's being given the runaround, and who expresses her frustration with this frequently. I have been told she's not sympathetic. She has demonstrated no BAD behavior, with the exception of snapping at her landlady, a woman who says racially insensitive things--and apparently this makes her not likeable or bitchy.
First, let me say that writing black characters, especially black women, is hard. I don't want to write a *strong black woman, angry black woman, or victim. I also don't want to write a character deemed unworthy of sympathy/love. I have received criticism that this character is one, if not all of these.
I have been quite diplomatic about the criticism, giving everyone the benefit of the doubt about their objectivity, even while pushing to know what exactly about this character makes her unsympathetic and unlikeable.
The responses have been --a) she's snappy with the landlady/bitchy, b) we don't know who she is/she's not relatable, c)she's stupid/incompetent.
Part of me cannot help feel that the repeated criticism that this character isn't likeable has much to do with the difficulty society in general has with sympathizing with black women. That said, I am reluctant to make her a sad victim, since society, and the literary world in particular, thrive on black victimhood. I don't want her to be Patsey from 12 Years A Slave, which I often feel is the only type of black women character deemed sympathetic. I don't want to exploit black trauma.
I mainly write characters put upon by the world they live in (in other words, true to life black people). I write characters who grow into who they are and take what's thrust upon them and turn it into magic and strength.
Another bizarre criticism I received was that I have dehumanized my lead character, making her into a magical non-human--a magic negro. The Magic Negro is a character used in fiction to help alleviate the conflicts and elevate the status of the white protagonist, going so far as to die for the white leads.
This character is set up that way but the moral of the story is that she won't any longer die for anyone's causes. My goal for this particular character is to have her turn her would-be victimhood/magical status into strength and power to help herself. In other words, subvert the plot.
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What's worse than writer's block?
To quote Bob Dylan--"I have a head full of ideas that are driving me insane."
I know that saying --"if there's a story you want told, then write it," and I have been trying to live by this rule. I like to think of concepts/ideas for stories before I attempt to write them. What's been driving me mad is that I can generate so many "fascinating" storytelling ideas and then draw blank when I sit down to write them.
What's wrong with me and how to fix it?
I have expressed on this blog before that I have little confidence in my execution of ideas (storytelling). I recently tweeted that storytelling is more important than writing; in actuality, an author should aim for both--the best writers know how to do both. Storytelling is more about big ideas-- mindbogglingly reveals, twists, and truths that leave the reader in awe, thinking about the story long after they've finished the book. Writing/being a writer is about structuring and presenting those intricacies of storytelling.
I am a "big ideas" writer, but I drive myself mad trying to figure out how to present those ideas in a logical, compelling and utter engrossing way. Plotting is hard. Timing is hard. Lately, I have been drawn to the free indirect discourse style--the literary narrative. I think of this style as a ramble inside a person's head.
Perhaps my attachment to this style is that it feels authentic--my head is a messy place of ideas and rambles.
But, here comes all the doubts of whether I can do this properly for my next manuscript, which I shall hereby dub, Anac.
Cheers to the new year 2020,
and something me and my mommy can be proud of.
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Been having an epistemological writing crisis lately. I want to quit writing, not because I have run out of ideas, or don't even like it, but because I feel what I have been working on do not have meaning/purpose and isn't good enough.
I want to write stories that make people think and feel. Stories that are effortless in their execution of concepts, ideals and plot.
I have been feeling as if I am not good or intelligent enough of a writer to bring life to the type of stories I care for.
I know that Toni Morrison quote about writing the story you want to read, but what if I am not equipped to do so. 😒😕
I want to write stories that make people think and feel. Stories that are effortless in their execution of concepts, ideals and plot.
I have been feeling as if I am not good or intelligent enough of a writer to bring life to the type of stories I care for.
I know that Toni Morrison quote about writing the story you want to read, but what if I am not equipped to do so. 😒😕
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Yes, that's a bird named Blanks sitting on my computer. And yes, he's real. #invasionofpersonalspace
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I sometimes wonder if I am all talk and no action. I have ideas, sure. But where do they go? How many are realized. Completed a manuscript, sure. But, what's the point if no one sees or reads it?
Over the last year, I have been thinking about the words, purpose and productivity. I have been trying to turn dreams into flesh--to be realized.
I realized that one of my problems is that I am a dilettante. I like ideas more than anything. I dabble in things, but never enough to commit to or become an expert at anything. I am the connoisseur of nothing.
