Author: skzb

I play the drum.

My Feelings About Feelings

Some years ago, I kinda got into it with a few people on Making Light. I still don’t understand what the big deal was–we were only talking about religion and politics; why should that generate any heat?  (WARNING: Irony).

The discussion involved the relationship between the two, and my contention that, ultimately, to be a theist is, in some measure, to support reaction; if not now, then someday.

First of all, can we please not talk about that?  I bring it up only for context.  I might be full of shit on the subject; that isn’t the point right now.

What struck me so hard was when someone said, “I feel personally insulted by your comment.”

My reaction was, and still is, “What the fuck?”

Now, it isn’t as if I find the reaction completely befuddling.  I mean, if someone told me, “because you’re an atheist, you will someday become a child murderer,” I would, I’m sure, feel insulted.  No, what got me is that this person appeared to believe that was an answer.  I was croggled.  I am still croggled.  “Oh, well, you are insulted by my opinion about how the world works, therefore I must be wrong.”  What?  If I find it personally offensive that the speed of a falling body is independent of its speed parallel to the ground (which I do, by the way; it pisses the hell out of me) does that change how we do the calculations?

Sure, sometimes we feel insulted, and sometimes we feel attacked, just by what someone says about how things work. Of course we do; we live in this world, and who we are is innately tied to our understanding of where we fit in the world. Believing, “my religion makes me a better person,” is pretty vital; so it is quite natural that an attack on that will be insulting.  If we reverse that and apply it to me, yeah, sure, I’ll feel insulted.

But that has nothing to do with whether it is true. 

We are either going to share our feelings and try to make sure everyone feels good, or we are going to try to understand how the world works in order to change it.  Of course, there are times when what matters is that the people around you feel warm and accepted as much as possible.  Hanging out with friends, listening to music, many other activities that I love can be destroyed or harmed by an insulting comment at the wrong time.  But in the fight to understand the broader world, it absolutely amazes me that there are people who believe, “I feel insulted by your opinion,” is a reasonable part of the conversation.

The thing is, versions of this seem to be coming up more and more often.  Is it true, for example, that men and women have differences in their brains that, purely on biology, lead them to excel in different sorts of fields? I happen to think that’s a load of horseshit; or, at the very least, no one has ever come close to presenting a convincing argument.  But the answer to it lies in research, in understanding biology, in analyzing test results the way Cordelia Fine did in Delusions of Gender.  True or not, the fact that the position is offensive to women (which I think it is),  is not an answer to the argument.  (Caveat: If someone is taking the above position and claiming it is a defense of women, then pointing out that, in the end, it slanders women is entirely reasonable.  I trust everyone can see the difference).

If we are going to change the world,  if we are going to strike a blow against the oppression of women, then the first thing we need to strive for is the truth.   And whether someone feels insulted just doesn’t enter into it.

Please note that this is not a reference to any particular discussion going on here, or anywhere else. So I hope you don’t feel insulted.

Ultimate, Iron-Clad, Final Rules On Critique Groups

I got an email asking my advice about forming a critique group. I answered, but I’m going to expand on it here, so if I get asked again I can just point.

A couple of things by way of introduction: First, get it out of your head that you need a writers group.  You don’t.  You need to write.  If you get as lucky as I did, you can find a group that helps; but you’re just as likely to find one doesn’t, or is even harmful.   Second, the point of a critique group is not to improve the manuscript (though that is a very nice bonus), it is to train the editor who lives in the back of your head.   If you are very good at revisions, then skip the critique group and just hang out with your friends and drink coffee and scotch and argue about politics and season 6 of “Buffy.”

There, that said, if you do form one, what should it be like?  Fortunately for you, I know the answer.  Herewith, the Exactly Right Way to do it, and no other way will work.  I actually believe that, except that I can point to groups that violate every one of these rules and work just fine.  So, oh well.

And note I’m talking about a group that meets in person; for those of you meeting electronically, I have no idea, but I suspect much of this is different.  So, then, without further ado, here is the Ultimate Truth about writers groups.

1. The correct number of people is 5-7.  Any fewer and you don’t have enough diversity of opinion; any more and it becomes  a pain for everyone to talk.

2. You must respect every member as a writer, a critic, and a person.  That last one is not just something I’m saying because it sounds good; it has immediate, practical value.  Here’s why:  At some point, Jim Douchebag is going to say something about your book that makes you go, “Oh, crap.  He’s right.”  And you’ll fix it, because you have to.  And for the rest of your life, every time you look at that book you’ll go, “Fucking Jim Douchebag has his greasy thumbprint on my beautiful book!”  So don’t go there.  Don’t work with anyone whose greasy thumbprint will upset you.

