Enough with the adverbs

Another one of my narrative problems is working out how to express what a character thinks and feels without relying too much on the omniscient narrator and adverbs. A pox on adverbs! I want to write expressive text that sparkles with compelling verbs; not, I want to write expressively and compellingly. In my work as an editor, too much reliance on adverbs strikes me as lazy sometimes: a writer who cannot be bothered to seek the correct, evocative verb, or a writer who gives up when the sentence structure frustrates their attempts to express an idea and throws in a few adverbs to dress it up instead of rewriting. A pox on adverbs, I say! When I get a few more pages of my novel written, I'll do a find/replace and destroy all the -ly words. I don't want to sound like I use a thesaurus when I'm writing, either; where simple verbs will do, that's what I'll use: such as "he said" "she said" almost all the time, never "opined" or "asserted" or "pronounced." The way some writers use adverbs and those specific speech-verbs bothers me because the writers fail to take the time to describe the character's face and voice. I don't need a plethora of details, but a crinkled lip and a turned head combined with the right dialogue conveys disgust in a profound way to the reader, much more so than writing "Tom was disgusted." When people interact in real life, those microexpressions on others' faces, body language, and word choices reveal all we need to know, unless the person actually says, "I am disgusted." And no floating bubble (aka omniscient narrator) resides behind people's heads that reads in a large black font [definitely NOT Comic Sans], "Ooh, Tom was disgusted." My interest in facial expressions expands with every episode that I watch of the Fox show "Lie to Me." I will definitely incorporate some aspects of this study of microexpressions into my novel in order to describe the moods and reactions of my characters -- much better than adverbs.
And this omniscient narrator business, or even the first-person narrator, are getting a bit tired. We never get to see what a person thinks and feels inside their brain, inside their soul, except for our own; how can we identify with this person's innermost thoughts when they are so completely foreign from our own. The only stories using first-person narrators that I enjoy are the ones written like diaries or letters; clusters of glimpses inside a person's thoughts and feelings presents a much more convincing narrative strategy to me. I know, I know "suspension of disbelief"; but that only works for me with movies and similar media. I want a book to convince me of its believability, to work at converting me to its version of the world, to draw me in while I struggle to maintain a foot outside, yet I fail because the word-world compels me to change my beliefs for those moments I indulge in its wonders. Visual media requires suspension of disbelief, while print media forces a change of beliefs, at least for that time my brain engages with the particular wordscape.
Oh third-person omniscient narrator, who invented you? What wunderkind novelist blessed the world with your first appearance? Jane Austen does work wonders with her narrators, but many modern novelists rely on this point of view to the extent that their descriptive work gets lazy. Why do I have to figure out how to inform the reader about the mood of a character, when I can just tell the reader that "Tom sits in a chair by the window, bored, as he watches rain trickle down the pane"; there, wasn't that easy? What if Tom taps his finger, leans his head on the back of the chair, or shifts in his seat: don't those movements convey his boredom without simply writing "bored." I think I'm annoyed lately with the writers telling me how to perceive a situation with such exactness. "Tom is bored," writes the novelist; but what if I want to interpret the situation presented in this novel of Tom's sitting by the window and swinging his leg as a deep-seated melancholy for that character which will influence his life's path and cause him great distress every time he tries to talk to his hyperactive, cheerful sister? Stop telling me as the reader how to read these characters and their dialogues and their actions and participactions; isn't that part of the fun of reading? To take those settings and characters and dialogue into your brain and imagine what is going on; as with paintings, part of the great art of novel-writing should reside in the mental pictures and moods that the reader sees, not only what he or she is told to see and feel by the author. Without that aspect of great fiction, most of literary criticism could not exist. This incompetence exists in so much current fiction, at least what I've been reading lately; I find this informing instead of storytelling even in books that others proclaim to be great works of art of our contemporary era. I want my words to paint a picture, but I don't want to try to control how people see and experience that picture. In my book, Tom will not be "bored" and boring, he will sigh and shift in his chair until the reader thinks, "ah, he's bored; now why is he bored, and what is he going to do about it?" and then turns the page in anticipation. 

