Young Adult Books

 We’re all familiar with children’s books and adult fiction, but ‘young adult’ is a category to which I hadn’t given much thought.  But recently, while on holiday inSicily, I stopped into a book shop in Capo d’Orlando to look for an English novel by a good writer.  There are about four book shops in Capo d’Orlando, but I knew that the shop in the main square carried a few English books (about 25) and some German books, as well (about 10).  If that this represents much less than 1% of their stock surprises you, I have to say that less than 1% of the population of Capo d’Orlando speak any English!

I had a browse through the English language books, and one ‘from the bestselling author’ Carlos Ruiz Zafon caught my eye.  The brief write-up on the author said that “Carlos Ruiz Zafon is the author of six novels, including the international phenomenon The Shadow of the Wind and The Angel’s Game.  His work is published in more than forty languages and has been honoured with numerous international awards.  He divides his time betweenBarcelona,Spain andLos Angeles,California.”

The novel I bought was The Midnight Palace – originally published in Spain as a young adult novel, “The Midnight Palace is a haunting story of a secret society and a labyrinthine railway station with a dark past.”

“Murders most foul, chilling crimes and dark deeds” says Vogue.

The story begins inCalcutta,Indiain 1916 when twin orphaned babies, a boy and a girl, are carried to safety by a police officer who is then murdered.  The story continues in 1932 when the orphans have turned sixteen and are released from their orphanages.  Their mission, together with five other released orphans (four boys and a girl) is to find out who killed the parents of the twins.  Sound interesting?  I thought so, and as I read through it, I began to discover what seemed to be some of the elements making up best-selling young adult fiction:

  • The setting should be somewhat extraordinary as to place and time:Calcutta, 1932
  • The main characters should be adolescents: in this case 16 years old
  • Places should be intriguing: in this case a huge old railway station destroyed in a fire and an old tumbledown castle.
  • There should be some major wrongs that need to be put right: lots of murders
  • Plenty of mystery is a good addition, particularly if it takes all the deductive skills of the young orphans to solve it, with very little adult help.

Maybe I’ve become to unimaginative, and too literal in my thinking, but I got two thirds of the way through the book and lost interest.  There was too much in the story that defied credibility:

  • A villain who’s motives and plans are extremely complex
  • A villain who shoots fire from his fingers
  • Lots of supernatural powers
  • A burning, runaway train that keeps running away
  • One person taking over the soul of another
  • And an orphan boy who owns a watch inCalcuttain 1932

I guess to really enjoy this novel, one has to suspend disbelief.

The research I have done suggests that the ‘young adult’ category covers age 12 through 18.  It must be quite difficult to cover this age range with any one novel.  I suspect that writers who specialise in young adult fiction cater to a narrower age group.

There is one piece of young adult fiction that I remember well from my high school days, and that is The Catcher in the Rye by J D Salinger.  It was written in 1951 as an adult novel but has become an adolescent favourite, with 65 million copies sold, in almost all of the major languages.  I read it when I was 16 or 17 when it was required reading in my English class.

The Catcher in the Rye relies on a different set of themes that The Midnight Palace to capture the attention of adolescent readers. 

Briefly, it is a story told in the first person by Holden Caulfield, a 17 year old boy who is attending a military academy inPennsylvania.  He is kicked out of school and spends several days inNew York Cityduring which time he experiments in various ways and tries to understand himself.  Holden Caulfield has become an icon of teenage rebellion.  The novel deals with a number of themes which are important to Holden’s age group: identity, connection, sexuality, alienation and belonging, but I believe that this is a novel that anyone from the age of 15 onwards would find interesting and thought-provoking.

Chapbooks

I had never heard of ‘chapbooks’ until recently.  They were popular, pocket-sized, paper-bound books which preceded the novel and existed from the late 16th century until the middle of the 19th century when they were unable to compete with newspapers and some churches considered them ‘ungodly’.  The form originated in England and Scotland, but similar books were published in the US, as well.  Chapbooks were an important vehicle for the distribution of popular culture, particularly for people living in rural areas.  They provided entertainment, information and (often fictitious) history.  Now, they are valued as records of popular culture, that has not survived in other forms.  Chapbooks were aimed at people without formal libraries, and, in an era when paper was valuable, the paper of old chapbooks was used for wrapping, and even for toilet paper.

