What's Elizabeth Reading? ...Leo Tolstoy

Leo himself. Pretty intense beard.

(Note: This post was written less than an hour after finishing Leo Tolstoy's Anna Karenina. My mind was still reeling a bit.)

I have finished reading Anna Karenina and am left feeling overwhelmed by its scope, its ideas and how intertwined it is with other literature I had not previously associated with it.

I almost need to sit down and read it all again for the sake of digestion, but the first run-through took around nine months and I don't know that I want to spend that much more time on it at present. So instead, I did some reading online of others' analyses and am going to use this post to think aloud.

I spent the bulk of this book wondering what it was about. Leo Tolstoy has so many characters and storylines that I could tell he had a message to convey more than a story to tell. Luckily, he took his time getting there and so it felt like a story instead of a philosophy text.

I know, I just said it is lucky it was so long. In his defense, it came out serially. If you get a few bites at a time and don't see the whole feast, you wouldn't be bowled over by it. It was meant to be read slowly.

Tolstoy addresses several themes throughout the book, and many of them would have been easier to understand were I aware of the current events and debates of the time. He wrote this for a contemporary audience and got political with it. Authors these days do it too, but you don't notice because you are living in the same world as that author.

There are some universal themes, however, most notably marriage and the aristocratic lifestyle. By "theme," I mean he is speaking to a topic without any particular message in mind. This book contains a marriage where the woman is cheated on and stays, a marriage where the man is cheated on and stays, a marriage where the spouses separate without divorcing, a new marriage, a marriage with children involved, an unwedded relationship with one child who is neglected, a healthy marriage, a man with a prostitute for a mistress, and others. Tolstoy doesn't say what is best, but he does have his characters reflect on their marriage situation. That is what I mean by theme.

His message, on the other hand, the one that transcends the era and place Tolstoy lived in, is revealed in the final pages of the book. I think I would have understood better had I known the message from the start and been able to read in light of it.

That said, I give you Tolstoy's message.

"Fyodor says that Kirillov lives for his belly. That's comprehensible and rational. All of us as rational beings can't do anything else but live for our belly. And all of a sudden the same Fyodor says that one mustn't live for one's belly, but must live for truth, for God, and at a hint I understand him! And I and millions of men, men who lived ages ago and men living now—peasants, the poor in spirit and the learned, who have thought and written about it, in their obscure words saying the same thing—we are all agreed about this one thing: what we must live for and what is good. ...

Now I say that I know the meaning of my life: 'To live for God, for my soul.'"

Anna Karenina is a book about why. This universal question is the reason that despite the then-contemporary references and exceedingly high page count, it is a classic that is still read today.

You could teach an entire college writing class solely on Anna Karenina, and there is so much of it I don't even know what writing lesson I would pull for you. Here is one, though: If you are trying to be philosophical in your fiction, take your time. If your philosophical idea is good enough, it will be worth the pages it takes to get it across through story.

I've been thinking about musicals

I've been thinking about musicals lately and how they work. Most importantly, is there a written equivalent to a "show tune" in prose?

I did some research and found this great essay by Dr. Larry A. Brown of Lipscomb University (I think). He identified the key characteristics of songs in a musical. My thinking is that maybe if prose writers incorporate these characteristics, they have given their work the equivalent of a song. Maybe? Let's look into it.

"My Fair Lady" - my favorite musical.

1. Story has priority. Dr. Brown suggests that songs are not there to usurp the plot, but to hold it up. In prose writing, or in poetry, you could equate this to not letting your writing get in the way of the story. Flowery writing does this just as much as awkward or confusing writing.

2. Opening numbers establish mood and setting. This translates into "Use your beginning to evoke an atmosphere for your book/poem." There is always a lot of focus on the first sentence, but perhaps we should expand that to the first paragraph, or even the first couple sentences.

3. Collaborators work to achieve smooth transitions from script to music. A lot of the time, it grows naturally from the dialogue that is already there. So in writing, allow emotion to expand dialogue. This can be more than just choosing the words that fit the situation; make the words sound like the emotion. Put assonance and alliteration to work. I'm thinking of Edgar Allen Poe's "The Raven." Read this aloud and see if you can hear the raven:

While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
“’Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door—
Only this and nothing more.”

