Revenge and love in Solitaire

25 February 2003 | 3 Comments

Hello, Just a note with bits and bites of my thoughts on your book.

Nicola might have passed on i posted on the AOL lesbian reading group bulletin board that i really liked Solitaire. Anyhow, in no particular order, here are some thoughts.

Hope you get the Nebula. And the Lammy.

Oops spoiler here i guess, the book didn’t really kick in for me until the elevator attack. I stopped reading at that point and had a deep breath. Then she gets the option of going into VC and when she says ‘I don’t think i can be alone for eight years’, wow, i stopped there again. That’s really where this book went BANG for me and then i was hooked lined and sinkered. The first part was mostly set up, but there were bits of Jackal and Snow that made me think they weren’t going to be cut off. At least it made me pull for the characters to come out ok.

I noted how the story doesn’t touch revenge or getting even. I didn’t find it necessary, just somewhat unusual.

Jackal doesn’t even get mad at her parents, at least not her father, nor Neill, nor KO and it’s so easy to hate some big corporation. But i guess the corporation in a way is home to her, it’s where she went while in VC.

I thought the line where Snow tells Neil that Jackal loves him just stuck out, didn’t go anywhere. He’s important but to use the word ‘love’ was a bit far. ‘Love’ is between Snow and Jackal. You had some lines there (i can’t recall them anymore) that really felt spot on for me. I know the book wasn’t intended to be romantic, but there was a bit of it the way i read it.

Boy, do they drink a lot. (g)

What about a sequel? More, more.

Thanks for writing a thought provoking, heart rending read.

Please leave off my email if you post this on the virtual pint. Nice name that.

Cheers, V.

I’m glad you liked it. Thanks for taking the time to share your response.

No Lammy for Solitaire. The nominations have been posted, and Solitaire is not among them (although Nicola’s novel Stay has been nominated, which is a Very Fine Thing). Thanks for your kind wishes about the Nebula. Win or no, it will be fun to turn up at the ceremony and spend time with people that we haven’t seen for a while. I very rarely really feel like part of the science fiction community, and it will be unusual and interesting to be right in the thick of it for a few days.

Revenge in books is mostly wish-fulfillment. That’s fine, but not what I wanted to do in Solitaire. I think we’d like to believe that we can get even when bad things happen to us, but usually it doesn’t work out that way. Just think about the language — we want to get “even” with the people who have hurt us. But that’s not possible. If someone damages me or the people I love, how can I make that even? How can there be a balance for that? At the end of it all, Jackal has to live with what’s happened, and so do we. I do think she’s mad at her parents, at Ko, sometimes at the whole damn world. But the book isn’t about someone being bitter. I said in the previous question that Jackal behaves the way I would like to, and that’s also true for what we’re talking about here — I hope that when my foundation drops out from under me in one of the several inevitable ways, I will find a way through it rather than being swallowed up. Sometimes the things I write about are a kind of rehearsal.

We can disagree about proper applications of the word “love.” It’s the word I meant to use, and I think Jackal does love Neill, although not the way she loves Snow, or her parents, or the Ko greenbelt, or the feeling of being a Hope, or any of the other degrees of attachment and vulnerability possible along this particular emotional spectrum. It’s a shame to make one poor little word do so much work, but there it is. Your mileage may vary.

They do drink a lot, don’t they? (grin). I wonder where they get that from.

Cheers.

Posted by Kelley | Filed Under blog, talk to me, virtual pint archives, writing 

ASL and JME

23 February 2003 | 1 Comment

Just some ice water…had a bonfire in the snow last night…a break-up party for a friend… too much schnapps in the Swiss Miss.

I was wondering about a couple of things. In a previous question, you mentioned your interest in sign language. Did you start that program? Is it really good? And, have you ever seen the movie Children of a Lesser God? I loved that movie — when she describes the sound of the ocean — when she screamed, “Hear my voice,” I was bawling my eyes out. That movie made me want to learn sign language. And for a year I had a crush on Marlee Matlin (sp?)…I was thirteen. I never did get around to learning it though. I know the alphabet and I used to know how to count. But that’s all. If it had been there when I was in school, I probably would have taken it instead of french.

In Solitaire, Scully’s aftershock behind the bar made me think of seizures. I’ve never seen a real one. Have you? I have JME and have had plenty of seizures (haven’t had one in 9 yrs and no more zombie meds either)… Anyway, friends and classmates would tell me what I looked like when I was having one. When Scully looked like he was going to reach out, when he made the nasty strangled sound and his eyes rolled back… that whole scene (except that his body was relaxed during the aftershock), was scary for me to read because, in a weird way, it was as if I hit play on the VCR and there I was seizing in front of myself. What Jackal does for Scully, other people have done for me… move stuff out of the way etc., etc. So, have you seen a seizure? Have you ever had to move stuff out of the way for someone? Just curious.

Thanks for taking the time to answer yet another one of my questions,

Lindsey

I enjoy your questions, it’s nice to have an extended conversation.