The word chapbook is derived from the old English word ce’ap, meaning an itinerant peddler.  The peddler would buy the books, on credit, from publishers which were originally clustered in the London Bridge area of London.  The peddler would travel about, selling the books at markets, fairs and door-to-door.  In the mid 17th century enough chapbooks were printed in one year to account for one English family in three.  They were usually printed on a single sheet of paper and folded to produce a book of up to 24 pages, often with woodcut illustrations that may not have had any relevance to the text.  Reportedly, in most cases the quality of the paper and the printing were very poor.  However, in some cases, chapbooks were long, well printed and historically accurate.  At a time when an agricultural labourer was making 12 pence per day, chapbooks sold for 2 to 6 pence.

The literacy rate in the mid 17th century for English males was about 30%.  This figure rose to 60% a century later.  It seems likely that chapbooks contributed to this rise in literacy, with many working people readers and a few were even writers.  Before the industrial revolution, workers had periods of time available for reading, and chapbooks were read aloud to families, and probably in pubs, as well.

Between 1661 and 1688, Samuel Pepys collected chapbooks.  His collection is kept at Magdalene College, Oxford.  Mr. Pepys devised the following list of subject categories of items published during that time:

  • Devotion & Morality
  • History – true & fabulous
  • Tragedy: murders, executions, & judgements of God
  • State & Times
  • Love – pleasant
  • Love – unpleasant
  • Marriage, Cuckoldry, etc.
  • Sea – love, gallantry & actions
  • Drinking & good fellowship
  • Humour & frollicks

Stories set in a mythical past were popular, as were stories about heroes (rich or poor) triumphing in difficult circumstances.    Robin Hood is featured in chapbooks before he started giving to the poor what he took from the rich.  Ignorant and greedy clergymen were often figures of fun.  Some trades (cobblers, weavers and tailors) whose members were often literate were sometimes the subject of a story.

Today’s novel, while far more sophisticated (in most cases) than chapbooks, owes some of its attributes to the chapbook.  These include entertaining and informing, while historic novels provide historic settings.  But the modern novel goes further: considerably longer, written (mostly) in better English, with more complex characters, interactions and plots. Many novels today are intellectually more challenging than the chapbooks of two centuries ago.

Writing While on Holiday

I’m on holiday in Sicily at the moment.  It is very pleasant to get out of the constant rain of London.  You may have read that, early this year, the water companies in England issued a ‘hose pipe ban’ meaning that no one was allowed to use a hose (for watering the garden, washing the car, etc.).  It was OK to use a watering can or a bucket, but no hose.  The ban was imposed after two years of  ‘exceptional drought’.  Almost as soon as the ban was imposed, it started to rain, and it has been raining almost constantly since!  During one day last week, there was one month’s rain that fell in one region of England.  There has been a lot of flooding, the reservoirs are overflowing, and the ban has been lifted.

I’ve been in Sicily just over a week, and there has been bright sunshine every day.  No rain.  It’s quite hot: 35 degrees C (97 F) during the day and 25 degrees C (79 F) at night, but there’s no need for air conditioning at night.  There’s always a cool breeze.  In my experience Sicily doesn’t experience the 90%+ humidity that the East Coast of the US often gets in summer.  My sister, who lives in Philadelphia, told me on Sunday that she was in for another ‘100 – 100 day’, meaning 100 degrees F and near 100% humidity.

Here the sea is refreshing, and the food is simple but excellent.

My wife and I are here with my older step-daughter and her three children: two boys, 3 1/2 and 2, and a girl 6 months.  They are lovely kids, but a bit of a handful.  So, with the shopping, gardening, general handyman work, swimming, cooking, and playing with the children, I’ve had very little time to write.  I forgot to mention that I’m reading a novel by Susan Sontag (The Volcano Lover) and also working on a needlepoint belt for my son-in-law.  Moreover, when the kids are in the house, it can be quite noisy and distracting.  As a result, during the first week I was here, I did little more than finish the last few pages of a chapter 0f novel no. 5.

But recently, and happily, I’ve found a solution.  The kids have a ‘quiet time’ from 1:30 until 3:30.  They can either sleep or watch videos.  That time gives me an excellent window in which to work: it’s quiet, too hot to be in the sun, and the shops in Sicily are closed from about 1:30 until 4:30.  (Then they re-open until 8.)  Actually, when the children go to the pool at 3:30, I can stay behind for another hour, avoiding the still intense sun, and writing.

So, the last few days I’ve been able to write two pages a day, which is not far off my pace at home, and besides: my objective had been to finish chapter 7 and write chapter 8 while in Sicily.  I think I might be able to do it!