The consonants give us a hard sound that almost literally taps in "tapping," "rapping" and "muttered." Notice that the last line in this quote has no hard sounds. It sounds sleepy in comparison. Tricks like this can be used in prose just as well as poetry.

This is another favorite of mine.

4. Songs should express the deepest thoughts and feelings of the characters at that moment, using the character's vernacular. Read: Express your characters' deep selves, but in a way they would say it. One of the joys of reading is being able to see the world from another's point of view and to see into that person. Note: Minimalists will say not to be obvious with this like musicals are. Maximalists would argue for drawn-out soliloquies about just how each character is feeling. Find the best middle ground for you.

5. The style of music relates closely to the specific lyrics. I could see this playing into setting--have your description of the setting match the mood you are trying to convey. Don't have it rain because your character is crying, unless they have some sort of weather magic or something, though. That's cheap. Instead, if your character is crying, bring out the grays and blues, focus on the sad memories associated with the props around them, or find some other way to describe things sadly. Give them some sad background music of words. If you want to read a brilliant setting description with emotion in it, read the short story The Legend of Sleepy Hollow.

6. Reprises are often used to show development of character. So put in a reprise. The usual approach to this in stories is to bring the character into the same situation all over again and see how they respond differently. You could also reprise an argument, put in a flashback that shows a difference in perspective, or bring your character into the same setting, one you've largely abandoned (then describe it a bit differently to show the character development).

7. Rather than choreography for its own sake, song and dance should tell a story through music and movement. In essence, make movement count. Why is your character moving? Does it advance the plot? The scene? Their development?

One other thing from Dr. Brown's essay I should mention is that "The addition of music to a standard play heightens emotion, reinforces dramatic action, evokes atmosphere and mood in ways that words alone cannot." Perhaps you should look at your current draft as the play and focus on these functions during a revision, making your next draft the musical version? Just an idea. Either way, try to prove him wrong about the words thing.

For more on musical analysis, if you're interested, check out this website.

Last of the "Writing Tools" notes - endings

Today, we discuss endings in honor of the last of the Writing Tools posts.

Roy Peter Clark notes that everything has an ending; sentences, paragraphs, sections, chapters and of course, books, all have endings. He divides them into types.

Closing the Circle

Poor girl.

This type of ending reminds the reader of the beginning. Country songs love to do this when it comes to sad songs, and in musicals, this is the refrain's job. I personally would have loved it if Frozen had done a refrain of the "I Want to Build a Snowman" song just after Anna sacrificed herself for Elsa. It would have added some nostalgia for their childhood, thus saying she wishes she could undo all those years. Someone put one together on YouTube and it would have worked beautifully in the movie. But oh well.

The Tieback

This is that moment in a story where you remember the seemingly insignificant tidbit the author threw in back in Chapter 4, and suddenly that tidbit is the key to the solution to whatever problem is plaguing the main character. For example, in Harry Potter where you realize that all along, the fact that Harry's eyes looking like his mother's actually means something.

This happens pretty often, especially in mysteries. The key to writing this sort of ending is having the key thrown in nonchalantly enough that your reader doesn't think much of it, but it needs to be memorable enough for them to remember it and get excited when things click for your main character.

The Time Frame

This is when a story ends because the time is up. This type of ending is classically used in coming-of-age stories, using a school year to shape the beginning and end of the book. Another example would be "Tuck Everlasting," which ends when the summer does (unless you count the jump to the future, when the family sees the grave, but that's more of an epilogue).

Since that particular competition, trial or school year had a definite conclusion in sight, that helps to give a time element throughout, increasing tension. Your characters are constantly facing the end. A Time Frame also provides easy closure. Hopefully you've thrown in other plot lines that are ending in other ways, all around that same time.

Not one of my favorites,
but definitely interesting.

The Space Frame

This is like the Time Frame, but instead of finishing something in time, it's when the characters reach the destination. Examples would include "Land Before Time," Life of Pi, and The Odyssey, though that last one does go on a bit longer. Still, his reaching the destination signals the end of his journey.