So, one of my writing goals for the non-calendar year 2019-2020 is to commit to something. I have revamped my Wattpad account, and will commit to garnering readership and success. Unlike the past, when I have dabbled and given up.
I will commit to passions. #writersgoal.
Over the last year, I have been thinking about the words, purpose and productivity. I have been trying to turn dreams into flesh--to be realized.
I realized that one of my problems is that I am a dilettante. I like ideas more than anything. I dabble in things, but never enough to commit to or become an expert at anything. I am the connoisseur of nothing.
So, one of my writing goals for the non-calendar year 2019-2020 is to commit to something. I have revamped my Wattpad account, and will commit to garnering readership and success. Unlike the past, when I have dabbled and given up.
I will commit to passions. #writersgoal.
- Published on
Toni Morrison once lamented that her biggest regret as an author was not using her real name so her later father could recognize her success and feel proud.
My biggest regret is not letting my mom in more on my writing. My nature is so insulated that I often live inside my own head, locked down by my own assumptions--what my mom would and wouldn't understand.
In high school, I ran for student body president and lost--one student stopped me in the hall to flat out tell me to my face that she would not vote for me and laughed that I didn't win.
That day I came home feeling small, my mom asked about the student council elections. I remember feeling elated and surprised that she cared. I might have mentioned it in passing, but likely did not expand on my ambitions. I am peculiar, in the sense that my mindset is not always logical, but often very secretive and anxious. I don't reveal my ambitions to others, out of fear that if I fail to achieve my end goal, I'll disappoint them and embarrass myself. But my mom knew, and she comforted me. And I felt better for it.
Looking back, that should've been my wake up call not to keep her and others out of my mind--that she would support me no matter what--that she'd have my back, if no one else. I often lamented that I had no one, and to so some extent, relished in self-styling myself as a loner and recluse. I wish now that I had leaned on her more, let her in more when I had her. Now that it's too late, I watch other women holding their mothers' hands, taking cozy selfies with mom, and I feel shame that I didn't do more of this when she was alive. Now it's too late and I am all apologies and regrets. Even the Toronto Raptors, on the brink of victory in 2019. Her favorite team. I can't recall if I ever invited or suggested we attended a game together.
There was also that part of me that wanted to wait until I was successful to reveal everything to her and show her massive love.
What's this to do with a pen name? Back to ambitions. My fear of embarrassing myself, failing, and being judged. I wanted to use a nom-de-plume to protect my day life from my moonlighting (writing). I was afraid others would find out and laugh or dismiss me -- all of this was/is in my head, of course, a battle I am still fighting.
It's slowly that I am revealing my writing to family and friends. Nonetheless, for years I battled over what to call myself for my creative endeavors. Like Morrison, I'd prefer if my family saw my name and recognized me. But, I have two names. While my first is somewhat militant/rigid (many people disagree), my nickname (what family calls me) is rather nice. I have gotten used to both names over the years--grew to appreciate them.
I have discovered a solution. Though I consider myself a SFF writer, foremost, I still dabble in romance. For the latter, I'd like to be called Kebra (nickname). Even now, putting it out there feels weird. Still, if you go under "TALES" to "Romance", you will find that my self-published romance novels are now under this name. Meanwhile, I keep K.M. (first name and NN, though reversed) for all my SFF work.
So, what do you call me in real life? Either one. I answer to both!
I hope I have found peace at last with the name game.
My biggest regret is not letting my mom in more on my writing. My nature is so insulated that I often live inside my own head, locked down by my own assumptions--what my mom would and wouldn't understand.
In high school, I ran for student body president and lost--one student stopped me in the hall to flat out tell me to my face that she would not vote for me and laughed that I didn't win.
That day I came home feeling small, my mom asked about the student council elections. I remember feeling elated and surprised that she cared. I might have mentioned it in passing, but likely did not expand on my ambitions. I am peculiar, in the sense that my mindset is not always logical, but often very secretive and anxious. I don't reveal my ambitions to others, out of fear that if I fail to achieve my end goal, I'll disappoint them and embarrass myself. But my mom knew, and she comforted me. And I felt better for it.
Looking back, that should've been my wake up call not to keep her and others out of my mind--that she would support me no matter what--that she'd have my back, if no one else. I often lamented that I had no one, and to so some extent, relished in self-styling myself as a loner and recluse. I wish now that I had leaned on her more, let her in more when I had her. Now that it's too late, I watch other women holding their mothers' hands, taking cozy selfies with mom, and I feel shame that I didn't do more of this when she was alive. Now it's too late and I am all apologies and regrets. Even the Toronto Raptors, on the brink of victory in 2019. Her favorite team. I can't recall if I ever invited or suggested we attended a game together.