The Writer’s Voice

On Dave Hood’s blog (http://davehood59.wordpress.com), I found an interesting piece about the narrative voice and the writer’s voice.  I quote from it as follows:

“What is the narrative voice? It is the quality of the narrative, whether the story is told in the first-person or the third-person.  It is how the writer chooses to tell the story–casually, seriously, humorously, and so forth. The narrative voice (may) belong to a character within the story, such as the protagonist.  Or when the story is told in the third-person, the narrative voice will belong to an unknown character, someone who is not a participant in the story.

The narrative voice is an extension of the writer’s voice. The writer’s voice consists of many elements, including style and tone. But the writer’s (voice) is created by many other factors, such as socioeconomic background, education, belief system, values, writing experience, and so forth.

How does the aspiring writer acquire his/her own voice? It takes time to create a voice. It begins by developing an original style. From style, the writer needs to write and gain experience. Over time, the writer’s voice emerges. It is a process.

To help develop a unique voice, the aspiring writer can do the following:

  1. Learn to write well. Learn the rules of grammar, spelling, and punctuation. And then learn when to break these rules.
  2. Expand his/her vocabulary. The writer must use the dictionary to learn the meaning of unfamiliar words. The writer should also use a thesaurus to find similar words with different shades of meaning.
  3. Read widely and deeply. The writer ought to read fiction by the great writers. The writer also needs to read nonfiction, like biographies, and person essays. By doing this, the writer can learn how the masters constructed memorable fiction.
  4. Analyze the styles of great writers, such as Charles Dickens, Ernest Hemingway, and George Orwell. Analysis teaches the writer how to create setting, plot, characters, and use other literary devices.
  5. Experiment with different writing styles, such as word choice and syntax. Only through practice and experience will the aspiring writer develop a unique style.
  6. Learn the element of fiction and use them. (Plot, setting, character, conflict, and so forth.)
  7. Learn the literary techniques and use them. (Imagery, symbolism, allusion, and figures of speech, such as simile, metaphor, and personification.)
  8. Make writing a lifestyle choice. The aspiring writer must write every day. Only by writing on a regular basis will the writer develop his/her unique voice.
  9. Write in a way that comes naturally. The writer needs to use words and phrases that are his/her own. Imitation is (not) acceptable.
  10. The writer also needs to place himself/herself in the background. To do this, the writer needs to write in a way that draws the reader to the sense and style of the writing, rather than to the tone and temper of the writer.
  11.  Avoid using a breezy manner. The breezy style is a work of an egocentric, the writer who imagines that everything that comes to mind is of interest and ought to be written on the page. Instead, the writer needs to make every word count, each word should move the story forward, and each word needs to have a purpose.”

I think that all of this is good advice, except for number 10, above.  I am currently writing a fictional biography (not autobiographical) in the first person.  The principal character is I, Henry Lawson.  Am I Henry Lawson?  No, but, inevitably, I the writer, will influence the character of Henry Lawson.

I very much agree with number 11, above: “make every word count, each word should move the story forward, and each word should have a purpose”.

Rules for Writers

The Guardian newspaper (in the UK) ran a feature in which they asked ‘some of the most esteemed contemporary authors’  for the ten golden rules they bring to their writing practice.  Here are some of the rules with which I agree or disagree, the name of the author, and my reasons:

Agree:

  • “When I’m deep inside a story, ­living it as I write, I honestly don’t know what will happen. I try not to dictate it, not to play God.”  (Michael Morpurgo).  For me this works very well, and the key is to ‘live it as I write’.  The result, I believe, is a more genuine product.
  • “The writing life is essentially one of solitary confinement – if you can’t deal with this you needn’t apply.”  (Will Self)  This is self-evidently quite true.
  • “Respect the way characters may change once they’ve got 50 pages of life in them. Revisit your plan at this stage and see whether certain things have to be altered to take account of these changes.”  (Rose Tremain).  This is good advice.  A character may change for reasons that haven’t yet been made clear.  I think it’s important to recognise this, go back and add the clarifications.
  • “In the planning stage of a book, don’t plan the ending. It has to be earned by all that will go before it.”  (Rose Tremain)  When I have formed a vague plan as to the ending, I find that there is a far better one that arrives by evolution.
  • “Hold the reader’s attention. (This is likely to work better if you can hold your own.) But you don’t know who the reader is, so it’s like shooting fish with a slingshot in the dark. What ­fascinates A will bore the pants off B.”  (Margaret Atwood)  This is  very important, and I agree that the best test is whether what I’ve written holds my own attention.
  • ” If you’re using a computer, always safeguard new text with a ­memory stick.”  (Margaret Atwood)  This may seem like a trivial point, but before I started doing this I would – for various reasons – lose several hour’s work.  Now, I religiously click on the ‘Save As’ button to send it to my memory stick, as well as my hard disc.
  • “Read like mad. But try to do it analytically – which can be hard, because the better and more compelling a novel is, the less conscious you will be of its devices. It’s worth trying to figure those devices out, however: they might come in useful in your own work. I find watching films also instructive. Nearly every modern Hollywood blockbuster is hopelessly long and baggy. Trying to visualise the much better films they would have been with a few radical cuts is a great exercise in the art of story-telling. ”  (Sarah Waters)  This makes a lot of sense to me.  I like to watch good films critically thinking, ‘how could this be  improved?’  Spotting ‘compelling devices’ and making use of them in one’s own work is also good advice.