The Payoff

This is a satisfying ending--a reward, the revelation of a secret, or the solution to a mystery. Sherlock Holmes stories are completely built around this sort of ending. One doesn't read them to find out whether or not he can crack the case; one reads Sherlock Holmes to figure out how, and his debriefing at the end is the payoff.

Surprise and delight your reader if you are going for this type of ending. It's not as good of a read if it's not what you want or you could see it from chapters away, obviously.

The Epilogue

The purpose of an epilogue is to satisfy reader curiosity or set things up for the next book. I'm sure you're totally familiar with what these are, so I'm going to just move on.

Problem and Solution

After all, cats
are clean creatures.

This is self-explanatory. The character was faced with a problem -- How am I ever going to get this house clean before Mom comes home?! -- and the solution signals the end of the book -- Oh, look, a cat did all the cleaning just in time.

Most stories end this way in some form or another, since a conflict is built around a problem and it is resolved with a solution.

The Apt Quote

Essays, speeches and blog posts will end this way relatively often. As for stories, perhaps this translates into finishing off the story with dialogue:

"An' they chased him 'n' never could catch him 'cause they didn't know what he looked like, an' Atticus, when they finally saw him, why he hadn't done any o those things ... Atticus, he was real nice. ..."

"Most people are, Scout, when you finally see them."

He turned out the light and went into Jem's room. He would be there all night, and he would be there when Jem waked up in the morning. (To Kill a Mockingbird, by Harper Lee, final lines)

This is what people use when they want to end with people thinking profound thoughts. I'm sure it can be used, and is used, to also finish with a laugh.

Look to the Future

This is when the author gives a hint of what may happen or when the author points toward the logical consequence of what just happened. It's like when a chick flick ends with a kiss. And almost every chick flick ends with a kiss. Whether you take that to mean they started dating or they got married is your own business.

Mobilize the Reader

This is a call to action, often seen, again, in essays, speeches or opinion articles (Op-eds). Can you do it in a story, too? Yes, especially a nonfiction one. Fiction doesn't tend to have a transparent agenda that makes a call to action an option. However, I did read one fiction book, The Poisonwood Bible, which tried this type of ending.

I hated it (and wrote a post to that effect). The book was great until she threw in her call to action.

The end of my Writing Tools posts. There's a whole lot more in the book, so if you felt like my notes were doing you good, maybe you should pick up a copy. (Name that type of ending!)

"Writing Tools" Notes - Who's on your team?

In Writing Tools, Roy Peter Clark brings up an interesting question: Who is in your writing support group?

He argues that every author has the following:

• a helper who keeps them going
• a helper who understands their idiosyncrasies
• a helper willing to answer their questions
• an expert helper to match the topic
• a helper who runs interference
• a coach who helps figure out what works and what needs work

Here, without their names, are the people who make up my writing support group. I gave it some thought, and though I don't have a support group like this at work, I do in my outside-of-work writing life.

Who keeps me going? I have a friend who writes a lot. Like, she writes thousands of words every day and never seems to run out. While many writers depend on NaNoWriMo for drive, I just have to look at what she's been up to and I get that kick in the rear I need to get writing and finish. The only problem is this friend lives in a different state; I'm sure I would do more writing if she lived in my basement.

Who understands me? My husband may roll his eyes, but he is used to me stopping to take a photo, grabbing his phone to text myself a note, or droning on and on about the book I'm reading and my analysis of it. He's known me since high school and has witnessed or heard about my method-authoring (such as when I had my sister gag me so I could accurately describe how it felt). He's even had himself quoted in my work and recognizes when I borrow pieces of him. He knows it's all inevitable and is supportive.

Who answers my questions? I suppose Google doesn't count? I actually tend to pepper one of my brothers with questions when I am brainstorming how things should work. He can apply logic to abstract thinking, so that makes him a good fit for when I ask questions like, "If you were to kill someone in such a way that you could capture their soul before it left the body, how would you do that?" If he isn't handy, I'll ask whoever is nearest. Be prepared.

What expert do I consult? That depends wholly on the topic, but I return to my Google suggestion. I have a nursing friend I consulted about a science fiction story having to do with anatomy; I asked my physics-minded husband about a science theory question I had for another story; I talked to a former coworker who does archery when I had a technical question to ask about it. I turn to whoever I know who would know the answer. This changes per story and per page, sometimes.