I did start my class and I love it. Love love love. I study at ASLIS, the American Sign Language & Interpreting School of Seattle. It turns out that many students in my class moved to Seattle specifically to study at the school, and that kind of commitment makes for a pretty tight bonding experience. It’s a great place to be if one is serious about ASL. Classes are small (and will get smaller next year, since some people take class as a foreign language credit for the University of Washington, and won’t be staying for the full program). We get a lot of teacher attention (also known as nowhere to run, nowhere to hide…) There’s a big emphasis on community involvement and learning about Deaf culture. It’s focused and intense and treats us like grownups, all of which work well for me in a learning situation.

I have seen Children of a Lesser God 2 or 3 times and really admire Marlee Matlin’s work. I love the scene in which she dances, feeling the music. I recently saw a repeat of an episode of The Practice that she did in 2000, in which she played a woman on trial for killing the man who murdered her daughter. There was an amazing scene between Matlin and Camryn Manheim (side note, Camryn Manheim rocks) — they have an argument in ASL and as it heats up, Manheim stops voicing, and there’s a good 60-90 seconds of (silent) ASL between two very pissed-off people. No subtitles for the ASL-impaired; either the viewer keeps up or she doesn’t. It was exciting to watch, and very powerful.

I don’t believe I’ve ever witnessed a seizure — I’m guessing the images and notions I have mostly come from books and movies/TV. I’m glad you don’t have to make a daily choice between seizing and zombification — that sounds pretty unhappy either way. This is the first time I’ve really thought about the fact that people who experience seizures might not know what one is like (what they look like, or how people react). I imagine it’s unsettling to know something about yourself only from others’ perceptions, especially if the people around you are afraid. I hope your friends and classmates were sensible, although so much of that depends on our particular socialization (”bodies are icky and illness is embarrassing and what if I do the wrong thing?” versus “bodies are part of the package, they get wacky or hurt sometimes, and we just have to do what we think is best to help”).

So few of us are trained how to approach new and urgent situations, and how to trust ourselves in action. Specialized knowledge is good, but damn, there’s no substitute for common sense and the willingness to take some responsibility. Jackal behaves the way I hope I would: and now that I’m thinking about this, I realize that my next book looks at this issue (how people behave in crisis) more intentionally. Hmm. I wonder how many little moments in Solitaire reflect themes or ideas that are important to me but still subterranean, that I will explore in future books, maybe forever.

Posted by Kelley | Filed Under blog, life, talk to me, virtual pint archives, writing 

More about the pub

14 February 2003 | 1 Comment

My perfect pub isn’t much different from yours Kelley. I would like to have all my favorite people close enough to drop by a lot. You really made me hungry with that menu and I agree with most of the food. I’d like my own easy chair maybe covered with dark old worn leather so it’s soft. Tables for setting things on but not strictly as sitting at but some of those too. I loved the way you covered the wine. Lighting only bright over the pool table, subdued everywhere else. A variety of finger snacks in bowls here and there. Oh yeah that reminds me, no one would make disparaging remarks about anyone else’s body size or make recommendations about how to make your life better based on their idea of what’s right and wrong. That’s not to say those things couldn’t be in a discussion you dig. Weirdly enough I can see a book case with books that can be read there in a few of these chairs with lamps by them. (My efficiency expert mind is busy devising a system for this book thing. Or do they call those people system analysts now?) Is my quarter up on the pool table yet?

Sly

Your quarter is certainly up but you will have to check with Nicola to get the game going. I will sit in one of your lovely leather chairs with my beer and coach from the sidelines.

Doesn’t seem weird at all to have books. It’ll be a literary pub! Every once in a while we will have live music or live stories or some such fun. Talented people, famous and not, will clamor to perform there just for the company and the beer. There will be many interesting conversations between people who are comfortable with ideas and feelings and differences. Imagine, a cozy room full of cool grown-ups. How much fun would that be?

There will be no bullshit in our pub about body size, skin color, education, whether English is your native language, or who your daddy is. People will speak ASL and English and Spanish and French and whatever else, and we will all find ways to make ourselves understood. People who do not play nicely will be given the opportunity to change their behavior (free training provided!), and if they don’t choose to change then they will be helped out the door by a big strong woman in big strong boots. The rest of us will smile and go back to our beer.

Posted by Kelley | Filed Under blog, talk to me, virtual pint archives 

Don’t blame genre

12 February 2003 | Leave a Comment

Oversized mugs of hot chocolate for everyone!!! Oh, and there’s fluff, little marshmallows, whipped cream and shaved chocolate if anyone wants some. I’m assuming it’s -2 everywhere… Noreasters (sort of like Dairy Queen blizzards) for those in warmer places! I know… I’m taking the virtual beverage thing too far. But it’s fun.