Disagree:

  • “Work on a computer that is disconnected from the internet.”  (Zadie Smith)  This makes no sense to me.  Why would a writer want to deprive himself of a really useful tool?  I use the internet, for example, to find the names and locations of real places, to discover ethnic habits and customs, to find out how a character would get from place A to place B (if it’s important).  The reason I do this is to make my fiction as realistic as possible.  One has to be careful not to get distracted, but once I find the information I’m seeking, I return immediately to the writing.
  • “Never use a verb other than “said” to carry dialogue. The line of dialogue belongs to the character; the verb is the writer sticking his nose in. But “said” is far less intrusive than “grumbled”, “gasped”, “cautioned”, “lied”. I once noticed Mary McCarthy ending a line of dialogue with “she asseverated” and had to stop reading and go to the dictionary.  (Elmore Leonard)  For me, the repetition of the verb ‘said’ would  be  boring.  The writer has to stick her nose in; after all, it’s her story.  Use of a different verb, other than ‘said’, can characterise the feelings of the speaker.
  • “Never use an adverb to modify the verb “said” . . . he admonished gravely. To use an adverb this way (or almost any way) is a mortal sin. The writer is now exposing himself in earnest, using a word that distracts and can interrupt the rhythm of the exchange. I have a character in one of my books tell how she used to write historical romances “full of rape and adverbs”.”  (Elmore Leonard)  I tend to agree that it is best not to mix ‘said’ with and adverb; it is better to select a more expressive verb.  (See the comment above.)  But I don’t agree that the use of adverbs is a mortal sin.  Adverbs are part of the English language (and every other language, as far as I know).  Sometimes – not often, but sometimes – the best available verb on its own doesn’t adequately express the situation.  Then, I’ll use an adverb.
  • “Don’t go into great detail describing places and things, unless you’re ­Margaret Atwood and can paint scenes with language. You don’t want descriptions that bring the action, the flow of the story, to a standstill.”  (Elmore Leonard)  I agree with the point about not bringing the flow of a story to a standstill.  But I will often begin a new scene – before any action takes place – to life with a brief, clear description.  I think it’s sometimes important to prompt the reader’s imagination. 

The Novelist as Psychologist?

The short, imprecise answer is that a novelist is also a psychologist, assuming that s/he is writing about human characters (or characters with human characteristics).

The definition of a psychologist, according to my dictionary is “a person who has (knowledge of) and is qualified in the study of the mind and behaviour.”  This seems like a pretty broad definition.  In fact, the American Psychological Association has 56 divisions in its membership.  The one respect in which most novelists would not be considered psychologists is in the word ‘qualified’.  Very few of us have a degree (particularly the required advanced degree) in psychology.  But that doesn’t prevent us (and most of our fellow human beings) from acting as psychologists.  Hands up! those of us who have never given advice to a friend or family member on how to handle a troublesome acquaintance/colleague/friend/lover/family member.

There are generally considered to be two categories of psychologists: applied and research.  Researchers use scientific methods to learn more about the functioning of the human mind.  Since a novel is, by definition, fictional, it is not suitable for the scientific method.  This would seem to disqualify novelists from being amateur research psychologists.  However, there may be some of my colleagues who believe that they have discovered, and have published, an interesting parameter of human behaviour.

If we consider the applied category, it seems that there are two sub-categories here: teachers (those who pass on to others their knowledge of psychology) and practitioners (those who ‘work with patients in a variety of therapeutic contexts’).  To me, it seems doubtful that many novelists write with the purpose of giving insight and relief to troubled individuals.  However, for example, a troubled reader may recognise himself as Josef K. in Franz Kafka’s The Trial, and he may draw some useful conclusions from that recognition.

