Y’all know I’m a sucker for a good memoir, and Amy Poehler’s Yes, Please is definitely one of those.
I first
spotted Amy on Upright Citizen’s Brigade, when I was repeatedly drawn to this
strange, big-eyed blonde who just radiated good-natured weirdness. When she
moved to SNL I started girl-crushing, and by Parks and Recreations I was
besotted. She’s super smart, and so funny. When I got my hands on the Audible
version of her book I was excited, because I knew the book was going to be good.
AND she was going to read it to me. (I’m so spoiled.)
It always
makes me feel good to hear of celebrities who had happy, stable childhoods and
grew up to become normal, productive people, rather than the endless drama, dysfunction
and anguish that you always imagine fuels a creative career.
I enjoyed
listening to her journey, and her early experiences in comedy. I enjoyed her anecdotes
about behind the scenes at SNL. And I fell in love with her husband, Will
Arnett, all over again. He’s one of my favourite comedians, and I was so
chuffed when they were married. They seemed perfect together. It broke my heart
when they divorced. But she was so classy and diplomatic. I have ‘nuff respect
for her for not dragging his name in the muck.
The cherry
on top is, she also wins the award for best chapter title of all time: “Humping
Justin Timberlake”. I could never have come up with anything that fabulous.
Good job, Amy. I’m waiting for you to write again!
As I said in a recent post, getting a bad review sucks. It can be inaccurate (or not), hurtful, or useless. Although it’s a bit more private, getting a bad critique from a friend or critique partner can suck just as bad. And if you can’t handle it, don’t dish it out.
Here’s how
to avoid giving another writer a bad critique:
Ask
yourself what you’d want if you were in their position.
Respect,
right? Honesty, clarity and depth. That’s a good place to start.
Ask them
what they’re looking for
Is there
anything they’re particularly concerned about? Do they think they’ve nailed the
setting but are still unsure of their characters? Are they anxious about
inaccurately portraying a character of a different ethnicity, sexual
orientation, or political point of view? Try to home in on what they’re most
unsure about, and focus your feedback on that.
Be honest
but not brutal
If a writer
trusts your opinion, you owe them to be honest. Handing it back with a pasted-on
smile and the assurance that it was “perfect” is doing them a disservice. Use
tact where necessary, directness where necessary. But make sure your feedback is motivated by a
desire to help, not hurt. You wouldn’t want anyone to trash your piece, and
tear it to so many shreds that you don’t recognise it anymore. So try to rein
in your inner bitch.
Be
specific
Saying, “I dunno,
but I just didn’t like Theodore,” helps nobody. Why didn’t you like him? How
can you fix him? Try to focus on specifics. “Theodore’s character didn’t feel
realistic to me because he’s so consistently good that he almost doesn’t seem
human.” Or, “Theodore’s mode of speech just doesn’t sound right. It’s not
feasible to me that a man who never finished primary school would have the kind
of vocabulary you’re putting in his mouth.” There, now that you’ve explained
your concerns, your friend can fix the problem.
Be timely
Yeah, we’re
all busy, but if someone gives you their precious book and asks you to read it,
don’t toss it onto a drawer and convince yourself you’ll get to it “some time”.
We writers are an anxious bunch. If you make us wait too long for feedback,
we’ll start by consuming our fingernails, then move on to our toenails. Then
our digestive juices will begin to dissolve our stomach lining. And all the
while a nasty voice in our head will be chanting: They hate it because its
awful. I suck. My book is a disaster. I’m never going to write again.
Please, put
us out of our misery. Get back to us as soon as you’re able. Gracias.
Offer
suggestions
If you’re a
reader or a writer yourself, you’ll understand how valuable another person’s perspective
can be. Sometimes we know something’s wrong, but aren’t sure how
to fix it. If Theodore is too good to be true, how do we take him down a peg or
two . . . convincingly? Does he filch pennies from the tip jar at the deli? Does
he mumble an excuse and shut the door in the face of a couple of kids asking
for school donations? Sometimes our imagination well runs dry, and we’re glad
for a jump-start.
Remember,
though, that just because you shared an idea doesn’t mean you own it. Give of
your own free will, but for Gollum’s sake, don’t decide you have the right to
call your writer friend up every three days to ask if they’ve used your idea
yet. Maybe they will, maybe they won’t, but once a suggestion has been made,
you no longer have ownership.
