The RSS of alerts on my online content from FairShare usually stays pretty quiet. Even when another site uses my content and a new alert is generated, 99% of the time a link back to my blog accompanies the post. Even then, the post isn’t a full copy but a summary and a link. I have no problem with this, as I license my content under a Creative Commons copyright.
For those of you who aren’t familiar, here’s a 3-step process on how a blogger can protect the words she writes from being plagiarized or stolen.
1st: a blogger visits the Creative Commons website and picks which type of copyright she wants. I’ve chosen the copyright that allows other people to re-post my content, as long as they link back to me or give me credit and they don’t use my work to make money. They can’t sell my work or use it to sell other things, even if they do link back to me.
2nd: the blogger downloads the graphic and puts it on every page of her blog. Mine looks like this:
3rd: the blogger uses various web applications to send alerts via RSS or email whenever her content shows up somewhere on the Internet. I use FairShare to look after all my content and Google alerts to look after various keywords, including my name and blog name. When someone uses my content, those alerts will fire me an RSS update or an email, respectively.
That’s the basic way to keep track of where your work ends up online.
When I get an alert, I immediately investigate. If everything looks OK and within the terms of the Creative Commons copyright, I leave it be. About 99% of the alerts fall within what’s called “Fair Use.” In other words, the other site that borrows my content links back to my blog, giving me credit, and the site isn’t covered in ads or selling any products.
Today I started my RSS reader and found an alert from FairShare that was in that 1%.
FairShare showed me the site New and Used Books, where my review of NurtureShock by Po Bronson and Ashley Merryman was listed under the ad for the book. I was not credited. The full review was posted, not a partial clip. There was no link back to the Amazon site where I had posted my review, there was no link back to my blog. No link at all. And they were using my review (albeit a non-favorable one) to sell the book.
This is when I send a “cease & desist” letter. Basically, a cease & desist is a letter that says, “Please link to me or remove this content immediately. You are violating my copyright.” In other words, somebody owes me money or credit, and if you don’t delete my content from your site, you must pay me.
NewandUsedbooks is still violating my copyright because they are using my words to sell a book, but even that I could let go if they just linked to me or to my Amazon review (which links to my blog).
Here is my email to Newandusedbooks.com. It is a typical cease & desist email that I write:
“You have used my content and are violating copyright. Please either remove my book review or give me the link credit to my blog. You have taken the online reviews from Amazon.com but have not linked to that either. I will be forwarding a copy of this message to Amazon.com.
Here is the link to your page where you violate my copyright:
http://newandusedbooks.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=zmore&manu=Twelve&prodGroup=Book&item_ASIN=0446504122&author=Po%20Bronson&SubscriptionId=0JN0QHH0QAG4YVY4FY02
Here are the first few phrases of my review:
‘Conservative agenda by non-scientists.: (2009-09-20)
New York Magazine journalists Po Bronson and Ashley Merryman team up to add commentary and more information to their articles in this new book published by Twelve, a division of the Hachette Book Group.
The last page of the book has this blurb about Twelve:’
I expect this situation to be resolved by Wednesday, Sept. 30, 2009 by 2:00 p.m. Eastern Standard Time (GMT – 5).
Thank you.
Christine Cavalier
christine@purplecar.net”
Today is Sunday. I didn’t expect a quick response, but a few minutes later I received this email from newandusedbooks.com:
“Dear Ms. Cavalier,
New and Previously Owned Books is an Amazon affiliate. We have not “copied” anything from Amazon rather as an Amazon affiliate and by contract with Amazon, we receive by automatic “download” the books, book covers, reviews, prices, availability, etc. directly from Amazon. We do not select what reviews to post on any given book – they are downloaded from Amazon. We cannot control what Amazon puts on their site and we cannot add to their descriptions and cannot add a link to your blog within their downloaded review.
I hope this explains where the information is coming from and alleviates your concerns.
Vickie Denney
www.ReaderToReader.com”
I wrote back immediately, but have yet to hear a response:
“Dear M. Denney,
Thank you for writing with a prompt reply.
Does your server refresh the pages often? If we remove our content from Amazon, can we conclude that it will then be removed from your site?
-Christine Cavalier
christine@purplecar.net”
Then I went and deleted all 4 of the reviews I posted to Amazon.com, despite the reviews’ good ratings and conversations they generated.
Newandusedbooks.com passed the buck to Amazon, saying that the catalog content they lease from Amazon isn’t controlled by them (or their seemingly parent company readertoreader.com). Does Amazon strip the links before they sell the content? Or does newandusedbooks.com strip the links when they post the Amazon catalog content to their site? The response I received didn’t answer these questions, and I don’t think my follow-up email will get much of a response, either.
I don’t need to pour over Amazon’s Terms of Service. I can already guess that Amazon has standard legalese that states they own the content of all reader reviews on their site. I proceeded to delete all my reviews and decided that the few links back to my profile or blog aren’t worth it. My stats never showed very many links back to my blog from Amazon, and I don’t need to spend time building up a “reputation” on Amazon as a good reviewer.