So, for me, novelists if they are amateur psychologists at all, fall into the ‘applied’ category, not exactly as teachers but as practitioners who provide us with insights of the human mind and character.  Wikipedia points out that psychologists explore such concepts as personality, the workings of the mind, emotion, motivation, interpersonal relationships, cognition, perception and the unconscious.  Novelists also work with these concepts to create characters and situations which may enlighten us, but mostly they entertain us.

Women & Sex

The Daily Telegraph reported yesterday on remarks made by the author, Martin Amis, at the Hay Festival.  The Telegraph said, “With his penchant for pot-stirring statements about feminism, Martin Amis earned a reputation as a misogynist.  Now the author has declared that women make better writers – at least when it comes to sex.  Female writers are more ‘sincere’ about expressing emotion, Amis said.”

The Telegraph quoted Amis as saying: “Let me venture a distinction between men’s writing and women’s writing.  There is a difference between real sincerity and literary sincerity. . . I would say there’s a bit more song in women’s writing, there’s more real sincerity in women’s writing.  And before I tiptoe away from this, I’d say the reason why women write better about sex – which is almost impossible to write about and no one has done it very well, ever – is that as a novelist you are in a God-like relation to what you create.  You are omnipotent and the question of potency is embarrassing for men.  It is the great hidden weakness in men, that potency can fail, and it’s not something that troubles women.  They have a lot else to worry about, but not that.  So once a man is writing a sex scene he’s feeling omnipotent, and he’s forgotten about all those fiascos and no-shows.  But women don’t and they write better about it.”

I think that Amis has several fairly valid points here.  The first is the writer assumes an omnipotent relationship to the novel he is creating.  S/he alone creates it.  The second point is that the subject of potency is potentially embarrassing for men – but not for women.  It seems to me that this is true for biological and psychological reasons.  It follows that male writers in their omnipotent state do not like writing about failed sexual experiences.  As I reflect on the sexual scenes I have written, there are only two where the male performs unsatisfactorily.  In Sin & Contrition there is the honeymoon scene involving Bettina and her new husband.  And there is the wedding night scene involving a 15 year old Afghan boy and his 23 year old wife in my fourth novel which is not yet published.

I think I understand what Amis is trying to say about ‘real sincerity’ in women’s writing.  I think he means that, in general, women are more in touch with their feelings than men are.  But I don’t believe that this is universally true.  I think it is true that, in general, a woman’s emotional response to a given situation is likely to be more loving and forgiving than a man’s.  But again, it is not universally true.

I think that the sincerity of women’s writing about sex has more to do with the whole spectrum of emotions of the relationship.  Men’s sincerity is more about excitement, illicitness, eroticism and conquest.

Perhaps we should learn from each other if we are able to write about it ‘very well’.

Passion

I’m not talking about romantic passion now.  I’m talking about the passion an author has to have for his novel.  It really is essential!

About a year and a half, I started writing a novel which struck me as a good idea.  When I got about 30% of the way through it, a friend who had been reading it said, “it’s boring!”  The wind went completely out of my sails and I set aside the work I had completed.  I wrote another novel in the meantime, and when I finished that one, I decided to have another look at the ‘boring’ one.  My friend was right; it was boring.  But, I felt that the ideas behind the book were good.  I had just executed them poorly: without passion.  So, I set to work again: reorganising, clarifying, deleting and adding material.  I think it will turn out well if I maintain my current level of passion.  Passion for what? you might ask.  I think that in a good novel, the author has passion for three elements: a character or characters, the story, and the message.  Passion for a character means that the author really knows him or her, and really wants him or her to come alive for the rest of the world to see.  Passion for the story means that the author loves the idea of his story, and wants to tell it in such a way that the reader will be captivated by it.  Passion for the message means that the author feels strongly about the meaning he’s trying to convey to the reader.

I think it’s fair to say that not all novels have all three elements.  Many novels lack a messages or an ultimate meaning, but all novels have character(s) and a story.

Let me give you some examples:

Here is Bettina, the  character most readers love to hate, being interviewed by me at the end of Sin & Contrition.  She’s self-centered and very narrow-minded:

William:  Tell me about Franciska and Fredek.  (her children)

Bettina:  Well, Franciska is a successful modern artist, as you know.  I don’t understand her paintings, but some people apparently do, and are willing to pay good money for them.  She’s moved to a larger, more comfortable apartment in the Village, but she still has her art studio.