So what does
this all boil down to? When you’re critiquing a piece, do as you would be done
by. Because next time, it might be you looking for an opinion, and you’ll want
only positive karma flowing your way.
Wait!
You aren’t going without leaving a comment, are you?
Never heard of it? That’s okay; I just made it up.
It’s a lovely day and I’m in a good mood. I’m giving away FREE
professional edits to the first FIVE writers sending in their material. No
obligations, no strings attached, just some clear, compassionate advice on that
piece you worked so hard on.
Simply:
Leave a comment on ANY of my Scribble Pad posts. (Not this one, duh.)
SHARE any of my posts to your social media.
Send me UP TO 2,000 WORDS of your novel, screenplay, non-fiction book or short story.
Fat Vampire 3: All You Can Eat by Johnny B. Truant
This third installment in the Fat Vampire series features one of the best opening lines I have ever read, in any book, anywhere: “Reginald was getting tired of bumping into strippers”.
I mean, how great is that? It raises so many questions. Why
were the strippers there? Why was he bumping into them? And why was he tired of
it? You know you just have to read more.
By this point in the series, things are starting to get
dark. There’s a war brewing between vampires and humans, instigated and incited
by angels who certainly aren’t the kinds of beings you and I imagine when you
hear the word.
Vampire-mageddon is on the horizon, and the entire
bloodsucking species is facing extinction. Can the smartest vamp on the planet
think his species out of this one?
Again, loved it. And the books are short, so they’re perfect
for a couple of nights snuggled up under your blankie.
Bad reviews
suck. Big time. But if you’re going to be a writer—or a singer or an actor or a
knife-juggler—you’re probably going to get them. Name me one Pulitzer Prize
winner or Nobel Laureate who never got a thrashing in the press. You need to
understand that once you’re in the public eye, you’re opening yourself up to
analysis, critique and commentary.
Not all of
it’s gonna be good.
It’s wonderful to have your ego massaged by squeals of You’re the best! And When’s your next book? But what do you do when the comments get ugly?
Ask yourself whether it’s justified
I’ve had—ahem—a
few negative reviews in my time. My instinct was to cry buckets of tears. They
hate me! Waaahhhh! Then I began to ponder. Was any of it justified?
Some oui, some non. Some people said that one of my books (Mesmerized, if you really wanna know) focused too much on the side story and not enough on the romance, which should always be central and shine out above all. “Where was the love?” one reviewer asked. Was she right? I’ll admit it: Yes, she was.
One of my
novels featured a hero who got a concussion from a bomb blast, and yet still
managed to bounce out of bed in a few days, running around and boinking my
heroine. “He should be cloned,” one reviewer said nastily. Kinda mean . . . but
she had a point.
I remember
the ones that were right, and took those lessons to heart. They made me a
better writer.
What if
they’re wrong?
I’ve also
had reviews that were way off the mark. One person presented a bizarre theory
that my characters’ names echoed their personalities almost verbatim: Mattie
because she was a doormat and Dominic because he was demonic.
Uh . . . no.
That’s the stupidest thing I ever heard.
One book
club wrote me to tell me they were blacklisting me because my book didn’t have
enough sex in it. Huh? How much sex is enough? The sex fits in the plot line,
the characters, and the situation, and that’s all the sex you need.
When reviews
are off the mark, spiteful, or dead wrong, forget ‘em. Chalk them up to
misguidedness, jealousy, or a mean spirit. Fire up your keyboard and go on.
Ask for
clarification
Now, I don’t
advise you to email the chief reviewer of the Times, but if you get some
hazy feedback from someone you’re actually in contact with, like “Meh, I just
didn’t like it,” you’re well within your rights to ask what exactly they didn’t
like, so you can try to fix it.
Poll the
crowd
One person’s
opinion may not hold a lot of weight, but if several people say the same thing,
there might be something to it. Ask around. Give or lend a few copies to some
trusted friends (maybe not close family members who’d die rather than hurt your
feelings) and ask for feedback.
Don’t pad
the comments section
For God’s
sake, don’t make up a bunch of fake identities and proceed to give yourself
godlike five-star reviews. You’re gonna get caught out and trust me, it’s
humiliating. Also, don’t shoot back, get nasty, or attack the reviewer online
or off. Maintain your grace and dignity. Your image is everything. Remember the
Streisand Effect. Small things only get bigger if you call attention to them.