I know, I know. I’ve been blogging since 2004, I should’ve known better. I was thinking it was an even trade-off for the potential in new blog readership. I didn’t think Amazon would sell my content without at least a link back to the original content on its own site.
This is one of those situations that critics Andrew Keen, @AmandaChapel, et al., cite when they bemoan the current practice of online retailers using free content by amateurs. Readers write free reviews on Amazon and Amazon sells them along with their catalog content to book selling sites. The Publisher’s Weekly reviews are also on Amazon, but Amazon doesn’t lease out that content because Publisher’s Weekly tells Amazon they must pay for that work. The lone avid reader/blogger has no team of lawyers looking after them like that. Amazon and other sites take advantage of readers’ want for connection, or fame, or whatever misguided motivations and sell their very-marketable, worthy content for their own profit.
What do you think of this? Has this happened to you? Do you use copyright protection on your work? Let me know in the comments.
As for me, I say, “Bye-Bye, Amazon.” Now I’m going over to Goodreads.com to see if their revenue model is based on members’ free reviews.
New York Magazine journalists Po Bronson and Ashley Merryman team up to add commentary and more information to their articles in this new book published by Twelve, a division of the Hachette Book Group.
The last page of the book has this blurb about Twelve:
“TWELVE was established in August 2005 with the objective of publishing no more than one book per month. We strive to publish the singular book, by authors who have a unique perspective and compelling authority.”
They lost me at “compelling authority.”
Po Bronson and Ashley Merryman are journalists, not scientists. This book isn’t a synthesis of research; it’s an opinion piece with a conservative bent (indeed, Ashley Merryman’s back-flap bio boasts that she “lives in Los Angeles, where she runs a church-based tutoring program for inner-city children.”)
I’m not advocating gatekeeping; there’s definitely a place for independent research and grass-roots efforts. Child Psychology isn’t one of those places. NutureShock is just another parenting book in a long line of books written by reporters for profit. The authors have a reputation for reporting on overlooked studies with rare results, as they boast in their chapter notes that their New York Magazine articles were popular. Compiling and expounding on past work seems to be the best way to write a book these days; this doesn’t mean that the articles, as a book, make a cohesive or worthy statement.
Basically, I found the book to be the amateur, armchair science that is fun to read in small bites while on the train. Read it for entertainment purposes, but don’t implement the few approaches outlined at home; they aren’t tested enough, and the results have yet to be repeated to gain respect in academia.
The book does, unwittingly, bring up some good points about statistics, studies, and systemic judgments based on those studies. Statistics and study results are nothing to respect when presented alone. The best way to make decisions about anything is to weigh multiple instances of evidence, to never rely on one event. The authors do their best to rip up school district decisions on testing, anti-obesity and anti-bullying programs, by claiming these decisions were not based on scientific results but just made using traditional thought and instinct. While some programs in districts may be made more based on hope than science, the majority of IQ testing and other educational programs are based on years of study and a large meta-analysis of results of hundreds of studies. To suggest otherwise, as the authors do, is hasty, irresponsible, and insulting to educational scholars, teachers, and parents.
The authors proceed to cite a study here, a successful preschool program there, to illustrate their point that decisions about children should be based on evidence. I agree. But A LOT of evidence. Not an anecdotal story or two (which the authors provide), nor 1 or 2 labs that keep getting the same results for their handful of articles. The authors bemoan the lack of long-term studies in almost every chapter, yet fail to mention the very sophisticated and accurate methods of behavioral statistics answers this issue. They sing praises of a preschool program called Tools of the Mind, but conveniently forget to list the challenges associated with the program. This book is a thinly disguised attempt to steer the conversation toward a conservative agenda in education.
The writing is ok. Their lack of academic tone in parts is jarring. For example, on page 190, the authors use colloquial language where they shouldn’t have:
“… a separate word to distinguish the kind of popular teen who diminishes others –in Dutch, for instance, the idiomatic expression popie-jopie refers to teens who are bitchy, slutty, cocky, loud and arrogant.”
An academic article would have used words like “promiscuous,” “disagreeable,” and “condescending,” especially since the Dutch don’t use the English colloquial words that are listed. I also question the choice of listing the derogatory words for females first, or at all.
At times the authors conduct their own “studies,” but we should disregard these results. We have no idea what the sampling was, what the control group was given (if there even was a control group), or how the study was designed at all. Until their results can be repeated many times, then one-off studies should merely bring up ideas for further study.
The only good that comes out NutureShock is the reminder to hold studies, especially those recounted by non-scientist media, in suspicion. If you are planning to pick up this book, read it for entertainment purposes only. It may make you think a bit differently in some aspects of child-rearing, like how your teen may see arguing as the opposite of lying, or how we whites actively avoid talking about race. The authors should have stayed with reflecting trends in traditional parenting, and avoided passing themselves off as authorities.
