I know you’re wondering why I still believe, when it comes to electronics, “If it wasn’t for bad luck, I wouldn’t have any luck at all.” I think you’ll understand after you read this.
I like HP products because they’re supposed to be simple, easy to set up and easy to use. To me that says, “This is something I can do on my own.”
When I was at Costco last week, they were having a sale on HP printers. I thought, “This is my lucky day: $60 off a $169 printer. This is for me.” It was an especially good deal because it was actually an “All-In-One”. Besides printing, it could fax, copy and scan. I was going to have state-of-the-art everything!
When I got home, I opened the box and looked at the first few pages in the Quick Start Manual. It was an “Ah Ha” moment. I realized I was in way over my head. But, not to worry, fortunately my husband loves challenges like this.
Michael didn’t even look at the Quick Start Manual. He told me he didn’t need to. Everything was quite simple and he’d have it, “All set up in about half an hour.” Well, half an hour came and went and then an hour and… You get the idea. It was all plugged in and sitting on the counter. It just wasn’t printing!
The next day he phoned Costco. He talked to several people. They were all very nice. He was on the phone with the last man there for over an hour, maybe two. Who’s counting in a situation like this? Nothing would print. Finally the man gave Michael a Case Number and connected him on a special Costco line to HP so we wouldn’t have to pay extra for the advice we were going to get.
There were a number of phone calls. Michael tried this and that. HP sent him to a different person several time. Bottom line, at the end of the next day the printer had yet to print.
Finally, and in defeat, the HP consultant said, “It’s a hardware problem. Take the printer back to Costco and get another one. It’s not working.”
So he returned the printer to Costco, and this time, before he left the store, he insisted on opening the box and trying it out there.
It worked. He brought it home. Plugged it in. Made a few adjustments and it’s just like the saying goes, “Plug and play.”
So, after going through all this, I still believe, when it comes to electronics, “If it wasn’t for bad luck, I wouldn’t have any luck at all.”
With less than one week before my first public reading, I panic. Oh sure, I’ve read at writers workshops, but other writers expect flat expressionless words and concentrate on the print. I usually flub a few words, stumble along internally editing as I read and neglect any attention to how I sound. I’m a terrible reader, and now I’m subjecting an innocent and unsuspecting audience not only to my words but also my reading.
My story of 1500 words takes almost fifteen minutes to read aloud. Ten minutes is the ideal length according to Randy Susan Meyer of the Huffington Post in “Ten Tips for Writers Reading in Public.” Now if I could channel my inner George Saunders, I might finish in five minutes. He races through the audio recordings of his stories in the Tenth of December. His reading pace creates “excitement” which is one of the goals for writers reading in public.
Meyer recommends to either “entertain, enlighten, excite, engage” and always smile. From the four E’s, I decide to “engage” the audience. Eye contact is the key. And if I remember to smile, that’s an added bonus.
Now comes the tough part – practicing. I find an old copy of my story with critique comments. My writing group’s questions, comments and quandary float in the margins of my hardcopy. The comments are my target list of places to add extra emphasis and accomplish the equivalent of saying, “Don’t miss this. It’s important.”
I underline words and mark places for voice inflection. My story becomes a musical score with crescendos and decrescendos. I add a few staccatos and mark the tempo changes fast and slow.
My biggest struggle is conveying changes in speakers – the ones without attribution tags. In print, a reader can see the carriage return to the next line. My solutions include moving a non-verbal action by the speaker to the beginning of the sentence, pausing before changing speakers, and varying the rate of speech for each character.
I draw on what I learned at previous jobs. Big companies with hordes of human relations people — scheduling training every time you stand from your desk to fetch a cup of coffee — develop employees with twenty-first century skills, such as presenting and communicating. I benefit from years of presentations and public speaking classes.
Thank you HR. I love you and take back all the mean things I said
about your training programs. You made me a better person.
I know how to stand and where to look. Practice eliminates little distractions, such as turning or flipping pages. My pages are in a leather binder to prevent my shaking hands from spoiling the illusion that I know what I’m doing.