3. Do not have a leader.  I mean, seriously.  What the fuck?  A leader?  Pfui.

4. None of this read aloud bullshit.  You pass out manuscripts ahead of time, find out when people can get together (another reason for the small number: it’s manageable), and talk about what you’ve read.

5.  None of that artificial crap about how long people get to talk.  First, you go around with general comments–the sort where it doesn’t really apply to any specific moment in the book.  Then you go through it chapter by chapter, page by page, even sentence by sentence if necessary (“My next comment is on page 41.” “I have something on page 38” “Go fish.”).  I’d skip the persnickety copy-editing type details (though it’s nice if someone marks those for you and then hands you the marked-up manuscript after the meeting), but on the other hand, sometimes grammar can be very useful.  In fact, having a grammarian in the group is really, really nice (bless you, Pamela, and bless you again).

6. Mention passages, scenes, sentences that you like.  This is not about stroking the writer’s ego.  It’s because two years from now, when you’re gleefully reading the book that you helped with, and your favorite passage is missing because no one told the writer it was good, you’ll feel like an idiot.

7. Do not be afraid to argue.  I mean, the writer shouldn’t argue, but there’s nothing wrong with strong disagreement among the critics. If someone likes a particular way of handling something, and you thought it sucked, that is a good thing. Argue, and let the writer listen to the argument; the writer will then be able to form a useful opinion, and possibly even pull a general rule out of it.  (General rules and laws about how to write or how not to write are the Big Bonus Prize.  You can’t make them happen, but when they do it’s the big payoff.)

8. The argument (see above)  is over when the writer says it is.  (We use the code-phrase, “Thank you.  I’ll think about it.”)

9. Oh, right. You meet as often as you need to in order to cover as much writing as the group is doing.

I may be adding stuff as people point things out, but in general, there. The final and ultimate truth about writers groups, and anything else is a mistake.

Except that, yeah, well, never mind.

 

Presidential Crime

I was listening to NPR yesterday. They were talking about the information the NSA was collecting on phone records.  In the course of the conversation, there was an offhand remark to the following effect: “Obama is doing the same thing Bush did, although now it may be legal.”

Now, there are a lot of places to go with this. We can discuss whether it actually is legal, and we can chuckle about how, in effect, we’re now in the fourth term of Bush’s presidency.   We can talk about how they skimmed past the “may be.”  But what hit me at once was something different: a journalist casually mentioned that a President of the United States had committed crimes, and then breezily went on to other matters. The fact that the President had committed a crime was treated (correctly) as simply something everyone knew, and at no point was there the least hint there could, would, or should ever be any sort of prosecution for it.

How far have we come?  Think about it.  A major news organization mentions in passing that a President has committed a crime, and it isn’t even worth a pause in the conversation.

Are you angry yet?  Disgusted?  Appalled?  I am.

 

SFWA Bulletin Stuff: All I have are questions

If there’s anyone who doesn’t know what this is about, I envy you and will not provide you with any links. You’re happier not knowing. Smile, nod, and skip this post.

1. Some say that in their column in issue #201, Resnick and Malzberg concentrated on, or at least spent a lot of the time, discussing the attractiveness of certain women in the field.  Others say there was one brief passing mention of one woman being attractive.  I’d very much like to read that column; does anyone know where it can be found on line?

2. I recently came across the claim that some women who were new to the field were intimidated by older, more established writers who can destroy their careers.  Well, on the one hand, this is obviously nonsense: I’ve never heard of an editor who would accept, “This person pissed me off, don’t buy stories from her,” from any writer no matter how “established.”  But on the other hand, might there be the perception that established writers can destroy a new writer’s career? If so, then the intimidation is real, even if the established writers aren’t aware of it (a scary thought yo).  Anyone know how widespread that perception is?

3. R and M made the claim that “anonymous” people were attempting to “censor” them.  I’ve become convinced the anonymous part is just silly; I’ve yet to see a comment without a name attached. And various of us are debating what “censorship” means in different contexts. But what I haven’t seen is anyone who, before issue number #202, said that their column should be pulled, or that they ought not to have been permitted to say what they did in #201.  It is debatable whether, if that was said, it constitutes censorship; but I’d like to know if it was actually said, and, if so, by how many?