Elsewhere, U.S.A.: How We Got from the Company Man, Family Dinners, and the Affluent Society to the Home Office, BlackBerry Moms, and Economic Anxietyby Dalton Conley [Pantheon Books, New York 2008]
Hear ye, you wordsmiths of the web, you purveyors of pages, you iterators of information: Welcome to Elsewhere, U.S.A., a state of mind in which you are constantly moving; You are slinging nothing but ideas and giving up your leisure time to do it; You are working from home but are always available to the company via your Blackberry (which you are using to schedule your babysitters and manage your children); You hold the fear of the layoff or of lost earnings if you dare close your laptop long enough to have a McMeal with your family; You love your loft space or your recently-converted suburban bedroom/home office, until, of course, you get a look at your neighbors’, after which you shall work more feverishly than ever to stave off the envy and hopefully get that promotion or new account that will allow you, too, to put in the latest in soundproofing technology and remote-control window shades. Your very personality is being pulled apart by millions of messages. Welcome to Elsewhere, that constant state of motion and distraction that takes you anywhere and everywhere but here.
Dalton Conley, NYU sociologist, sounds the welcoming bell to you and me, the Weberati. We can do our jobs from anywhere with a decent internet connection. We work in information and produce ideas for a living. If we work for a manufacturer of actual physical products, we work far from the production line, most likely never experiencing a factory even on a training tour. We are today’s middle-class, white-collar worker. We work from home, we take our laptop on vacation, and we answer emails on our iPhones during the time-outs of our kid’s basketball game. We have this idea that if we just “get one more thing done” before bed, that our hours are well-spent, that our everlasting souls will be cleaned by hard work and that God will shower us with prosperity.
This latest book from prolific writer and academic researcher Conley traces the history behind the combination of work and leisure (“weisure”). Conley starts out the book unflinchingly nostalgic for the good ol’ days, when loyal IBM-ers were admired for their willingness to sing company songs and wear ties, as long as they had their nights and weekends free to play bridge and golf. Conley waxes on a bit about how leisure time was actually once meant for relaxation, instead of the multi-tasking work space it is today (I personally found this nostalgia to be a bit contrite, as Conley and I are both members of Generation X and only experienced those so-called halcyon days via our parents’ memories.)
Leisure and work are becoming mixed, says Conley, as companies like Google increasingly become one-stop shops for their employees. There is on-site laundry, showers, meals (which are free at Google, something Conley was amazed by), doctors, nurses, tax accountants and sometimes daycare. Practically any service the company can help you outsource will be available to you so you can spend more time working. You can “work from home” to spend more time with your kids, but your kids say you won’t look up from the laptop, and your co-workers can hear Rock Band II in the background of your conference call. Meanwhile, you notice your neighbor that holds the same job you do but for another company, has a new Mercedes in her driveway and you wonder how she earns twice your salary. You work harder and longer, ticking away any hours you aren’t working as lost income. You get so used to this state of always looking at the next thing you must do/have/say/be, you never look inward. You get splintered into many different roles, shattering your one individual into what Conley calls an “intravidual.” Nostalgia aside, Dalton has a point.
Still, even though I know Conley was addressing me and my fellow techie folk, I couldn’t help but be a bit offended by the characterization. The term “Blackberry Mom,” [cover/title, pg 1] is as offensive and marginalizing as “Soccer Mom,” and it should’ve tipped me off on the tone of the book. If you are in my Weberati crowd, you will probably be offended on page 56 when Conley calls open-source software “communism” without noting how open-source actually spurred innovation in the private sector. You’ll also probably (well, hopefully) be offended on page 73 when he treats the modern norm of working women and their influence on the workplace with this line: “You can take the woman out of the kitchen but you can’t take the kitchen out of the woman.” That’s really the only media bait in the book, though.
The book reads like a textbook, but the it deserves the effort just on the amount of information it contains. The Appendix alone, with its collection of intriguingly titled articles, is a fair exchange for the purchase price. Unfortunately, Dalton takes a while to get to his main point. The long introduction lays down loads of social history to set up the story. The first 62 pages lay thick groundwork for his theory of what is happening with the state of the working person today. He goes through American social history, namely the social changes brought on by the industrial revolution, and emphasizes the occasional example to demonstrate how our work/life balance and our politics have changed, like the dwindling participation in unions over the last 50 years.
The author’s purpose of the book isn’t found until page 63:
“WHERE WE ARE AT
So, we have gone from a country with high ceilings and fans to low ceilings and air-conditioning; we have gone from an economy where many workers serviced one machine to one in which each American has dozens of machines working for them over the course of a given day; we have gone from being a nation of wandering renters to ever more tooted homeowners; we have gone from a country that experienced race riots in the 1960s–during a period of economic growth spread relatively equally across income deciles–to a country of almost Third World levels of economic inequality, where solid majorities vote to repeal the estate tax. We used to enjoy our free time and left the Europeans to work more than us; now we have more kids to take care of than they do, even as we work significantly more hours.*
No one single factor–not air-conditioning or computers; not female labor force participation; not tax policy alone or immigration–has caused these dramatic shifts. In fact, it is probably a futile exercise to ask how much tax policy drove the development of computers, how much computers drive income inequality, and how much income inequality drives commuting distances. Better to take a deep breath and unfocus the eyes to try to take in the entire mosaic that makes up the social landscape of today.