Writer’s Relief, “Open Mike Night: Ten Tips For Reading Your Writing In Public,” provides useful tips: arrive early, use a big font, and dress professionally. As a writer, however, I want to know how early, how big and what is considered a writer’s professional clothes. Will I have a podium to set my notes? Or will I stand alone behind a microphone? I choose slacks and heels and rock the “I just left the office thirty minutes ago” look.
My preparation includes watching videos of accomplished writers at public readings. I’m fascinated by Sherman Alexie. Critics call him a stand-up comic. He writes. He jokes. He makes films. He entertains.
Writers Relief also advises what appears to be obvious. “Maintain an audible volume.” At my reading, my personal cheering section sits beside me. When another writer stands to read, one of my cheerleaders whispers, “Read louder and slower than that.”
Thanks to my pre-worries and research, my nervousness disappears when I begin reading. I make eye contact and people smile at me. At one point in the reading, I notice the room is silent and listening. This wonderful audience cares about my crazy made-up characters. They laugh at the right spots and respond with thunderous applause. Thank you, gracious audience. Then, I remember to smile.
Tags: Public readings, Randy Susan Meyers, Huffington Post, Writer’s Relief, George Saunders, Sherman Alexie
I buy most of my hair products at Ulta3. I find the people who work there helpful in suggesting the right product for what I need. I also like their sales. My favorite is the one where, if you buy two of something, the third one is free.
Last November I needed some hairspray. I went to Ulta3 and talked with one of the saleswomen. “What hairspray would work best on fine hair that has a mind of its own? I want something to hold it in place. But I don’t want to look like I have a steel helmet on.”
The salesgirl suggested one of the Paul Mitchell products.
I wasn’t sure. “What if it doesn’t work for me? Or, what if I don’t like the way I look?” I asked.
She told me, “Don’t worry”. It’s a Buy 2, Get 1 Free sale. If you’re unhappy, you can bring the unused product back with the receipt and exchange it for something you like.”
That sounded fine. I bought three cans.
When I got home, I put the cans in the bathroom closet because I hadn’t yet finished with the old hairspray I was using.
A few weeks ago, I finally finished the old hairspray and started using one of the new ones. At first it was o.k. But, after a few days, I wasn’t happy with how my hair looked or felt: It felt hard, not fresh and silky, and looked dried out, just like I had a steel helmet on my head. I decided to give it a few more days but nothing improved.
I searched for my receipt, put it and the other two cans in the Ulta3 bag and went back to the store. Once there, I walked to where the Paul Mitchell products are kept and located the hairspray that I was bringing back. I looked around on the shelf to see if they had something else that would look and feel softer on my hair. I read the descriptions on the back of the cans. Finally I found one that sounded good.
I stopped the saleswomen I saw walking by. I told her my problem and asked, “Will this other hairspray work for me?”
“Well,” she said, “The new spray won’t hold your hair as well but it will feel soft and natural.”
I walked to the front of the store to make the exchange. I explained what I wanted to do and the cashier said with a smile, “No problem.” To me, that’s the universal sign that very soon something’s going to go wrong.
The saleswoman entered the product information into the cash register and called for her manager to put in her code to complete the exchange.
The manager came up front. “You know,” she said. “It’s too hard to do it this way. I know an easier way.”
“Fine.” I said. I just wanted to complete the sale and get going. I hadn’t planned on spending this much time at the store.
The manager started ringing up the hairspray. First she swiped the bar codes on the cans I was returning. Then she punched a number of keys. After that she stopped and gazed at the cash register. Lastly, she cancelled everything out and started over.
I watched her do this three times while trying to discreetly peek at my watch to see what time it was now. This was taking much longer than I’d expected.
After the third attempt, something must have gone right, because she asked me to hand her the two new cans of hairspray that I wanted to purchase. She swiped them.
I looked at her expectantly. It looked like everything would be o.k. after all. But then she undid everything and started over again.
At that point I couldn’t help myself. I very obviously looked at my watch. I’d been in the store for almost half an hour.
I looked at the manager again. She was still swiping and pushing buttons on the cash register. I asked her, “What seems to be the problem?”