There was also that part of me that wanted to wait until I was successful to reveal everything to her and show her massive love.
What's this to do with a pen name? Back to ambitions. My fear of embarrassing myself, failing, and being judged. I wanted to use a nom-de-plume to protect my day life from my moonlighting (writing). I was afraid others would find out and laugh or dismiss me -- all of this was/is in my head, of course, a battle I am still fighting.
It's slowly that I am revealing my writing to family and friends. Nonetheless, for years I battled over what to call myself for my creative endeavors. Like Morrison, I'd prefer if my family saw my name and recognized me. But, I have two names. While my first is somewhat militant/rigid (many people disagree), my nickname (what family calls me) is rather nice. I have gotten used to both names over the years--grew to appreciate them.
I have discovered a solution. Though I consider myself a SFF writer, foremost, I still dabble in romance. For the latter, I'd like to be called Kebra (nickname). Even now, putting it out there feels weird. Still, if you go under "TALES" to "Romance", you will find that my self-published romance novels are now under this name. Meanwhile, I keep K.M. (first name and NN, though reversed) for all my SFF work.
So, what do you call me in real life? Either one. I answer to both!
I hope I have found peace at last with the name game.
- Published on
I think too much ... about everything
... will I die alone?
... is the end of the world near?
... when does middle age start?
... am I an impostor?
... will I ever get a traditional publishing deal?
.... am I a real or good writer?
... do I have a good personality?
... am I intelligent?
... do people like me?
... why don't I do something good with my life?
Sometimes my doubts creep up. I want to brush dirt off my shoulders but it's hard.
Staying positive? I cling to little things.
The last couple days I'd been on high thinking I got this ... and I didn't have this (received some great feedback about a short story and was convinced it would be accepted). Received the rejection this morning. I stop investing in things. No longer hold my breath and keep my fingers crossed. I was once accused of not being "passionate." My response (which of course I kept in my head): I am so used to be disappointed I didn't want to run my anxiety up only to be deflated). Of course, I no longer know how to be happy when I receive good news.
Sometimes, I wonder about me ... and where all this is going ...
The rejection says "I kept the reader at bay when it comes to the character's reaction". The story of my life. I am terrible at expressing feelings ... just terrible. I empathize and think, think, ponder, cogitate, worry ... but I just don't express OUTWARDLY.
My characters are criticized for lacking agency, motivation, expressing themselves or simply being plain flat. I love big concepts but don't think I express them clearly.
Been reading about "sociological" writing versus psychological. Supposedly, Game of Thrones lost the plot in season 8 when it abandoned the former for the latter. Ideally, a writer needs both to be good at STORYTELLING.
I try to do both, but ultimately I prefer plot and structure over either but don't do it well.
Sometimes ...
I wonder if I could ever write an intelligent piece of fiction ... NK Jemisin's The Broken Earth trilogy, for example.
Do I have the psychological grasp of the sociological structures that impress upon people to churn out such in-depth storytelling?
I often accuse myself of "tired/lazy" writing ... when I write despite being too tired to care/focus.
Writing criticisms I frequently receive: complicated plots, staccato sentences, wordiness, "elevated" writing style .... which I blame on my general love affair with Jane Austen, Charles Dickens and Shakespeare ... I was a pretentious child, who rather liked saying "I shall" versus, " I will."
Sometimes I wonder why I attend writing groups...
Recently listened to a man rant about his older co-worker whom he believes is just showing up to work because he likes the companionship of his co-workers and having something to do, socially.
. I considered quitting writing groups after my mom died last November. And sometimes, especially after a rejection, I think I should give up writing ....
But I have nothing else.
I am not a cross-stitch, crochet-knitting, sell stuff on e-Bay and Etsy type. I can't learn pottery, and I have yet to show up to my soap-making and kickboxing classes (I am still making promises about better weather and stable finances. My older brother says to just do it).
And what will I do with myself?
Watched sick-flick film with Maisie Williams (Arya Stark): she has another "bucket" list in it.
I don't even think I am the "live like you are dying" type. I'd just mope and sink into my shell, convinced the universe really hates me.
Speaking of the universe ...
Some times I wonder ...
Been listening to a lot of physics podcasts lately ... my dream profession had been Astrophysicist. I got intimidated by high school Enriched Physics and dropped out ... fearing I would fail, anyway.
I regret it ... and not pursuing math beyond the 12th grade.