Back from the Falls

Two nights and almost two days in Niagara Falls (aka "mini-me Las Vegas") flew by so quickly that I barely had time to blink. My D. golfed in a friendly tournament at the Legends course. Mulligan and I went along for the ride to NF, in order to spend the last couple days of vacay with our dude, and to avoid worrying about him driving on the highway after a full-day of golfing (two rounds). This was our first time with the dog in a hotel, so we booked a pet-friendly place: Best Western Fallsview. For an extra $25 per night, which included kennelling if you're out for the day visiting the Niagara attractions, they give you a treat bag on arrival and many smiles for your family pet. I put the dog in the kennel for a half-hour on Saturday morning so that I could go get something to eat, and she seemed even perkier when I picked her up! Mulligan is a champion traveller, and except for the occasional BOOF! when peeplz in the hall were making noizes, she was perfect.
We ate Antica Pizzeria pizza on Friday, recommended by a friend, and it was delicious! A+ for sure. I had their signature Antica Pizza, with onions and sauce and parmesan cheese (no mozzarella), and I think that might be my new favourite topping combo. Friday was so unbearably hot + high humidity that my brain started to melt, and I turned into cranky-monster with swirling eyes who frightens my D. He said, "Oh, I remember where I saw this version of you before: when we were in Mexico!" We booked a trip to Mexico in September, the tail-end BUT not the end of hurricane season (H-Ivan swamped our beach for a whole day), and we went to the tropical rainforest part of Mexico in SUMMER, not bright am I? I spent the first two days prostrate on the bed from the humidity, and the rest of the week I only ventured out after noon, and always had to stay in the shade, or MY BRAIN WOULD MELT. I inherited this condition from my mother: unable to stand high-humidity plus heat is a genetic defect apparently. Note to self, always book desert vacations if you want to travel in the summer months.
Back in the air-conditioned Niagara Falls hotel room, I was less of a grizzly bear, but I was content to rent a movie on the tv so we stayed in and watched "Hot Tub Time Machine." Except for the soundtrack, don't bother; oooh, and parts of it are really really gross! That guy from the story in the link to the grizzly bear attack certainly has the right to HATE that mo-fo bear, but he doesn't ... maybe I could print out this article and show it to my D. when I have one of my g-bear, brain-melting attacks, and he won't "bear" a grudge against me, like that scientist, who must have a brain disorder to HATE NOT that mo-fo bear!

We walked down the steep hill to the Falls, and luckily the dog pulled me all the way back up because she thought she heard an animal squeaking behind the wall lining the sidewalk. The Falls are beautiful at night, but so think thousands of other people: it was busy for fireworks night, which meant we left before the booming started (goggie is very scared of fireworks!). The mist columned up twice as high as the Falls that night too, which meant we couldn't really see much of the Canadian side.
Saturday I lazed around = heaven! Read a new book (more on that later), napped, walked goggie three times, ate bacon, watched trash tv; it was bliss. That night, we got Thai Express takeout, and if you haven't had it yet, you are seriously deprived! I recommend their food, especially the green curry. The nearest location for local-bros is Lime Ridge Mall: worth the trip!
This morning, Sunday, we came home early, and now I'm blogging. Almost two days without my computer didn't kill me, but now I've been on it for two hours ... catching up I guess. Thanks to Lady Buttons for including me on her list of fav blogs -- yours is my absolute fav, Lady B.!

She's crafty

A new business opened nearby: paint-your-own ceramic dishes, called "Crock a Doodle". I am stoked to go there and try it out, and maybe organize a party with the ladies too. I used to wax crafty now and then, but in my year of trying new things, I've actually let the crafts lapse. I miss the creative process. Although I've been trying to write, I don't usually feel particularly creative during that slog: writing is HARD. I like crafts because of the relatively short period of time needed to get a result, a finished product. And, most of the crafts I've tried are nowhere near as difficult as writing; and the resulting product can sometimes turn into a gift. I made some holiday banners one year that were a big hit; the tote bags were also winners. So satisfying.

I already know which design I'm going to apply to a plate (or platter, if I get ambitious): an octopus. I saw an antique plate with a cephalopod on it, and now I must have one. Cephalopod designs on pottery is an ancient tradition: witness this Minoan vase (right). I can't afford the $700 version of the antique plate that I saw online, so I'm getting my crafty juices flowing again, and thanks to this new business in University Plaza in Dundas, I'm going to make one myself, for myself (no gifting this time). My design will be based on this antique print, but I'm sure the end result will resemble a five-year-old's art project, although that might look great on a platter too.
I only tried ceramics when I was a kid, with my mom, who went to classes and made many ceramic items, a very cool cookie jar among them, if I remember correctly. This activity will also count as a new thing for my 2010, since I really don't remember what it was like from when I was 12 years old.
A craft that I know I like and have done a bit is beadwork, from kits. I want to do more of that too, but I think that will have to remain a late-fall/winter activity. A summer activity that I could do in my nice cool basement is some more sewing. I definitely want to make a few throw pillows, since mine are getting pretty tired, and the last time I washed the covers, they got all pilly and I'm too lazy to pick the pills or cut them off. I also want to finally make a skirt from the piece of fabric that's been hanging in my closet for the past two or three years = LAME. If I make that darn skirt, then I could justify going to the fabric store and buying some more fabric for the next project. One Fabricland store is near a large farmer's market on Ottawa St. and an outlet eyeglasses place, which would be three errands in one trip to the east end. I like that idea; road trip soon.
My relaxing vacation has been going very well; so relaxing that I have read an entire novel and finished singing all the career mode disks on my karaoke game, and have not picked up one project. Ahhhh, my kind of vacation. I think I should be independently wealthy so that I could just relax all the time, instead of working or housekeeping or worrying or making lists. I had a list in mind when I started this vacation almost two weeks ago, but it dissolved. I am a major list-maker (lists, lists, lists always forming in my mind, swirling around, causing me anxiety), but that's a topic for another blog, another day.
Must go now, have one list-item that I must do before we head to Niagara Falls for the weekend = laundry!