“The cash register keeps saying you owe a penny in tax, but you don’t.”
“That’s fine. Don’t worry. I’ll pay it.”
“No. You don’t owe it,” she said.
“I don’t care. I’m happy to help fund the government. I’ll pay it.” I put a penny on the counter.
“Are you sure? You really don’t have to do this.”
“I want to.” I picked up my bag with the new hairspray and walked out the door. I felt I had escaped.
“Good-bye then, and really good-bye!” said Gandalf, and he turned his horse and rode down into the West. But he could not resist the temptation to have the last word. Before he had passed quite out of hearing he turned and put his hands to his mouth and called to them. They heard his voice come faintly: “Good-bye! Be good, take care of yourselves— and DON’T LEAVE THE PATH!”[i]
J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Hobbit is a story that I never seem to tire of re-reading. Written as a children’s story (300 pages) in 1937, with it’s dragon, dwarves, elves, magic, and—of course—it’s hobbit, the novel stands the test of time today, and I suspect will engage future generations of readers well beyond the 22nd century.
It is not the Peter Jackson’s polarizing interpretation, which will conclude with the final installment of The Hobbit on December 17, 2014. As enjoyable is I thought the series thus far, the tone is certainly different. The high octane and visually stunning movies are no G-Rated experience.
The Hobbit is light compared to the Lord of the Rings trilogy (LOTR). But this is for good reason as LOTR is a grim story of sacrifice and fortitude to save the world from eternal darkness. Engaging story in it’s own right, LOTR is filled with history and lore, complex characters fighting for their souls and free will—Boromir, Frodo, and Gollum—just to name a few. Whereas the Hobbit is meant to draw children of all ages—from youth to adult. The experiences are both risky and dangerous, yet reassuring as Tolkien acts as a guide along the way.
How did Tolkien craft a story that has such lasting staying power? What lessons can we learn from him to infuse into your and my craft? That is the path we will follow, laid out by Tolkien by way of three technical craft skills from his writer’s toolkit:
The Aside: Author conversation with the reader
Humor
Protagonist identification with the readers
The Aside: Author conversation with the reader
History and lore is the backdrop of the Hobbit, but it’s not on full display as with LOTR. There is some storytelling about the Misty Mountains in Bilbo’s Hobbit hole, and songs are sung by Dwarves and Elves that reflect their respective cultures. Tolkien deliberately excludes the role of lecturer, keeping the story simple with rich world development that hints at the hidden treasure just beneath the surface.
At different points in the story, Tolkien breaks from 3rd person point of view of the characters to himself talking to the reader. At these times, he shares short details that the characters could not know. His intent seems to give the reader a broader context of the world, or a heightened sense of the desperate situations the 14 adventurers were in because they lack the knowledge that Tolkien, the author, shared with the reader.
Gollum: “What iss he, my preciouss?” whispered Gollum (who always spoke to himself through never having anyone else to speak to).[ii]
Later in the Mirkwood forest, the adventurers kept finding lights and song. But when they drew near, all would go dark, and the lights and song would reappear in the distance. About this, Tolkien tells the reader:
“The feasting people were Wood-elves, of course. These are not wicked folk. If they have a fault it is distrust of strangers. Though their magic was strong, even in those days they were wary. They differed from the High Elves of the West, and were more dangerous and less wise.”[iii]
Humor
The Hobbit is on the surface a story about dwarven revenge and reclamation of their identity. Thorin leads 12 dwarves to return to the Misty Mountain where Smaug the dragon sleeps. Long ago, at the height of dwarven power, Smaug swooped in and single-handedly wiped out the Dwarf and Human kingdoms. He ate most of Thorin’ s people and usurped the Misty Mountains as his home. This story could easily have been a dark tale of vengeance, deadly combat, political intrigue, and—Oh wait…it is all of these without the “darkness.”
Tolkien keeps the story light by taking grim events and inserting humor that keeps off the edginess that comes with monsters and life & death situations. In chapter two, Roast Mutton, the 14 adventurers encounter 3 trolls.