Who runs interference? The idea behind this one is someone who keeps everyone, including myself, from interrupting my writing time. I do not have a person like this and sorely could use one. If you want to apply, let me know.

Who helps me sort out the gems? This would be my sister-in-law right now. She's a reader, not a writer, which means she brings a different perspective to my work. She reads a lot and has good taste, and when she critiques my work, she gives honest feedback, both the positives and the negatives. On top of that, I trust her, which goes a long way in an editing relationship.

I'll end this post with a quote from Writing Tools. Don't undervalue any member of your team, no matter the part they play.

Talk to copy editors. Learn their names. Embrace them as fellow writers and lovers of language. Feed them chocolate.

More "Writing Tools" Notes - Patterns

If I was really cool and planned ahead more, I would have posted this closer to Martin Luther King Day. Oh well.

In Writing Tools, Roy Peter Clark advises writers to build, then break, patterns. He says it adds emphasis to the final element, while linking the whole together. Dr. King gives us a prime example:

From the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire, let freedom ring. From the mighty mountains of New York, let freedom ring. From the mighty Alleghenies of Pennsylvania! Let freedom ring from the snow capped Rockies of Colorado! Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California! But not only there; let freedom ring from the Stone Mountain of Georgia! Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain in Tennessee! Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill in Mississippi. From every mountainside, let freedom ring.

He has a sort of stumbling waltz going on: "Let freedom ring" ends the first two sentences, so you're expecting the third, the trifecta, but no--he gives us half a sentence instead and lets us fill in the blank. Then "let freedom ring" is placed at the start of the sentences, and again, not a third. Another broken trifecta, and in this one he places a clause first, then puts "let freedom ring" in the middle of a sentence. Next two sentences, freedom rings at the start. Then he reprises the first sentence structure to end it with "let freedom ring" at the end of the sentence.

Geez, Dr. King. Way to throw patterns for a loop.

We expect a third to complement two matching elements, because that is the custom. If the third is switched, then, it grabs our attention. For Dr. King, this means he kept his audience's attention throughout the whole. How boring would it have been to have the same sentence structure over and over, yet how less full and triumphant if he had only listed three places total.

Clark says that when it comes to lists:

Use one for power; two for comparison and contrast; three for completeness, wholeness, roundness; and four or more for a list, inventory, compilation and expansion.

One last thing I'll add: The repetition of "let freedom ring" is what keeps the whole thing from shattering to pieces. There is still one common element, even though he is continually switching it up and laying faux patterns left and right.

Clark said repetition of words is good for one other thing besides pounding the word into the audience's brain:

(Hemingway) often repeats key words on a page—table, rock, fish, river, sea—because to find a synonym strains the writer's eyes and the reader's ears.

This is not permission to use the same word in every sentence, but it is permission to not think too hard for a synonym when a simple word will continue to do the work. Here's the thing with simple words: they are less memorable. When you are writing, you want your reader to forget they are reading; if you start doing a thesaurus song and dance, you'll pull them out.

For example: I have used the word "three" or versions of it, seven times in this post. I've said "sentence" ten times, seven times in the paragraph underneath all that ringing freedom alone. I bet you didn't even notice.

What's Elizabeth Reading? ...Thomas Jay Oord

I'm going to interrupt this Writing Tools flow with a writer's book review, partially to shake things up and partially because my article about it was printed last week in the Idaho Press-Tribune.

Thomas Jay Oord is a theology professor at Northwest Nazarene University. Wikipedia calls him the leading theologian on love working today, and his recent book, "The Uncontrolling Love of God," undoubtedly adds to that empire (if we give Wiki the benefit of the doubt). In this book, Oord says God's preeminent attribute is love. God wants the best for everyone, which leads to the problem of evil: Why is there evil in this world if God exists?

This question is what brings many to atheism, and it deserves all the books and thought it gets. Oord's solution, in short, is that there is evil because God simply cannot prevent it. He argues that were an all-loving God able to prevent evil from happening, He would. For more on this and Oord himself, read the article I wrote about him.

