J. H. Authors

One Woman. Three Names. Many Books.

Musings

The Role of Critic

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Social media. Criticism. The blogosphere. Critical Thinking. Change.

There was an article in the NY Times this week about plagarism in the digital age. The amount of information readily available just by surfing the web is incredible. When I was a kid, having research books at home were a luxury. Now these books are viewed as doorstops, though the information in them was vetted. Written through a single dimensional lens, but vetted. Now Wikipedia is the first stop for research. And sometimes it is just plain wrong.

But a lot of time it is just a puke of information, with no critical thought. There is so much information available that without filters, without someone to help parse it, it cannot be managed. By filters I do not mean to suggest someone who tells you what to think. What I mean is developing the skills to think for yourself. And to risk being wrong.

Civil discourse is a rare art these days. This includes politics, art, religion. Is it because of the many outlets social media provides? Or is it because we are so afraid of being “wrong” that we won’t risk being provocative, or thoughtful?

On the other side of this conversation, we are able to question qualifications and authority. Is s/he qualified to have an opinion?

All of us need to figure out how to deal with the deluge of information at our disposal. How to sort through it. Filter it for ourselves. Come up with an opinion. And share that opinion with civility.

The Summer of Kicking it Up

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This AM I went for a 70 minute bike ride and 10 minute run with my Boston Fit peeps. Add a 1/2 mile swim in front, and quadruple the run, add three weeks and ta dah. Cranberry Sprint on the 28th. The swim still freaks me out a bit (though a swim clinic put on by Max Performance helped A LOT). I may be last. It may not be pretty. But I’m going to get this done.

That isn’t the only stretch of the summer. I am joining a blog on Monday–the New Hampshire Writers’ Network blog. Their motto is “Live to Write–Write to Live”. I admire the work of the blog, and am really thrilled to be a part of it.

And theatrically, all of my subscriptions are in. And last week I had some inspiring moments–meeting Doug Elkins (whose piece, FRAULEIN MARIA, will be at the Paramount in September), seeing a dress rehearsal of THE SUN ALSO RISES and then OTHELLO. All in the same day. I haven’t seen as much theatre as I would like to this summer, but I am starting to flex my muscles a bit. This looks to be a very exciting season in Boston theatre. You will be hearing much more about it.

And talk about stretching…despite injuries galore, the Red Sox beat the Yankees last night.

Life is good. Life is great.

Comfort Zone Stretch

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I am trying to step out of my comfort zone. I’ve blogged about the triathlon training. and will continue to do so until the end of the month (D Day is August 28). But the tri training in about doing something I’m not good at, getting better but being comfortable with being mediocre.

My other comfort zone is about being more present in various writing communities. Responding on listservs. Commenting on blogs. Letting people know when I think their work is good.  And letting people know about this blog.

I am also going to  start guest  blogging with a group–the New Hampshire Writer’s Network blog. I am an admirer of their work, and thrilled to be a part.  Those blog posts are taking some crafting.

These tend to be written on the fly. But I need to keep up with them, and use them as a daily exercise. Especially if I start letting people know it is here.

Stretching is exhausting.  But it feels great.

My Tribe

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I have a friend who is a poet. For a long time she was working on her poems, taking workshops and working closely with a mentor. But it wasn’t until she started an MFA program and met other poets in varying stage of development and all about support that she finally said to me “I get it now. I’ve found my tribe.”

As a writer, you do lonely work writing, editing, thinking. No one can help you with most of this. Sure, you get feedback. But incorporating it is another solitary activity. So you have to find your tribe. Fellow writers who “get” your work, your genre, your passion.

Years ago I was at a Malice Domestic conference with a friend. She was in a long line, shipping back a box of books (one of the challenges of conferences is how to get the haul back home). She met Dana Cameron, who suggested (invited) Regina and I to join the New England Chapter of Sisters in Crime. As very new, unpublished writers we were nervous, but we went to a meeting. And found our tribe.

Sisters in Crime‘s mission is “to promote the professional development and advancement of women crime writers to achieve equality in the industry.” Which they do. And they do so much more.

There is nothing like sitting in a room full of mystery writers learning about craft, or poison, or forensics, or investigation. There is nothing like sharing a passion with other people, and not having to explain it. There is nothing like belonging to an online group (like the magnificent Guppies) who cheer success, congratulate failure (it means you got out there and tried) and offer advice.

If you are a writer, find your tribe. If you are a mystery writer, join Sisters in Crime. (And Mystery Writers of America, though I haven’t made that leap yet). The tribe is waiting to meet you.

Just Keep Swimming, Just Keep Swimming

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I learned how to swim when I was a kid. You couldn’t keep me out of the water. My grandfather used to make me “dry out for a bit” on the dock at Lake Winnipesaukee until he got so sick of me pestering him that he let me back in the water. He sat for hours on the deck, playing solitaire and watching me in the water.

Thanks to proximity to the ocean (I grew up on the south shore of Massachusetts) my swimming wasn’t limited to lakes. I could body surf with the best of them.

But here’s the deal. I am trying for a triathlon. And my swimming wasn’t, shall we say, efficient. In fact, I could barely get yardage in. I tried to improve my own form, to no avail. And then I read that it was a good idea to have someone check your swimming for efficiency. So I joined the Master’s Class at the Y, and signed up for a couple of lessons. And I swallowed my pride (which is pro forma these days) and relearned how to float. And kick. And how to be streamlined. And how to breathe.

Learning (or relearning) as an adult is challenging because I think to much. And worry. I worry about hurting myself while running. Or traffic while on my bike. Or drowning while swimming. All legitimate concerns, but they overshadow the joy. And there is joy.

I have a long way to go before I am a strong triathlon swimmer. But I am better than I was last week. And for now, I’ll just keep swimming.

2010 MURDER ON THE ORIENT EXPRESS–A Rant

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I wrote my thesis on Agatha Christie, and her use of POV. One of the books I used was Murder on the Orient Express. Because of that, I have read it (over and over and over) fairly recently. I am a fan of the 1974 film.

I am also a fan of Agatha Christie. She is sometimes dismissed, but shouldn’t be. She was a master of her craft, and contributed a great deal to the genre. And 30 plus years after her death, she is still widely read. (Another blog post to come, I see.)

I will leave my rants about the recent Miss Marples to another post. This one is for the 2010 adaptation of Murder on the Orient Express, starring the quintessential Poirot, David Suchet. The cast was wonderful. The production values were fabulous. But the adaptation. Mais non.

There were changes to the story (spoiler alert) like a stoning at the beginning (which Poirot seems to condone) and the seeming lack of a relationship between M. Bouc and Poirot that made me nervous about other changes, but I went with the flow. I know that a 2010 version, made in the shadow of the great 1974 film, would have changes. But where 1974 was a faithful adaptation, 2010 was more of an inspired by. And herein lies the problem. By tweaking the plot (to make it darker?), they ruined the story.

Some of my biggest problems? Colonel Arbuthnot considers murder to cover up his crime? No. Poirot doesn’t solve the case, but has it explained to him by the Princess Dragomiroff (not Caroline Hubbard? Was that because Eileen Atkins was playing the Princess?) No. The doctor is part of the conspiracy? No. And Poirot fights for the Law over Justice? No.

I will discuss what they’ve done to Miss Marple in another post, but I’ve come to expect those. But to have David Suchet play Poirot in a version of Murder on the Orient Express that I hated? Such a waste.