*Americans work an average of 25.1 hours per week (averaged across all working-age persons) in contrast to Germans, for instance, who average 18.6 hours, We work over 6 more weeks than the French per year. See Alberto ALessina, Edward L. Glaeser, and Bruce Sacerdote, ‘Work and Leisure in the U.S. And Europe: Why So Different?’ Working Paper no 11278, National Bureau of Economic Research, Cambridge, Mass., 2005.”
I wish those two paragraphs and the citation were on page 1; they would’ve helped me parse out Conley’s academic prose. Although I appreciate the book being chock-full of information, as I read I kept wondering when he’d reveal his point.
Conley does get to his point, eventually, but at times his logic seemed a bit dubious. I was taken aback on page 56 when Conley cited a 2005 study, using the results as a base for his claim that most people still work for the same company for over 20 years. This may be true for the Baby Boomers, but not for any of us under 40 right now. I’m in my 30’s and I don’t know anyone who has worked for any 1 company in their careers, not even my friends who are medical doctors. We are consistently told by career advisors that after 5 years we should be looking for another opportunity, lest we appear habitual, lazy, and unwilling to learn. We believe that the retirement age will be raised to 75, there will be no social security pensions, and we will have worked at so many different companies and had so many varied careers that we will have lost count. Looking at Conley’s one-company-for-20-years claim in detail, the facts become clear. The study, cited from Working Paper #11878 from the National Bureau of Economic Research (where Conley holds a Research Associate position), looked at retirement age workers (ages 58-62) in 1969, and found that they had worked, on average, for one company for 21.9 years. The study then compared their 58-62 years old counterparts in 2002, and found that they had worked, on average, for one company for 21.4 years. Conley claims that despite our hectic schedules and our 24/7 mobile offices, we’re still all working for the same company, just like the IBM Man in 1950. When we, the GenXers, get to be 58-62, my guess is that number will drop from 21.4 to about 10.6. I’d like to see a similar study of people who are 42 years of age right now and see how many different places they’ve worked. Then I’d like to see the same data on people aged 32 today. 21.4 years at one company is a pipe dream for the average Generation Xer. Conley’s choice to cite this study to support his everything-old-is-new-again-but-we-work-more-than-the-IBMer-of-1950 was misleading at best. This slight massaging of statistics is common practice for academics, economists and media members alike, so it’s difficult to make a case against Conley for doing it. There are infinite ways of massaging statistics and relegating the details of data to footnotes in order to support your point, so when numbers are involved, caveat emptor.
Despite the nostalgia and the numbers games, Elsewhere U.S.A. and Professor Conley earn respect. Conley’s points about materialism and the ever-increasing gap between the classes are a sharp slap upside our credit-busting heads. Conley is, plain and simple, one of us, and he keeps us well informed of the changes in our lives that we are too busy to notice. Although Conley avoids Twitter, he knows the scene. He references some books that are well-known in the social media circles I run in (e.g., Anderson’s The Long Tail) and knows the pressures we face in an outsourcing, all-consuming workplace. He’s just as guilty as the rest of us, but he’s a sane voice in the fog of our all-too-modern, fast-motion lives.
As a continuation of my previous post on Happiness, I’ll talk a little bit about Positive Psychology (PP) and the lessons we can learn, as writers, from this emerging field (perhaps in a way you might not predict, though.)
In 1998, the American Psychological Association’s then-president, Martin Seligman, used the term “Positive Psychology” to describe a new trend in Psychology research: the study of how humans become and stay happy. Dr. Seligman was tired of mental illness being the sole purpose of Psychology research and practice; He wanted Psychology to study more of what makes and keeps people happy instead of only mending the sick. PP has been the trending topic in Psych since then. Graduate students are clamoring to study topics like resiliency, decision-making, sense of control, character strength and uplifting traits. Journals publish more and more studies about the effects of “learned optimism.” Books like Stumbling on Happiness by Dan Gilbert are topping New York Times’ bestseller lists.
Like with all emerging fields, PP has its critics. The biggest and strongest critique of PP is that the field isn’t regulated. Any person can stick the term “Positive Psychologist” on the end of their name and claim to know how to apply the concepts that certified scientists and counselors developed. This means that every “life coach” kook is all over the Web promoting themselves as a “PP Counselor,” and no law or national certification program is barring them from doing so.
Another critique that is of lesser strength but more relevant to us as writers is the type of personality PP seems to attract. Those kooks on the internet and late-night infomercials are the most slimy of the bunch, but from an outsider’s view it does seem that the PP people have drunk the kool-aid. PP people are very gung-ho and tend to be exuberant evangelists for the field. The majority of them are do-gooders at heart; they want people to be happy and they think they’ve found science that can help.
Do you know a person like that? A person who stresses the positive so adamantly that it becomes unbelievable or in the very least, annoying? Your answer to this question will probably have more to do with your own place on the cynical scale than with the PP-type you’re remembering, but nonetheless let’s take a look at that character more closely. This person isn’t a snake-oil salesman; they are what I call a Believer. For reasons they usually aren’t too familiar with themselves, Believers truly feel that their solution is the answer to many people’s problems. How does a first encounter with a person like this go? What are you thinking? What would by-standers think as they listened to your conversation?
