The Poker Philosophy

On  Terry Pratchett's Discworld, the disc (comparable to our 'the earth') functions not on a magnetic field but on a magical one. This causes all kinds of problems and makes life more interesting but occasionally much shorter. The mundane practicality of it, if anything on the disc can be called mundane, comes to this: if one believes something, it is likely to come into existence on the disc. Monsters under the bed, for example, are physical realities. Most adults cannot see them, as they have trained their minds to ignore such things, and the reverse-existence rule is true: lack of belief in a thing causes it to become nonexistent. Children, trolls, gnomes, and wizards, all of which coexist more or less peacefully, depending on current events and the proximity of Koom Valley Day, not only believe in but also see said monsters. 

Miss Susan, adopted granddaughter of the anthropomorphic personification of Death, governess and schoolteacher, terror of bogeymen, and generally practical person, can see monsters as well, usually to their surprise and imminent demise. At her first governessing (it's a word now) job, she tried to convince the children that the monsters under the bed, in the closet and lurking throughout the basement weren't real. She knew this to be untrue, but she also knew that monsters who find themselves un-believed-in will find another house to terrorize. The children were fully aware that the line "if you don't believe in them, they'll go away" was utter bullshit, and Miss Susan found very quickly that she would have to use more direct measures.

Enter the nursery poker. When the children noticed a monster in their room, they would run in terror to Miss Susan, who would tuck them back in and pretend not to notice, until she reached under the bed or in the closet to pull the monster out by its hair and threaten it with the poker. Usually the monsters were sufficiently frightened by the mere fact that they could be seen by an adult that they would leave. The more stubborn monsters simply got bashed with the poker. In Pratchett's words, "The children refused to disbelieve in the monsters because, frankly, they knew damn well the things were there. But she'd found that they could, very firmly, also believe in the poker."*

Entertaining? Yes. Practical? More than one might think. One of your author's sharpest complaints against certain people, most noticeably of the conservative Christian persuasion, is their ostrich mentality. They rail against creative fiction - the Hellboys and the Harry Potters - because these "encourage people to think of the world in a different way than God made it."** But these are the people who will not watch the news because it is "too depressing," who send their children to private school or homeschool and later to Christian colleges because they believe it will shield them from the evil of the world. (Note: sending your child to private school/homeschool because it will provide them with a better education is entirely different.)

This is a disservice to their children. Either the children will grow up and live inside a bubble, which is psychologically and socially unhealthy, or they will grow up in the bubble and someday be rudely introduced to the real world. This mentality is the same as knowing that a person will be walking into a dangerous situation and refusing to give them any means to defend themselves because "if you can't defend yourself, no one will attack you." The practical reality? They're going to have the shit kicked out of them.

The unpleasant, even brutal reality of the world is that it is a reality. Life does not work the same way it does in a Jeanette Oke or Max Lucado book. Things do not always end happily ever after; there are people who will attack an indefensible, innocent person precisely because he is innocent and indefensible. Instead of denying that such people and such realities exist, would it not be better to admit that such things are real, and dedicate ourselves to finding ways to stop them? There may well be a monster under the bed, and pretending it isn't there won't make it go away. Bashing it with the poker? Well, that might. 

At the end of Hogfather, Pratchett's book involving, among other things, the poker, Miss Susan kills a human monster in front of the children. She is berating her grandfather for not doing anything about the situation when he answers, "The world will teach them about monsters soon enough. Let them remember there's always the poker." Instead of the denial preached by some (I hasten to say not all) of the Christian community, let us remember that there is always the poker.

*Both quotes from Hogfather by Terry Pratchett, Harper Torch Publishing, copyright 1996, pages 23 and 343, respectively.

**This quote modified from an actual quote of the same sentiment by the author's mother.

Formulae for Writing Romance Novels

Part... um... three, probably.

The plot

The plot is largely irrelevant and serves only as a backdrop for the sexual tension inevitably building between the hero and heroine. They should meet coincidentally, as she is taking a wild and society-disapproved, unchaperoned horseback ride across the countryside. He can see her from afar and learn about her and her tragedy form his friend or butler, or he can be conveniently but not suspiciously close at hand when her horse unexpectedly throws her, or her or her cruel and capricious employer (if the heroine is a poor, misunderstood girl working long, tiring hours as a drudge to keep soul and body together, etc.) throws her out on the street after blaming her for something the heroine, of course, never did.