William:  Is she still living with Florence Donovan?

Bettina: (sharply)  What do you mean?

William:  Well, Franciska’s gay, isn’t she? . . . There’s nothing wrong with it, of course.

Bettina:  What do you mean there’s nothing wrong with it?  There’s plenty wrong with it, and the Bible forbids it!  (This from a woman who renounced her Catholicism to join a ‘more fashionable church’)

William:  As I understand it, being gay isn’t a choice that people make.  It’s just their . . . nature.

Bettina:  That’s ridiculous!  Of course people make a choice about their sexuality!  And no daughter of mine would ever choose to have sex with another woman!  It would be disgusting!

William:  OK, Bettina.  So Franciska’s doing well?

Bettina:  Yes!

William:  And how about Fredek?

Bettina:  Haven’t you heard?  He’s a smash hit!  He’s now playing Billy Flynn in Chicago.

William:  That’s wonderful!  And does he have a girl friend?

Bettina:  Of course!  He’s been going with Mary Anne for several years now.

William:  When you say ‘going with’, you mean they’re living together?

Bettina: (hesitantly and softly)  I suppose so.

William:  As far as I know, the Bible doesn’t approve of sex outside of marriage.

Bettina: (leaning forward and glaring at me)  Are you implying that I apply a double standard to my children?

William:  I didn’t say so.

Bettina:  Yes, but that’s what you meant!  (sitting back and considering me)  Well, not all sins are equal.  Fredek will get married some day soon, and, in my opinion, sex between a man and a woman is OK.  It’s sex between two men or two women that’s the problem.

Here’s an example of story-telling from Fishing in Foreign Seas.  (John, Jamie’s brother, is celebrating his election to the US House of Representatives.  He is on crutches because his leg, which had bone cancer, has been amputated.  John’s girlfriend, Michele, a nurse, had left him because he would remind her too painfully of a one-legged uncle who had abused her.  Caterina, Jamie’s wife, had tried to convince Michele that John was not her uncle.)

Jamie saw her first, and he nudged Caterina.  From across the room, a solitary figure in a blue and white striped uniform and wearing white pointed cap was slowly approaching John.  Her demeanor was reserved yet determined.  It was Michele.  She stood slightly behind him and to his left, waiting patiently for him to notice her.  The two men to whom John was talking kept glancing at her until John turned to see who they were looking at. 

“Oh, Michele . . . “ he said.  The two men moved away.

“Congratulations, John,” she said, nervously clasping and unclasping her hands.  “You did very well!”

He said eagerly: “It’s great to see you, Michele.”

At that, she dissolved and the tears started.  “Oh, John, I’ve been so stupid. . . . So very stupid.  . . . . Will you forgive me?”  She stood looking at him, her cap slightly awry, dark streaks of mascara on her cheeks, her hands at her sides and an expression of pure sorrow on her face.  John leaned forward on his crutches and embraced her.

“I’m so sorry, John, I’m so sorry!” she said softly.

“I love you, Michele!”

She began to weep in earnest: “I don’t know why. . . . I don’t deserve it.”

He led her to the far side of the room where they sat talking.  Elena, overcome with curiosity, wandered nearby, pretending not to listen.

“Elena!” Caterina called.  Reluctantly, she obeyed her mother and came to the table.

“What are they talking about, Mommy?”

“That’s none of our business, Sweetheart.”

After a time, Michele came to the table and put her hand on Caterina’s shoulder.  Caterina stood and looked at her with a gentle smile: “Your face is a mess, Michele.  Let me . . .”
Michele interrupted, embracing her: “I don’t care . . . “  She looked earnestly at Caterina: “We’re getting married. . . and . . I want to thank you . . . for making me think.”

And here is the principal message from Sin & Contrition:  (Ellen and Gene are two principal characters; they’re adult children are Elisa, studying for the ministry, and Joey, an engineer.)

“But, Mom,” Elisa wanted to follow up on her mother’s last statement, “Why not?  If you’ve been going to church so long, why aren’t you a ‘true believer’?”

Ellen considered this, her head on one side.  “I don’t know.  I guess something has never really clicked for me.  I think to myself: this is such a good story! but then I think: but what if this was all made up by some religious people centuries ago?