One thing about people who are enthusiastic about life is that they are usually magnetic. They light up a room, they are always surrounded by a crowd. People naturally gravitate toward other people who are happy and seem in control. But what happens when you get close enough to see that they are just trying a tiny bit too hard to be legitimate? What if the consistency or substance isn’t there? How does that character keep up the charade? How do you see it? How, if there is truly no substance, do you as a reader discover it? Will it be in the Believer’s frayed pant leg or missing button? Will it be in the quick glance down she makes after every human encounter? Just like the emerging field of PP, every character must have cracks in the armor. Even the Truest-Happiest-Believer-of-All-Things-Positive has a ding in the shield. What is it? Does the critique of that person’s belief-system hold water? Could the character make a journey over time to mend the damage?
You need both positive and negative forces in opposing characters for your novel or work of fiction to be memorable. Chart which side, positive or negative, your character will fall on. No middle ground. You can make a sliding scale (using a common measurement tactic from Psychology), but you still must divide the scale into two halves. The scale can have two of any extremes (e.g. Grape Jelly Fan vs Strawberry Jelly Fan), but you need to put each of your characters on that spectrum.
If PP had its way with your characters, they would test them on a variety of scales to diagnose current states and predict future behaviors. PP would look at self-efficacy (which is like “agency” – the ability and belief that one can accomplish tasks and goals on their own), resiliency (the ability to bounce back from trauma) and perhaps even sense of humor and daily laughter rates. The science behind PP is the same as a lot of Personality, Developmental, and Behavioral Psychology, they are just choosing to measure different traits. As writers, we tend to go into the dark sides of characters; It’s almost easier to write drama than it is to write pleasantries. But having no happy characters, or people who are optimists that promote achievement and satisfaction in others, isn’t giving your novel the opportunity for some significant conflicts.
I recently received a comment about the lack of commas in my writing. This is just a quick post to say that my comma decisions are deliberately made. I choose a flowing style when I can; this means I forgo putting commas in common places.
In the 1700’s, commas were much more common. Those writers dropped commas in places you didn’t realize existed. Eventually, the pauses were dropped in favor of a smoother style. We English writers will use fewer commas as time goes on. My general rule is to first think of eliminating ambiguity, then concentrate on the flow of the piece (flow is a very close second, though). Writing is meant to convey information and emotion. If you’re sure you are impressing people with the unambiguous meaning of your words, then make sure the tone of the work leaves the right impression as well. You want the reader to walk away with a feeling in their gut that comes from information in their head (and yes, I know I used “their” there, instead of “he” or “she.” That’s another post topic I’ll approach someday).
Here are some different areas around the web I visited today that talk about comma usage.
***Wacko Wednesdays: Each Wednesday, I’ll outline a human quirk or phenomenon in the study of Personality Psychology, or perhaps talk about a specific type of research into personality. I’ll provide information, links, and my own experiences to help you along in your goals of writing memorable characters.***
Writers don’t write about mothers much. I was at a writing conference where the speaker asked the audience to call out something they’d read that examined the mother-child relationship. No-one spoke up. The speaker had made her point. The mother/child relationship is very complex and close to the heart. Even Disney likes to kill off moms so they don’t have to deal with trying to navigate those murky-mommy-issues waters. Fathers, on the other hand, abound in fiction. Father’s Day is this Sunday. Because we know all psychosis comes from our parents (not!), for today’s Wacko Wednesdays, let’s talk about at writing about the father/child relationship, or writing a character as a father.
For decades, psych research focused on the mother’s parenting as pathology for mental illness in children. More and more, researchers are looking at the father’s influence (especially with the area of girls and eating disorders). The father’s attitudes and behaviors toward parenting would influence your main character (MC). The father’s raising of your MC will probably all be backstory that happens offstage (i.e. not in the novel), but it is perhaps the most important character detail that fuels your MC’s current motivations. Let’s take a look at how some psych research examines how a father’s behaviors influence his children.
In the book, “The Role of the Father in Child Development” (.pdf of intro here), Editor Michael E. Lamb outlines the 3 areas that many researchers concentrate on when researching the father/child relationship: Engagement, Accessibility,andResponsibility.
“Whether and how much time fathers spend with their children are questions at the heart of much research conducted over the past three decades. In the mid-1970s a number of investigators sought to describe—often by detailed observation and sometimes also through detailed maternal and paternal reports—the extent of paternal interactions with children (Pleck & Masciadrelli, this volume; Lamb & Lewis, this volume). Many of these researchers have framed their research around the three types of paternal involvement (engagement, accessibility, responsibility) described by Lamb, Pleck, Charnov, and Levine (1987). As Pleck and Masciadrelli note, researchers have consistently shown that fathers spend much less time with their children than do mothers. In two-parent families in which mothers are unemployed, fathers spend about one-fourth as much time as mothers in direct interaction or engagement with their children, and about a third as much time being accessible to their children. Many fathers assume essentially no responsibility (as defined by participation in key decisions, availability at short notice, involvement in the care of sick children, management and selection of alternative child care, etc.) for their children’s care or rearing, however, and the small subgroup of fathers who assume high degrees of responsibility has not been studied extensively. Average levels of paternal responsibility have increased over time, albeit slowly, and there appear to be small but continuing increases over time in average levels of all types of paternal involvement.”