These brutes are dangerous, with more hunger than brains, capture the dwarves and Bilbo, and immediately make dinner preparations. The trolls bicker like siblings, and are sucked into a conversation with a hidden Gandalf (unlike the movie part 2, where it’s Bilbo) about how best to cook dwarves for the best flavor.
“Trolls simply detest the very sight of dwarves (uncooked).”[iv]
In “Riddles in the Dark” (Chapter 5), Gollumn—the tragic loner, sociopath—talks to his bad self about how best to cook Bilbo during a riddle contest. Bilbo wins with a questionable riddle, which Gollum should have appealed if only there were decent instant replay.
“What have I got in my pocket?” he said aloud. [Bilbo] was talking to himself, but Gollum thought it was a riddle, and he was frightfully upset. “Not fair! not fair!” he hissed. “It isn’t fair, my precious, is it, to ask us what it’s got in its nassty little pocketses?” Bilbo seeing what had happened and having nothing better to ask stuck to his question, “What have I got in my pocket?” he said louder.[v]
In Chapter 9, “Barrels out of Bond”, the dwarves are locked in the dungeon of the Wood-Elves, where they can expect to live out their remaining years because their leader is too stubborn to compromise with the elven king. Fortunately, Hobbit with magical ring that turns the wearer invisible + elves partying late into the night with wine = dwarves escape in the empty wine casks. Irony?
“Come give us a taste of your sleeping-draught before we fall to! No need to wake the turnkey yonder. He has had his share by the looks of it.” Then they [Wood-Elves] drank once round and became mighty merry all of a sudden.[vi]
Protagonist identification with the readers
While the surface story is about the adventure, the internal story that is the magical glue that makes the novel worth reading again, and again, is Bilbo. Tolkien crafts a character that the reader can identify with. The title character is someone we look at and say “there but for the grace of God could be me.” Don’t believe me? Consider when Gandalf laments (insincerely one might suspect) that he can’t find anyone to go off on an adventure:
“I am looking for someone to share in an adventure that I am arranging, and it’s very difficult to find anyone.”
If some eccentric old dude that you’ve heard was good at producing fireworks events propositioned you to drop everything and go on a trip with no guarantee of returning alive, would you answer differently?
“I should think so— in these parts! We are plain quiet folk and have no use for adventures. Nasty disturbing uncomfortable things! Make you late for dinner! I can’t think what anybody sees in them,” said our Mr. Baggins[vii]
Tolkien creates in Bilbo Baggins someone who lives a normal life, without life and death decisions to make every day. Bilbo thrust himself into a group of dwarves and a wizard for what the possibility of adventure might unfold. He doesn’t know if it’ll be good or bad, but he believes he’ll regret not going for the rest of his life. Bilbo is a civilian among seasoned warriors. He has an unrealistic idea of the travels ahead, but he maintains an endearing personality throughout his experiences on the road. Such as on first seeing Trolls, which Tolkien emphasizes Bilbo’s naiveté with humor:
“But they were trolls. Obviously trolls. Even Bilbo, in spite of his sheltered life, could see that: from the great heavy faces of them, and their size, and the shape of their legs, not to mention their language, which was not drawing-room fashion at all, at all.”[viii]
Bilbo is like us, minus needing size 50 shoes, not that hobbits need shoes. By the end of the story, Thorin, thus far consumed with revenge and regaining the wealth of his home, on his death bed realizes the true value of Bilbo:
“There is more in you of good than you know, child of the kindly West. Some courage and some wisdom, blended in measure. If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world. But sad or merry, I must leave it now. Farewell!”[ix]
How do 13 dwarves + 1 hobbit expect to defeat a dragon where two kingdoms failed? Well, it is a children’s story. Tolkien keeps it light through humor that leads us to believe, “Well, they’ll think of something—providing they survive Orcs (think muscle-bound human with a pig’s head) on wargs (gigantic wolves), giant spiders, 3 armies, and… oh… a fire-breathing dragon who eats kingdoms after a good nap.
I know you’re wondering why I still believe, when it comes to electronics, “If it wasn’t for bad luck, I wouldn’t have any luck at all.” I think you’ll understand after you read this.