I just wanted to say that I agree with you about the pleasure of story. I mean, it was all that I took away from your short stories that led me to Solitaire in the first place. I’ve been on this need-to-know-more kick. I read five really good stories this month, one right after the other (Solitaire, the fifth), and so I’ve been thinking and thinking and thinking. And thinking. Restless, really. And then I thought, “Wow. I don’t know as much as I thought I did”. And so, the need-to-know-more thing…

And second guessing, which is new to me. Without realizing it, I think I just wanted to know what Solitaire meant to you (and everyone else here), because I know what it means to me. For whatever reason, knowing what it means to me isn’t enough. Maybe I should find a book club that plans to read Solitaire (I’m laughing).

Have fun,
Lindsey

Don’t laugh too hard (smile)! I would love book clubs from coast to coast to throw their arms around Solitaire and hug it hard. It’s one of the best ways to make a book successful.

The thing is, I know why you’re laughing, too, because it’s just not really book club fodder, is it? I’m not sure exactly why I think that only a book club brave of heart would take it on. Well, I know partly why — I think of book clubs as mainstream organisms, and expect them to be more enthusiastic about Bridget Jones and the Ya-Ya Sisters than they would be about a young woman with an identity crisis and a crocodile in her head.

I am grateful for anyone who reads at all, even if they never touch my work, but I do think that many readers have a fairly narrow band of taste (even if the band is in some extreme part of the spectrum). People tend to like certain kind of stories, or certain ways of storytelling. I wish more readers knew that it’s not necessarily the genre they like or dislike, it’s the storytelling style or the story’s concerns. Nicola and I often remark on how many people have said to one of us I don’t like science fiction, but I love your stuff! Well, if they like our stuff, of course there’s a lot of other SF they won’t like, because it’s told differently, with different conventions and concerns.

I can understand people saying I’ve never before read any SF that I enjoyed, which is to me a very different statement. But genre no longer means prose style and plot content. Things have become more subtle than that. I think genre these days is more about particular storytelling assumptions, freedoms and limitations that help us define something as SF or thriller or Russian Depression Novel. I do think there are plenty of formulaic books in all genres, but at the heart of each book is the story that wants to be told. Either a reader will connect with the story and the way it’s told, or she won’t.

And speaking of connecting, please join me in a virtual toast to the Nebula Jury who liked Solitaire well enough to put it on the final ballot for the Nebula Award, doing great honor to the book and giving me a very interesting start to the week.

Posted by Kelley | Filed Under blog, talk to me, virtual pint archives, writing 

Numbers game

6 February 2003 | Leave a Comment

Hi Kelley:

I read “Strings” as a result of an email sent (and posted) to Nadja. Wow!!!!!!! Thanks for the taste. I can see Solitaire is next on my list.

Great work and website. Isn’t it nice to be “riding high on the crest of public approval.”

Aren’t we all imprisoned by a means of our own device?

Scott

I’m very fond of Strings, glad you liked it. I’m assuming since you found the post on Nadja’s website, that you also followed the trail to C.A. Casey’s article at Strange Horizons (but here it is again for people who may not know about it). I enjoyed the article thoroughly, and was jazzed that Nadja actually read the story.

Riding high on the crest of public approval doesn’t suck, for as long as it lasts. The trick is not to turn it into heroin, because one day the fix just won’t be there. Public approval is ephemeral, and contextual. Solitaire got a very strong response for a first SF novel, but that same response might be considered mediocre for a mainstream novel with same caliber of advance quotes and the same amount of pre-publication buzz. And if the critical approval doesn’t translate into sales, well… publishing is a business, and they don’t pay royalties on good reviews.

I don’t know how much you know (or care) about the business of publishing, but what I’m waiting for now are the sell-through figures. I know how many books were printed, ordered and shipped to booksellers. If stores are going to return large quantities of the book (because they think they will never sell them, or they’re tight on inventory space, or they have policies about turning inventory on a regular schedule), they will generally do so within about 6 months — in my case, by the end of February. It’s nice when stores order lots of books, and bad when they return lots. At the end of all this, HarperCollins will look at the percentage of books that “sold through” (shipments minus returns) and use this to roll their numbers and determine whether the book has been a financial success for them.

At the same time, bookstores will have noted the individual store sell-through. When my next book is published, they’ll go back to these records as a guide. The worst place a writer can find herself is on the downward spiral of “well, we ordered way too many last time, let’s cut that order in half this time” (as opposed to, “wow, her last book did well for us, let’s bring in a few more this time”). It’s better in some ways to sell 90% of 100 books than 50% of 180 books.

In the meantime, I am not ungrateful! I’m delighted with the response. Happy writer. I like being approved of. And even though Solitaire certainly hasn’t been universally praised, the criticism has almost always been intelligent and interesting. And really, the best part is the growing interaction I have with readers through this site. I even find myself answering Virtual Pint questions when I should be working on my new book (grin).

Sure, we’re all prisoners of our own device (the Eagles said so, it must be true). That’s what fear is. Solitaire was written on some level for anyone who’s experienced the liberation of kicking down one of her own particular walls.

Posted by Kelley | Filed Under blog, talk to me, virtual pint archives, writing