Engagement, Accessibility and Responsibility are the three things you can think about when forming your character.
Engagement: How “hands-on” was your MC’s father when she was small? Was he a good guy but had a job that took him away often? Did he just seem like he was yelling everytime he spoke to his kids, but he was just trying to encourage them?
Accessibility: Could your MC bring any question under the sun to her dad or was she relegated to communicating with him through his secretary? Did he send the MC off to boarding school and say “See ya at Christmas?” Was there always a DO NOT DISTURB sign on his door, but he was very attentive at dinner time?
Responsibility: Did your MC’s father support his family well? Was he a good earner but a fierce disciplinarian? Was he a drinker but loved his family with all his heart? Was he a drifter that constantly told his kids to reach for the stars?
Look for ways you can build in contradictions in each of these areas, then think about how a kid would reconcile those inconsistencies. How we judge people is a lot of our character. A father’s personality greatly influences our sense of judgment. In flat characterizations, fathers are either no-good bums or unsung heroes, drinking louses or quiet loyalists. Usually a main character (MC) comes to acknowledge the father’s cheating ways or learns to appreciate the constant wisdom that they couldn’t recognize before. It’s all so cheesy and cheap. Try to go for some more depth. What kind of roles does the father character in your book play? What kind of parent is he? Is he a stand-offish, everyone-has-to-learn-for-themselves kind of guy or is he a soccer dad that is with his kids every step of the way? How can he be both? What generation is he in? Is he a 70-year-old but a modern diaper-changing/sling-wearing dad? Was he raised to think he’d let the kids grow up before he had any kind of relationship with them, even though he’s just 20 years old?
Take those three aspects of measuring fatherhood, Engagement, Accessibility and Responsibility, and mix and match good and bad characteristics of each. Make the father character a conflicted, true-hearted, complicated being that marked your MC with distinctive world views. Happy Father’s Day, to all of those dads out there!
***After a long hiatus, Wacko Wednesdays are back! Each Wednesday, I’ll outline a human quirk or phenomenon in the study of Personality Psychology. I’ll provide information, links, and my own experiences to help you along in your goals of writing memorable characters.***
“We hold these Truths to be self-evident, that all Men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.” -United States Declaration of Independence, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, July 4th 1776.
Happy Muffin!
Happiness research has taken the Psychology world by storm. If you search any book site for the word “Happiness,” you will see a plethora of books written on the subject. Lately I’ve been reading Stumbling on Happiness by Daniel Gilbert. It’s academic research and theory about attaining happiness and how our judgment about what will make us happy in the future is ridiculously skewed by our present thinking.
This book and the advent of other titles in the positive psychology area have inspired me to think about how we, as writers, paint the picture of our characters’ states of happiness. By looking at your MC and her goals in terms of her motivations and methods of attaining happiness, you can paint a deeper picture of what drives us all.
I’m sure you are familiar with the basic story arc: Main character (MC) starts out with a status quo, then challenges galore are thrown at the MC, lots of roadblocks stand in the way of achieving the new happiness goal, MC overcomes, is a changed person. The end. Today for Wacko Wednesdays I’ll run down two phenomena that researchers, namely David Myers, have identified as influencing a person’s happiness, namely Relative Deprivation and Adaptation.
Phenomenon #1: Relative Deprivation
“when we compare ourselves with those less fortunate, we can, however, increase our satisfaction. As comparing ourselves with those better-off creates envy, so comparing ourselves with those less well-off boosts contentment.” -David Myers
Lately I’ve been reading A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, a classic piece of American literature that portrays a devastatingly poor family and their survival struggles in 1900’s New York. It’s actually making me feel quite good.
Yes I know that sounds bad. But here it is: My husband, my two kids and I live in the smallest house in our neighborhood. We live on my husband’s salary as I’m a full-time mom, but we truly have more than enough. Still, this suburban life and the American consumerism gets to everybody. We are inundated with ads to buy more stuff, we read stories of neighbors’ huge home improvements, we hear kids describing their African safari vacations. It’s an affluent area and it seems, at times, that we aren’t keeping up with the Joneses.
The unfortunate Nolan family portrayed in A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, truly has nothing. When they mention clothes, they mean one pair of pants and one shirt for a man and one dress for a woman. Can you imagine? I look at my closet full of plain, solid-colored Old Navy t-shirts and feel loaded (wealthy, not drunk). When the Nolan family mentions meals, they mean oatmeal with no milk or fruit. I open the freezer each morning and lazily wonder which hunk of meat I have to make that night. While they want for decent immune systems, we struggle to fight our ever-expanding waistlines. This book makes me feel so fortunate that I may start it all over again once I’m finished! This is Relative Deprivation at work. How rich you feel is totally dependent on who you are comparing yourself to. Compared to the Nolans (or many real people in this economy), my husband and I are doing great! Compared to our friends the doctors, with their big house and insanely lavish vacations, we’re struggling.
photo by Drawsome on Flickr
What do most good ol’ Amurrricanz do when they feel like they are poorer than everyone else? Apparently they buy lottery tickets. Recent research has shown the Relative Deprivation phenomenon in full-swing in lottery ticket buyers. If people are feeling deprived, they make the trip to the local bodega to pick up their Pick 6’s. If they feel better off than their neighbors, they don’t buy lottery tickets.