Get
expert advice
Ask a
professional editor or writing coach—like *cough* me—for their opinion.
Although it’s best to do this before you publish, even after it’s out
there, some solid pointers might help you avoid the same mistakes next time.
Treat
yourself
Okay, so you
got a bad review. Cry your tears if you must, but pick yourself up and dust off
your knees. You’re a writer, dammit. Writers write, and to hell with other
people’s sucky opinions. And to help you get into the mood, treat yourself to
something sinful. My poison of choice is one crushed Oreo cookie and a large
scoop of Ben and Jerry’s Cherry Garcia, all drowning in Baileys Irish Cream.
But you have
whatever suits you, honey. Bottoms up!
Any ‘bad review’ stories to tell? Any advice to share? Comment and let us know.
I know that
once I make my confession things are gonna get ugly in here, so I’m just gonna
come right out and say it. I’ve never seen a single episode of Doogie Howser,
M.D., and deeply disliked How I Met Your Mother. The first, because it simply
wasn’t on TV in Trinidad at the time, and the second because the show never
grabbed me, and I found the laugh track annoying.
So there.
HOWEVER—and it’s a big however—I adore Neil Patrick Harris. Men with three first names are so sexy. I loved his memoir, Neil Patrick Harris: Choose Your Own Autobiography, especially since I got the audiobook and Neil read the whole thing to me. I’m lazy, I know.
I love the
memoir genre, especially if I like and respect the person who wrote it, but
this one was different. Special. Neil chose to organise it like one of those
old-fashioned Choose Your Own Adventure books I couldn’t get enough of as a
child. The kind that had you hopping back and forth from page to page to see
what happened next, depending on choices you make.
Pretty damn
hard to achieve with a memoir, no? Double the difficulty because it’s written
in the second person: You.
Anyway, Neil
nailed it. He has a wonderful voice, and he’s led a happy and interesting life.
I’ve always had the theory that some of the most successful and creative people
have lived through a hard, painful life. Neil kicks that theory into a cocked
hat. He was loved, cherished, and encouraged by his family. He lived the dream.
We get to hear about his early adventures in theatre, his big breaks on his own TV series, and how the stole the show from everyone else on HIMYM. How he fell in love and came out as a gay man (or was it the other way around? I don’t remember.) How he became daddy to two beautiful children (that part was super interesting).
A while ago I had a conversation with a client who approached me to proofread a major financial document. I agreed, but soon they came back to tell me that higher-ups had vetoed the idea, saying that several people had approved it, so it was okay to print as it was.
Um . . . mebbe, mebbe not.
Now, what I’m about to say might sound arrogant and
self-serving, but I don’t mean it as such. Believe me when I say that if any
document is meant for public consumption, it’s a really, REALLY good idea to
have a professional editor or proofreader look it over.
Here’s why.
An editor’s eye is different
Yes, yes, we’re all educated people here. We can all put together a decent memo or report. But thinking that a document is fine because management has looked it over might be a mistake. When professionals proofread, we examine every single sentence. We check every single punctuation mark. We debate agonisingly over every bulleted list. Periods at the end of each item or no? Indented or flush? We’re by no means infallible, but I can promise you that when you pass your document through the hands of a good editor, it’ll be better for it.
You need someone to double-check your facts
You say the time in Ghana is three hours ahead of Trinidad
and Tobago . . . but are you sure? Maybe I can run a quick check on that for
you? (Yeah, it’s actually four hours.) Have you correctly spelled the name of
your Minister of Parliament? (And do you want them to forever hold you in their
craw if you haven’t?) Is the person you’re writing about called Jennifer or
Gennifer? I’ll find out for you.
People might actually understand what you’re trying to
say
Have you ever had to read something three or four times to
be able to understand what the hell it’s saying? *eye roll. If some corporate
writers got paid by the number of letters in each word, they could retire and
open a coconut ice cream stand in Malibu.
A good editor will help you break down dense copy into
easily digestible bites. So your reader doesn’t give up halfway and use your
publication to line their hamster cage.