Tea is sublime

I am not a daily tea-drinker, but I truly enjoy a cuppa now and then. A couple years ago, I discovered white tea, which contains leaves picked in their early fuzzy-white stage (see pic). One hot cup of that type of tea has enough mellow flavour and aroma to fill my entire morning with pleasure; and not caffeinated pleasure, since white tea contains less than one-quarter the caffeine of black coffee. I tell everyone I know who drinks tea that they must try white tea, and not just for its sublime flavour, but it may have cold-fighting properties too: it's full of antioxidants and anti-viral chemicals.
When I was growing up, all we drank in Nova Scotia was Red Rose Tea, which is perfectly fine for an orange pekoe (a grade of tea, which I only discovered while surfing a little in order to write this blog), and it's a Maritime company, so that was good too, supporting local businesses and all. Oh, and we drank many herbal teas, which I don't really favour. I drank the occasional cup of tea to be sociable at functions and gatherings, but I was far from a tea-lover. Not until I moved to another province did I learn that black tea was available in various flavours and configurations; after trying my first cup of Earl Grey, I was hooked. The scent and flavour of bergamot raise tea to a whole new level. Another bergamot tea is Lady Grey, a kinder, gentler version of Earl Grey and a trademark of Twinings, which is completely worth the extra money to buy a brand-name tea. Lady Grey is downright impressive at an afternoon sandwich luncheon ... Red Rose who?
And to my surprise, different teas at different times of the day do make for a nice change: try English Breakfast or my favourite early-morning brew, Irish Breakfast, upon awakening. Irish Breakfast blend normally uses Indian tea, instead of Chinese tea, which is a distinction in the major region of the world the tea originated and also in the size of the leaves, even though they both come from the same basic tree. People describe Irish Breakfast tea as having "malty" flavours, and I agree that it is a substantial drink with which to start your day, a wake-me-up tea, like a strong cup of coffee.
I usually drink my tea black, but sometimes with a bit of sugar, or a squeeze of lemon juice, or occasionally a dollop of honey; never milk for me, since I'm not a big milk-drinker. White tea never needs sugar or honey because its delicate flavour profile holds a natural sweetness.
Bagged teas are perfectly fine for my palate and my budget; if I had all the time in the world and an inclination to wash many accoutrements, I would indulge in the complete tea-ceremony with the loose leaves and the steeper and the warmed pot, etc., etc., on a regular basis. Loose tea brewed with care actually does taste so much better than bagged tea that it's really hard to describe, but I'm a tea-lover, not a tea-snob, so I enjoy them all. Except, I find green tea too astringent and prefer not to drink it, unless it is flavoured with ginger or some other strong-aroma ingredient.
I only recently tried chai tea, which is very spicy and rather FUN, all caps. I will likely savour that type of tea rarely, since I enjoy the actual flavour of the black tea leaves so much on their own.

Oh, and I almost forgot to mention jasmine tea: the world would definitely be a sad, empty place without jasmine tea.
I've managed to fill an entire blog entry about tea; I hope that my enthusiasm for this drink has come through in this writing. One quick mention about tea as a commodity, though: while it's not currently on my list of socially responsible shopping choices, fair trade tea should probably make it on there in the near future. The list is long, that guilt-list subscribed to by all the people who want commerce to be fair in this globalized world. Imagine that! I'll have to look into it a little more, and I'll let you know when I do decide to put tea on my personal list, because then I'll have some actual tea brands to recommend, not just tea types.

This spice is so nice

My favourite spice is cumin, which I hadn't really tasted until I became an adult. Now I use it in so many dishes that I routinely run out of it and have to make a special trip to the Bulk Barn (my favourite spice store) to stock up. During this most recent restocking trip, when I opened the little bin, the aroma made me smile and giggle a little bit, right there in the aisle of the Bulk Barn; what a weirdo, getting a thrill from a spice aroma. The nutty, peppery flavour of cumin fills in the profile of so many dishes, from chili to curries, from hummus to spiced cornbread; Mexican, Spanish, Indian, and Middle Eastern cuisines favour cumin.
For a treat, fry some potatoes in butter with onions, and then dust with cumin in the last couple minutes of cooking. Lentil soup will earn extra praise with cumin added early in the simmering, so its flavour permeates the broth.
Any time I cook with avocados (cumin punches up guacamole to a whole new level of divinity), such as this summer of my tostado, I always sprinkle in a little cumin. Cumin can improve almost any dish: add a little cumin plus some chili powder to regular macaroni and cheese, and Ole! It's Mexican-inspired Mac & Cheese.
My D. and I disagree about some spices, but he never complains when I add cumin to my favourite dishes, from casseroles to soups and stews to rice pilaf and corn muffins. I should get a mortar and pestle and try the seeds; I bet they're great toasted a bit before they're ground into the powder. Yum.