Here are the questions you can ask yourself about your MC’s Relative Deprivation feelings: Is she better or worse off than her neighbors, peers, family members? When does she feel better off and when does she feel worse? What makes her feel superior? What kinds of behaviors result from those feelings? How does she make herself feel better in the short term? Does she eat? Does she steal their watches? Does she retreat into her packed charity-ball schedule? How does her current state of feeling deprived influence her dreams for the future? Does she coast when she feels affluent or better off in some other way? Coasting is what most of us do once we achieve a certain goal or milestone. That brings us to Adaptation.
Phenomenon #2. Adaptation
“I’ll never get used to anything. Anybody that does, they might as well be dead.” ~Truman Capote, Breakfast at Tiffany’s, 1958, spoken by the character Holly Golightly
Adaptation is what happens when a person has hit a windfall, achieved a goal, or just plain got lucky when that Good Samaritan pulled him out of the path of that oncoming bus. We adapt to having an inheritance, being a college graduate, or being alive to wander into the bus lane again. The “new” becomes the “same old.” Lottery winners, on average, aren’t significantly happier than the rest of us when they are surveyed 5 years later. We dream about California living but apparently Californians register on the same levels in happiness scales as the rest of us. (See Daniel Gilbert’s book). We adapt to the new status quo.
When my husband and I moved from Center City to the house in the suburbs, we didn’t see it as the smallest one in the neighborhood. We saw it as huge and wondered how we’d ever fill it with furniture. We had just moved from a trinity on Naudain street, banging our heads each time we came down the skinny and treacherous spiral staircase. The kitchen in that all-stacked-on-top-of-each-other house was tiny and there was no room for the baby I was carrying. But that house on Naudain was a palace compared to our 3rd-floor walk-up at 18th and Pine. Now we are here in the suburbs for almost 10 years, we’ve lost our coveted and elusive guest bedroom to a second child, and we’d like to upgrade to a food processor and a breadmaker if we had the space in our now-tiny kitchen. We’ve adapted. I can read a thousand tragic poverty books (Angela’s Ashes is next), but try as I might, I can’t roll back my “want” clock to the days when we were two grad students living in a 1st-floor alley apartment. Since that hole-in-the-wall had no light, I simply dreamed of having a view of the street.
Here are some questions about Adaptation that you can ask yourself about your MC: Has she had a windfall of luck lately (e.g., landed that dream job, attracted a super-hero boyfriend, or inherited large sums from an obscure aunt)? What happens to her after? Does she adapt and want more? Does desire for more turn into a disease that will be her undoing? When is the exact point where she takes her new life for granted? Does she ever grow enough to notice? Does she freak out, donate her lottery winnings to a bald-cat nursing home and flee to the Himalayas to live a life of solitude? Or, like most of us, does she just treat herself to a 1-million-calorie Frappuccino that week?
In their very basic structure, all of the archetypes and character journeys center around some kind of resolution, some little bit of happiness. Characters are going after a goal; the pursuit and the accomplishment will, they think, make them happy in some way. The goal could be revenge, it could be love, it could be fifty-two cents. They achieve the goal. Everything is coming up roses and they are turning up noses. But then they adapt. Showing your character’s general state of happiness before, during and after the accomplishment of her main goal will help to give life to her and her story. In daily life, we may overlook details, but in general we are conscious to our own state of happiness. The pursuit of happiness drives us. It will drive your character, too. Show us her struggles to reach her personal happiness. Be brave and show us what life looks like for her after she gets all she (thought she) wanted. Be honest with yourself and your characters. As writers, we are obligated to speak the unspoken truth, especially in our fiction. Mix in a little rough Relative Deprivation and astonishing Adaptation, and your writing will come alive.
“Actual happiness always looks pretty squalid in comparison with the overcompensations for misery. And of course stability isn’t nearly so spectacular as instability. And being contented has none of the glamour of a good fight against misfortune, none of the picturesqueness of a struggle with temptation, or a fatal overthrow by passion or doubt. Happiness is never grand.” Aldous Huxley, Brave New World
Don’t bother with iBrain: Surviving the Technological Alteration of the Modern Mind by Dr. Gary Smalls and his partner Gigi Vorgan unless:
1. you are a Baby Boomer who is feeling overwhelmed with the web, and would like to commiserate with one of your own.
2. if you are internet addicted and in turn socially inept (there are a few pages of well-worn self-help advice on how to improve your social interactions and get off the web).
Interspersed in these split personality pages are a few references to fMRI studies about which areas of the brain light up when we are completing internet tasks. You won’t be able to pinpoint the studies, though, because the authors don’t use notations. No footnotes, no endnotes, just a list of references in the back of the book. They do list their references but we have no idea which studies go to which fleeting mention.