The printer’s devil hates you
Photos printed upside down. No captions. Page numbers
screwed up. An entire column in a story says ‘lorem ipsum’ over and over. You
notice too late that someone in the background of your cover photo is flashing
their boobs. Oops.
Reprints are expensive
You know what’s painful? Getting your booklet back from the
printer only to discover a handful of minor typos—or a major, catastrophic one.
Which will leave your company with egg on its face, and you stammering before
your superiors about how you let it slip past you.
You like to sleep at night
In short, hiring an editor to edit or proofread will give you peace of mind. Someone has taken the time to pick and poke at your valuable document and then stitch it back up again. Feels good, doesn’t it?
Wait!
You aren’t leaving without leaving a comment, are you?
I grew up in a country so straight-laced that in the 90s a store owner was charged for selling—I kid you not—a pubic comb, a “male enhancer”, and a pair of men’s underwear imprinted with I Ate the Whole Thing.
In my
family, we never had a VCR, cable hadn’t made it to our shores yet, and the
Internet was 20 years into the future. In other words, my teenage exposure to
porn was distressingly limited to clandestine gawping at 5-minute clips at
friends’ houses. I was college-age the first time I saw an entire porn reel
from start to finish. I was the only girl there, uncomfortably wedged in on the
couch among four or five teenage boys at a friend’s house in Jamaica, when the ‘rents
were out. I don’t remember much of the film, but I remember the experience as a
landmark.
At 21,
post-degree, I gaped around myself in Soho, London, at the neon XXXs flashing
in dusty shop windows, with aging bleached-blondes in tatty bustiers standing
outside doorways, puffing on fags and catcalling passing men, daring them to
enter. In Brussels I worked up the courage to walk into a crack-in-the-wall
porn theatre, stupidly stopping at the concessions stand to buy a tuna sandwich
and a drink. Too dumb to know that one did not eat in porn theatres.
I lasted
five minutes, maybe ten, before I raced outside, never mind the francs I’d
wasted, to finish my tuna sandwich in the street. Because a sharply dressed
young businessman in a neat grey suit had sat himself a few seats down from me
and begun to do what most people do in porn theatres.
In Geneva,
my sister, her boyfriend and I ventured unto one of those noble establishments
where they sold handcuffs, ball gags, floppy pink dildos and lurid video
cassettes out front. To the back, you could rent a private booth for five or
ten minutes and “view” the cassette of your choice. There was nothing behind
each curtain but a wooden bench, a box of tissues, and a half-full wastebasket.
After soaking up the atmosphere and the naughtiness of it all, we left, laughing.
Yeah, so
that was my brief introduction to the seamy underside of the porn world. Lame,
I know.
Anyhoo, on to True Porn Clerk Stories, a memoir written and narrated by Ali Davis. In short bursts of maybe five minutes each, Ali reminisces about her adventures, paying her way through college by manning the desk in a video store (remember those?) whose downstairs adults-only room was quite popular with the punters.
She relates
her stories in a dry, jaded, I’ve-seen-everything voice, and they’ll make you
reach for the hand sanitiser. Punters so desperate for their porn fix that they
waited outside in the cold for her to come unlock early in the morning. Customers
who don’t rewind their tapes are bad enough, but those who return them wet and
sticky? Ugh. Racist covers with black men depicted as farm animals. Entire
series of videos depicting acts that are still illegal in many territories. Men
who try to pick her up, or worse, don’t seem aware that the downstairs room is
equipped with CC cameras, and decide to “enjoy the product” on the spot.
Ick, ick, and ick. But so, so funny. You’ll cringe, you’ll empathise, and you’ll certainly laugh.
For you, the listener, I recommend this Earworks ear wash kit, to cleanse and irrigate. Because when you’re done listening, you’re gonna feel like you need it.
(Please note that as an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases.)
So we’ve gone through a couple of pitfalls to avoid when coming up with character names. Now you know what not to do. But how do you come up with the perfect handle for your hero—or the shopkeeper on the corner?
Here are a
few ways I do it.
Dust off
the phone book
Or at least,
open the phone book app. I’ve spent yours flipping through lists of names with
a notepad at my side, jotting down what appeals to me. I speak them out loud
and decide if I like the way they sound.
I search
like this for both first and last names, sometimes opening the book at random,
sometimes making my way through a whole letter. One caveat: never take
both a first name and a last name from one person. That’s a lawsuit
waiting to happen.