The hero comforts the heroine without undermining her feminine power, and at this point it is permissible to introduce the first sex scene. Done properly, it should take close to ten pages to describe first the desire building within each character, then moving on to those first tantalizing touches and significant looks. Every thought, movement or feeling should be recorded precisely, using prose so ornate as to bleed into the realm of bad poetry. (It should also be noted that the hero not have any difficulty, no matter now potentially humorous, in removing the heroine's bra/corset/knickers/shift/undergarments of choice.) Build up to the moment with as much excruciating and time-consuming detail as possible, then break off with a single poignant yet pointed sentence, such as Mariella didn't sleep a wink, but she had never spent a better night, or Christianna had never imagined that being bad could feel so good. Something trite and cliche usually works well, as the drama has lodged itself in the reader's mind and needs only the merest nudge of suggestion to hurtle into personal fantasy.

From this point forward, whether the two have been together (never use such crass terminology like the f-bomb; this purports to be a love story)  or not, the plot is even more unnecessary and its various twists (nothing too unpredictable) serve only to mark time until the two can be together (or be together again, as the author decides). This is where references to steamy, passionate, sleepless nights should be inserted, as well as a sense of contentment in the heroine and an acknowledgment on the hero's part that married life would perhaps not be unbearable.

Finally, the tensions is wholly resolved whent he hero vows to take care of the heroine, possibly giving up his previous philandering ways. They will get married (sunset weddings atop a rocky crag or moonlit-beach weddings are appropriate here), and if the heroine has been of the poor-but-plucky variety, she instantly matures and makes an intuitive, capable partner for her new husband. The rich-and-bored variety of heroine suddenly finds her life full of meaning, and although she swore never to be merely a man's wife, realizes that she enjoys caring for her husband and competently, if slyly underhandedly, managing their shared affairs. The hero, while never before a man to stay with a single woman, becomes monogamous overnight and never so much as looks at another woman without comparing her to his wife and declaring his wife the most beautiful/intelligent/gracious/understanding/all-around-best woman to be had. The two should discuss these life changes, using them as metaphors for various activities, while in bed. The end.

The language

The language of the romance novel should be overwrought to the point of ridiculousness. Push the prose so far into bad poetry it makes Vogons sound like Shakespeare. If a single sentence in the novel sounds like it might be something a rational human being might say in everyday conversation, it must be rewritten. Description should be ornate, thorough, and full of entendre. Only the most shameless of readers should be able to read the back cover without blushing. This is a perfect example.

Note: we of BC will not be covering fantasy romance novels, partly because we start laughing too hard to type when we think about it, and partly because it's already been done, and beautifully so.

PS

Apparently the BBC reads yours truly. That or they're a little psychic. This was on yesterday's headlines.

The Legend of the Library Ghost

or, How to Write a Ghost Story

Therese and I were bored at work, and we got to thinking (always dangerous) - our library used to be a house. It's about a hundred years old, and the upstairs is basically untouched. There used to be study rooms up there, but since it's not wheelchair-accessible, it's been closed to the public. People are forever asking why it was closed, and whether it will be reopened, and when, and can I please just go look around for a minute 'cause it sounds really cool and I promise I won't touch anything can I please? As we all know, the truth, while, well, truthful, is boring.

So Therese suggested an alternate explanation - a ghost. We got to talking about how to spread this rumor without looking like we were trying to spread the rumor, and we came up with the following. One could even change the details to apply it to any area one wishes to keep mysteriously private.

1. Evade. When people ask about the upstairs, look uncomfortable and stammer out the boring truth in a way that makes it look like an evasion. This raises curiosity, and people will then ask for "the real answer."

2. Share. Tell the "ghost story," but preface it with "We don't usually tell people this, but..."

2a. Make it tragic. Our ghost is a young farmer's daughter, whose beloved was shipped out in WWI days after giving her a ring and receiving in turn a promise that the girl would never rest until her disapproving father gave his blessing to their marriage. The soldier died and the girl was consumed with grief.

2b. Make it mysterious. The girl died shortly after receiving the news of her beloved's death - she fell down the stairs and broke her neck. But did she throw herself down the stairs out of grief and a preference to be dead rather than marry the man her father chose for her? or did he throw her down the stairs after her spirited refusal and consequent declaration of unending love for the young soldier? or did she simply trip and fall? was it her brother, just barely too young to serve in the army but full of patriotism and honor and anger at his sister's disobedience? No one knows, and her diary, in which she wrote faithfully every day, ends the day before she received the news of her beloved's death. The last several pages have been torn out... scraps of burnt paper were found in the fireplace by the invalid mother, but she never said a word about the matter, maintaining until her own death that her daughter's was an accident.

3. Provide evidence. Produce sounds of thumping, walking or shuffling at times when no one should be upstairs. Find out that pictures or portraits on display have been replaced by photographs, all of the same girl - the ghost. Lights might flicker on and off, late at night when the building is empty.

4. Deny. Nothing gives a ghost story credence like its categorical denial. If possible, deny the story before it is known.

And there it is - formula for a ghost story, ready for personalization and application wherever mysterious explanations are more interesting than the truth. Join us next time, when we will continue explaining the formulae for romance novels.