The book is ok, but it can’t decide which way it wants to go. As someone who is under 40 (Generation X) and considers herself a digital native (I had a computer in my house in the late 70’s), I found this book to be downright offensive at times. The anecdotal examples of exaggerated technology-addicted situations were inane and sensationalistic with fear. It’s the typical refrain we hear constantly from the stereotypically selfish and self-focused “me” generation of Baby Boomers.
The “evolution” that the authors posit is just silly. We all know that evolution doesn’t happen within a single generation. That would mean that my children have a different brain structure than my mother because I grew up with technology, have been on the internet since 1988, and have worked deep in computer systems administration. That’s not possible. The authors should instead use “adapt” instead of “evolve.” There should be more emphasis on what is known in academic circles as “brain plasticity.” The brain is a wondrous thing and can utilize different parts in different ways.
If we are indeed seeing a new generation of socially inept people, it’s the culture of the internet that has influenced their behavior. The tools haven’t morphed our brains down to the DNA and protein levels. The culture is the thing changing because of the tools, but this is how it has always been. Telephones, fax machines, cars and television haven’t changed that basic human brain structure that gets passed down from generation to generation. There is no true “evolution” happening because of the existence of lolcats (I’m sure the authors know this, and have just postulated an overblown theory to get attention for the book).
Unless you are in said state of panic about the internet and its implications, skip this book. The small self-help parts aren’t going to help you. Dr. Smalls probably meant for you to read them to your WoW-addicted daughter.
The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. Book 1 of 3, called “The Millenium Trilogy,” written by Stieg Larsson (deceased).
You can find a story synopsis at the wikipedia entry. Please see it for a synopsis. This post concentrates on my experience with the book and its themes.
The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo by Stieg Larsson was translated from its original Swedish into English by Reg Keeland. Before I get into the review of the book, I feel I must mention the controversy that surrounds the English translation of the novel. The translator Reg Keeland was apparently so aghast with the English editor’s after work that he insisted that the credit of translation be given to a pen name; he was so disgusted with the final output that he wanted no part of it. He especially seemed annoyed with the change in title. The original Swedish was either “The Man Who Hated Women” or “Men Who Hated Women.”
I consider myself a pretty typical American reader, and I have to say, I’d have never, ever picked up a book with that kind of title. “The Girl with The Dragon Tattoo” plays to our American sense of intrigue, and it does refer to a trait of one of the main characters. I have more issue with one version of the cover image.
The hair should be black and spiky and the skin should be pale.
The hair and skin color of the woman in the photograph don’t remotely match the description of said “girl” (a woman of about 25 years old). [I have a whole other issue with calling women over age 18 “girl” but I’ll mention that in a bit.]
I haven’t found any interviews with Mr. Keeland to know exactly what his complaints are, but I found the book to flow well regardless. I was never stopped abruptly by unfamiliar cultural nuances or odd dialogue. Knowing that Mr. Keeland was severely disappointed with the final English translation makes me curious what I missed. I’d love to know how this excellent book could be better.
Finding out the original title whilst in the throes of the plot was a strange experience. Before knowing the original title, I really had no idea where the plot was going. Once I had “Men Who Hated Women” in my head, I had different suspicions on where the events were leading. I almost wish I didn’t know, because the shock of the final battles would be even more startling. Then again, I’m too sure I could’ve stomached it without the forewarning.
If it weren’t for the buzz and the interesting title, I’d have avoided this book. I’m not much of a crime thriller reader. I read all 4 Dan Brown books and enjoyed them, but I don’t search out crime novelists. When I heard rumblings about Larsson’s The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, I didn’t catch that the book was in the crime thriller genre. It sounded interesting, so I picked it up from the library.
The book is massive: 465 pages. I knew I wouldn’t be able to finish it in the small amount of time I had it on loan from the library; it’s a new book and it had limited release time. I turned to the audio version. By listening to the book on CD, I could fit in some “reading” time while I was running, cooking or cleaning. When I could, I’d pick up the story in the print version right where the audio book left off.
It took weeks and a few different tries to finally get a hold of the UNabridged version of the audio performance of the book. For some reason, the library records have the abridged version and unabridged version under identical records. Other people had requested the print book, so I had to let it go for a while before I could get it back. I’d returned and then signed out the print version again while I waited for the unabridged copy of the audio book to show up.
When I did get the print book back, I was even more eager to continue on with the story. The first few chapters set up the characters so beautifully that I was haunted. Like an “earworm,” an incomplete song that repeats in your head, the characters and scenes would come back to haunt me. The only way to solve an earworm, psychologists say, is to look up the lyrics of the song and sing them through, from beginning to end. It’s thought that earworms occur because your brain is trying to resolve the discrepancy in the lyrics. Solve the discrepancy and the lingering haunt of a refrain disappears. That’s the theory, anyway.
Hop on over to iProng magazine to read my interview with podcaster and author of the popular 7th Son trilogy. J.C. Hutchins.
Tags: book, Interview, novel, technology 
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