Joey said: “I think what it is, Mom, is that you and I tend to be sceptical about things, and we like hard facts.  That’s why I like engineering and you like designing clothes.  Whereas, Elisa, and Dad are not as rigorous with facts: Elisa likes religion, and Dad tells stories on TV!”

“Joey!” Ellen was shocked, “Your father does not ‘tell stories on TV’!  He gives people factual news!”

Joey cringed in mock apology.  “Just kidding, Mom!”

Gene said, “Well, I think Joey has a point.  I think it’s probably true that some people are more disposed to suspend disbelief and take things on faith.”

“It’s not just a matter of taking things on faith, Dad,” Elisa said, “Two religious scholars, Kreeft and Tacelli, recently compiled a list of twenty arguments for the existence of God.

Joey said: “Give me an example.”

“Well, many of them involve complicated concepts in logic,” Elisa replied, “There is the Argument from Efficient Causality, which basically says that everything is the result of some cause, and if we trace far enough back the chain of cause and effect we will come to an Uncaused Being which has to be God.  And there is the Argument from Degrees of Perfection, which says that something is always better than something else in some sense.  Again, if we trace the stages of ‘betterness’, we will come to the Perfection of All Perfections, which is God.”

“Sorry, Elisa,” Ellen interjected, “I can’t get my head around that stuff!  If God is real, why can’t He just tell us, ‘here I am guys!’?”

“Mom,” Elisa replied, “Do you believe in free will?  That is do you believe that we, as human beings are able to choose the path we want to take?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“OK.  Well, if God were to say ‘here I am guys!’ free will would be gone!”

“Why?”

“Because, if we knew, for sure that God is there watching us, and if we knew – as we would – what he was expecting of us, and if we knew pretty well – as we would – what would happen to us if we didn’t meet His expectations, do you think any sane person would not choose the right path?  There wouldn’t be any options.”

Ellen leaned forward.  “So, are you saying that God gave us free will, and we’re here as a kind of a test?”

“I don’t know.  But it is a possibility.”

For more about my novels, see www.williampeace.net.

E-books

In May of last year, Amazon announced that it sold more e-books than printed books.  Specifically, it said that it was selling 105 e-books for every 100 printed versions.  Moreover, Amazon sold 8 million Kindles last year.  That amounted to 5% of its book sales.  Amazon is estimated to have a 58% share of the US e-book market.  (Barnes & Noble has 27%; Apple 9% and others 6%.)

Interestingly, in the UK, 92 our of every 100 books is a printed version.

But, clearly, the e-book is becoming very important indeed.

From an author’s perspective, one has to publish in e-book format as well as in the  printed version.  If only a printed version is available, one can lose out on sales.  When Fishing in Foreign Seas was first published in a hard back, printed version in 2009, I didn’t see the need for an e-book version.  E-books were available then, but not such a big chunk of the market.  So, earlier this month, I’ve changed my mind and the e-book version of Fishing in Foreign Seas is available.  Sin & Contrition (published last year) is available in electronic and printed versions, and I expect my future novels will be available in both versions.

The royalties for an author on an e-book are typically in the range of $1 -$2 per copy.  For a printed version royalties can be about 3 – 4 times as much.  When one looks at it that way, e-books are not so attractive for an author.  But international sales of e-book titles are considerably higher than printed titles: shipping is next to nothing for an e-book sold overseas.  I also wonder whether it isn’t easier to make the decision to buy an e-book than to buy a printed copy.  Generally, a printed book will cost about twice as much as an e-book, when shipping is  included.  So, I’m inclined to think that when a serious reader is shopping, s/he will buy 2-3 e-books instead of 1-2 printed books.  And if s/he decides s/he doesn’t like the e-book, s/he’ll just delete it.  (Instantaneous recycling!)

Some of the advantages of e-books are:

  • they take up a negligible amount of space
  • they are readable in low light or even total darkness
  • text-to-speech software will mean that the book can be read aloud
  • there is the possibility of translation, via software, into another language
  • printing of e-books does not consume paper and ink
  • additional software permits searching the text, and looking up definitions

Some of the advantages of printed books are:

  • they have the traditional, comforting feel of a real book
  • they are tangible and easy to give as a present
  • books with large pictures (such as childrens’ books) are more suitable in a printed version
  • because of data rights management it may not be legal to sell or lend an e-book to a third party
  • the content of a printed book may be taken more seriously, while there may be a temptation to skim an e-book or to use it for reference material

A few days ago, it was reported in the British press that Waterstones (the UK equivalent of Barnes & Noble) had signed an “e-book deal with ‘devil’ Amazon”!  The deal is that Waterstones will sell Amazon Kindles in their shops, and permit their customers to purchase e-books in their stores via WIFI.  This made news because, unlike Barnes & Noble, Waterstones had no ability to sell e-books.  2000 bookstores in the UK have closed in the past 6 years, but that trend has nothing to do with e-books.  It’s to do with the Internet being the perfect place to shop for books.