File on my list of life regrets
... Physics
Master's or PhD
Jeopardy
Better relationship with my mom
Life feels like it's running away .... I want a time-loop do-over until I get it right.
Life's okay ... some times.
But sometimes ...
I wonder.
... will I die alone?
... is the end of the world near?
... when does middle age start?
... am I an impostor?
... will I ever get a traditional publishing deal?
.... am I a real or good writer?
... do I have a good personality?
... am I intelligent?
... do people like me?
... why don't I do something good with my life?
Sometimes my doubts creep up. I want to brush dirt off my shoulders but it's hard.
Staying positive? I cling to little things.
The last couple days I'd been on high thinking I got this ... and I didn't have this (received some great feedback about a short story and was convinced it would be accepted). Received the rejection this morning. I stop investing in things. No longer hold my breath and keep my fingers crossed. I was once accused of not being "passionate." My response (which of course I kept in my head): I am so used to be disappointed I didn't want to run my anxiety up only to be deflated). Of course, I no longer know how to be happy when I receive good news.
Sometimes, I wonder about me ... and where all this is going ...
The rejection says "I kept the reader at bay when it comes to the character's reaction". The story of my life. I am terrible at expressing feelings ... just terrible. I empathize and think, think, ponder, cogitate, worry ... but I just don't express OUTWARDLY.
My characters are criticized for lacking agency, motivation, expressing themselves or simply being plain flat. I love big concepts but don't think I express them clearly.
Been reading about "sociological" writing versus psychological. Supposedly, Game of Thrones lost the plot in season 8 when it abandoned the former for the latter. Ideally, a writer needs both to be good at STORYTELLING.
I try to do both, but ultimately I prefer plot and structure over either but don't do it well.
Sometimes ...
I wonder if I could ever write an intelligent piece of fiction ... NK Jemisin's The Broken Earth trilogy, for example.
Do I have the psychological grasp of the sociological structures that impress upon people to churn out such in-depth storytelling?
I often accuse myself of "tired/lazy" writing ... when I write despite being too tired to care/focus.
Writing criticisms I frequently receive: complicated plots, staccato sentences, wordiness, "elevated" writing style .... which I blame on my general love affair with Jane Austen, Charles Dickens and Shakespeare ... I was a pretentious child, who rather liked saying "I shall" versus, " I will."
Sometimes I wonder why I attend writing groups...
Recently listened to a man rant about his older co-worker whom he believes is just showing up to work because he likes the companionship of his co-workers and having something to do, socially.
. I considered quitting writing groups after my mom died last November. And sometimes, especially after a rejection, I think I should give up writing ....
But I have nothing else.
I am not a cross-stitch, crochet-knitting, sell stuff on e-Bay and Etsy type. I can't learn pottery, and I have yet to show up to my soap-making and kickboxing classes (I am still making promises about better weather and stable finances. My older brother says to just do it).
And what will I do with myself?
Watched sick-flick film with Maisie Williams (Arya Stark): she has another "bucket" list in it.
I don't even think I am the "live like you are dying" type. I'd just mope and sink into my shell, convinced the universe really hates me.
Speaking of the universe ...
Some times I wonder ...
Been listening to a lot of physics podcasts lately ... my dream profession had been Astrophysicist. I got intimidated by high school Enriched Physics and dropped out ... fearing I would fail, anyway.
I regret it ... and not pursuing math beyond the 12th grade.
File on my list of life regrets
... Physics
Master's or PhD
Jeopardy
Better relationship with my mom
Life feels like it's running away .... I want a time-loop do-over until I get it right.
Life's okay ... some times.
But sometimes ...
I wonder.
- Published on
Though he doesn't say it explicitly, author Ted Chiang's acclaimed short story collection, The Story of Your Life has a singular theme---communication (and all its sub-mutations, language, understanding and meaning).
In the opening story, The Tower of Babel, builders climb the famed Biblical monument. In Hell is the Absence of God, a man struggles to interpret God's message; in Division Zero, a woman goes mental trying to figure out a mathematical riddle.
But this post is about the title story, The Story of Your Life (Arrival, 2016) in which a linquist must decipher an alien language to prevent potential conflict.
In the opening story, The Tower of Babel, builders climb the famed Biblical monument. In Hell is the Absence of God, a man struggles to interpret God's message; in Division Zero, a woman goes mental trying to figure out a mathematical riddle.
But this post is about the title story, The Story of Your Life (Arrival, 2016) in which a linquist must decipher an alien language to prevent potential conflict.