Throw a
baby shower
Or at least
visit a baby naming site or invest in a baby naming book. The advantage of this
tactic is that you can also check out the ethnic origin and meanings of the
name. Does it suit your character? If it’s a foreign name, how would someone
from that culture react to it? And just as with naming a real life baby, make
sure the name can’t be twisted into something obscene or insulting. A mean or
crappy nickname is a hard thing to shake, even if you’re fictional.
Make
stuff up
Because why not? It’s your book. Come up with something that sounds good and appeals to the eye. Read it out loud and see if it sounds right. It’s an especially good trick if you write fantasy or sci-fi. I seriously doubt a three-armed sub-lieutenant from beyond the Crab Nebula would have an Earthy sounding name.
Have a
laugh
Amuse yourself with a whacky and entertaining name, especially for a walk-on character who won’t be around long enough to be annoying. Let it be your little joke. Because writing should be fun.
Use an
online name generator
A good name generator will ask questions about your character’s gender, religion, ethnicity/origins and personality and then attempt to come up with a list of names you can use. It’s not only useful; it’s addictive.
I just tried
to find a name for my Jewish female Afgan zombie of Trinidadian parentage (born
in my birth year), and it came back with some gems, including Yuk Lozano and
Yulia Lawrie. How could you not love that?
Use
anagrams
Some people love finding Easter eggs in their books; hidden treasures that bring them a gasp of pleasure when they’re uncovered. Wouldn’t you love your reader to discover that your character’s name contains a hidden meaning?
Give them
just one name
Hey, Cher
and Elvis didn’t invent it, and you have to admit that having just one name makes
your character look cool as hell. Or sinister. Or commanding. Or godlike. Make them
feel like a legend!
Forget
names entirely
Hot skater dude. Pink Mini-Skirt. The Bread Lady. Anything that brings a vivid image to your reader’s eye and remains in their mind after they’ve read your story.
Slip a
notable characteristic in there
Yeah, yeah, in my last post, How Not to Name Your Characters, I may have suggested this wasn’t a good idea. But it’s too irresistible not to try at least once. Pick one characteristic and play with it; you’d be surprised how appealing your reader will find it, especially if the nickname is bestowed upon them by another character.
Bug-eyes
Malone. Legs Maraj. Twitch.
Oh, just
have fun. If you do, we will too. I promise.
I’ll admit it freely: I’m a Trevor Noah junkie. I watch him obsessively, pretty much the same way I watched John Stewart when he was at the helm of The Daily Show. They’re both so smart, funny, compassionate, incisive and hella cute.
So when I discovered that Trevor had published his autobiography, Born a Crime : Stories from a South African Childhood, I downloaded it so fast I bruised my clicky finger. Happily, I got the Audible version, so not only did I get to enjoy one of the best memoirs I have ever “read”, but I also got to hear my heart-throb Trevor read it to me! Win-win!
But maybe it’s
because of my West Indian heritage that shares so much with his African one. Maybe
it’s because Trevor is so young, so much closer to my era, that I was able to identify.
With Trevor’s deeply religious but surprisingly feisty and defiant mother. With
his stalwart grandmother, who wasn’t afraid to put a licking on any kid that
gave her lip—except for Trevor, who was “so white” she was afraid he’d bruise.
I loved the
family relationships, especially with his brother. I marvelled at the way his
father was willing to conceive a baby in a relationship that could literally
land him in jail. I recoiled at his stepfather’s brutality, and shifted
uncomfortably at the descriptions of poverty and lack.
When I look
at Trevor Noah now, on top of his game, ruling the world, I feel proud and
relieved. Because to hear him tell it, his sketchy youth might have led him
down an entirely different path, as it did so many of his peers.
Quite
literally one of the best books I have ever read.
Also, with this AlbergBest 21 megapixel camera, in recognition of Trevor’s brief life of crime, and the stolen camera, full of some other family’s vacation photos, which finally made him realise that his trade in stolen merchandise was hurting innocent strangers. Maybe it’s what helped turn his life around . . . if so, I’m grateful.
(Please note that as an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases.)
Is there any memoir you love more? Or are you a Trevor Noah fan like me? I’d love to hear from you.