The Novelist as Historian?

Can a novelist also be an historian?  There are plenty of historical novels published every year, and some of them are very popular.  Some of them may even be quite accurate in representing the events, the culture, lifestyle, technology, and even the key personalities of the subject time frame.

I very much enjoyed reading the Sharpe series of novels by Bernard Cornwell.  Richard Sharpe was a fictional soldier, then an officer, in the British Army from about 1790 to 1810.  The novels follow his progress from raw recruit (his mother was a woman of easy virtue in East London) until he is a lieutenant colonel at the  Battle of Waterloo.  He overcomes many obstacles (military, romantic and social) on and off the battlefields in India, Portugal, Spain, France and Belgium.  I didn’t read the novels as history, although the descriptions of the battles are said to be very accurate, and that Cornwell carefully researched his material.  What I enjoyed about the novels were Sharpe’s talent for surviving  in difficult situations and Cornwell’s array of good and bad characters.

I also enjoyed the Aubrey-Maturin series of novels by Patrick O’Brien.  Captain Jack Aubrey had command of a Royal Navy ship during the Napoleonic Wars, and Stephen Maturin was the ship’s surgeon and Aubrey’s good friend.  The 2003 film Master and Commander: the Far Side of the  World  with Russell Crowe as Captain Aubrey drew material from several of O’Brien’s novels.  Most of these novels reached the New York Times best seller list, and were acclaimed internationally.  Again, I didn’t read these novels for their historic content; I enjoyed reading how Aubrey and Maturin would triumph in the face of adversity.  My impression is that the descriptions of life aboard Royal Navy ships in 1800 is quite accurate as far as it goes.  Winston Churchill once described shipboard life at the time as “rum, sodomy and the lash”.  There was undoubtedly more to it than that brief, brutal summary.  O’Brien does mention the daily (and coveted) ration of grog (rum) issued to the crew, and there are several passages dealing with floggings (which neither Aubrey nor O’Brien, apparently, liked.)  But sodomy is never mentioned, and it must have been prevalent among all male crews from poor, illiterate backgrounds who were cooped up on board ship for years at a time.  In fact, the scene which O’Brien paints is of a very hard but somewhat romantic life.  That’s fair enough; would we be anxious to read about the true brutality of the life?  For example, falls from the rigging were quite common on sailing men of war.  The consequences of such falls were usually severe if the sailor landed on the deck below, and almost always fatal if he fell into the water: rescuing a man overboard was not the norm.

As an author, I have occasionally inserted historic material into my novels.  For example, there are LaMarr’s tours of Vietnam and Somalia as an enlisted man and an officer in Sin & Contrition.  But these passages are not intended to be read as history, but rather as the setting for events in the life of a character.

On the Institute of Historical Research website there is this commentary:

“The relationship between academic history and historical fiction is a subject of great interest to historians. Major academic conferences . . . have included papers and sessions on the subject, and they are proving among the most lively and well attended. There are numerous examples of historians who have successfully moved into the sphere of fiction, and conversely of authors whose fiction is underpinned by rigorous research. The large and growing public interest in history in Britain takes in both historical fact and historical fiction. And it is clear that many historians were at least in part inspired to pursue historical research by novels that they had read, or indeed are currently either planning to write or are writing their own works of fiction.”

It goes on to raise the following questions:

  • “Why have historical novels become ‘respectable’, and why anecdotally are historians being encouraged to write them?
  • What is the difference between historical fiction and academic history, and how rigid are the boundaries between the two?
  • How good are readers at differentiating between ‘fact’ and ‘fiction’ and how much does it matter if they don’t?
  • Does the success of historical fiction benefit or threaten academic history, and what can literary authors and academics learn from each other?”

Perhaps I am a purist, but I believe it is very important to distinguish fact from fiction.  Some of the most egregious examples of fiction parading as fact are the history text books for children in communist states.  These text books of ‘history’ inflate the government’s successes, and, if they deal with failings of the state at all, the picture is rosy and sugar-coated.  How are we (and, more particularly our children) to learn right from wrong if we are intentionally told lies with a smiling face?