Now for how he wrote it: Philosophy and theology is infamous for being difficult to get through. A lot of that is because the writers are stereotypically long-winded, exhaustive in their arguments, prone to jargon, and boring.

Of those traits, I'd only assign one to Oord, that of being exhaustive. In the philosophy world, though, that is the correct way of doing things. People poke holes in your argument if you don't cover every single base in existence. Oord was close to doing this in his book, but he missed a couple by my reckoning. He didn't mention the devil, who I think should have at least been mentioned in a "He is irrelevant" fashion, and he never backed up the main assertion he was standing on, that is, that God's primary attribute is love. He used this as a building block and as a way to discount other theories, yet never gave any reasoning to support the claim.

While his argument may seem strong, it is a stone castle set on a cloud.

This is my main problem with the book. The writing itself is academic, easy to understand, and concise. He pulls the reader along through the first few chapters, which I especially enjoyed, with teasers of what is to come if they only hang on. He introduces examples at the beginning that he then refers back to throughout the entire book, which gave his concept a workable setting.

Please note that these are positive attributes in any sort of writing (maybe not always the academic part, but the rest of it): Write clearly and concisely. Use teasers or other methods to keep your reader going. Set your scene up early.

But don't ignore your foundation, especially when it comes to philosophy or theology. "Because it's what I believe with all my soul" doesn't cut it.

"Writing Tools" Notes - Verbs

What I wrote down: Active verbs move the action and reveal the actors. Passive verbs emphasize the receiver, the victim. The verb "to be" links word and ideas.

As a reminder, active verbs are when the subject is doing the verb. Examples: John threw the ball. The ball hit Alice. Alice knows where John lives.

Passive verbs, on the other hand, give the object of the sentence precedence: The snowball was placed in John's pillowcase by Alice. The pillow was soaked by the snowball.

As for the last part of my note, Clark explained, "A verb that is neither active nor passive is a linking verb, a form of the verb to be." (His italics, not mine.) He says that all verbs are either active, passive, or "to be."

Generally, people discourage passive voice for its wordiness and mellow tone. Writing Tools author Roy Peter Clark doesn't discourage passive voice, though; he says to use it for a purpose. What do you want to emphasize? Usually, it will be the subject, but if it is the receiver, then go for it. Use passive voice.

Read this example Clark used and see if you can pick out the passive and active:

Presently I saw a man leaning on a two-strand barbed-wire fence, the wires fixed not to posts but to crooked tree limbs stuck in the ground. The man wore a dark hat, and jeans and long jacket washed palest blue with lighter places at knees and elbows. His pale eyes were frosted with sun glare and his lips scaly as snakeskin. A .22 rifle leaned against the fence beside him and on the ground lay a little heap of fur and feathers - rabbits and small birds. I pulled up to speak to him, saw his eyes wash over Rocinante, sweep up the details, and then retire into their sockets. And I found I had nothing to say to him ... so we simply brooded at each other (John Steinbeck, Travels with Charley)

There was only one passive sentence, but it was there: "His pale eyes were frosted with sun glare ..." Imagine if Steinbeck had used the active. That sentence would have said, "Sun glare frosted his pale eyes ..." Do you hear the difference? The first sounds lazy to me.

But that's the point, isn't it? He comes across as a lazy, laid-back character, and all that Steinbeck did to make it that way was to make him lean back, not move much, and suffer through a single passive sentence. Without that one passive sentence, he seems much more hostile, mainly because then the emphasis would be on "glare," not "pale eyes" and "frosted."

Another note from the book, while we're on the subject of verbs: A good adverb (those exist?!) changes the meaning of a verb. It does not increase the intensity of what is there. Use the correct verb if possible, but use an adverb if necessary to convey the correct meaning. Examples of adverbs Clark would excuse: smiled sadly, killing me softly, sweetly faked.

Using adverbs is lazy if they are doing unnecessary work (backward, isn't it?). Remember that great quote by Robin Williams' character in The Dead Poets' Society?

So avoid using the word ‘very,’ because it’s lazy. A man is not very tired, he is exhausted. Don’t use very sad, use morose. Language was invented for one reason, boys - to woo women - and, in that endeavor, laziness will not do. It also won’t do in your essays.

Yes, "very" is an adverb.