Well, Homer is still exceedingly cute, and I really haven’t forgotten about the next recipe (I’ve just been writing madly on ECHO; I mean it when I describe this stage as the Final Frenzy; I do precious little else!).
However, I do have to pause for a bit here, because a year or so ago, I agreed to teach a two-and-a-half hour workshop on Writing Historical Fiction, as part of a week of such workshops sponsored by a local group called Arizona Authors. (At the time, of course, I had no idea the FF was going to hit _now_).
Anyway–thought I’d ask, for any of you who might harbor ambitions (or merely curiosity) in this regard, whether there are any specific questions _you’d_ like answered, if you were taking such a workshop, or any particular material you’d like to see covered?
I think we may do a minor bit of writing in the class–can’t do too much, as it takes quite a bit of time, but I’m thinking a few paragraphs might be fun; any topics that you’d suggest? (E.g., introduction of a major character, setting a historical background, etc.?)
Dear Mary-Allison–
I haven’t got the slightest idea how you’d pick a period–but I also can’t visualize how you’d have a story that existed independently of a period and needed to be inserted into one, either. (Mind, I _started_ with nothing but “Scotland, eighteenth century” in mind–and the rather vague images conjured up by the notion of a man in a kilt. [g]
Other folk might be more organized!
Re: Jamie’s inability to hear and comprehend music–
Without going off on a rant here (or just a tiny, modest rant)–The most maddening and depressingly frequent claim that music teachers hear is “I can’t sing.” Sometimes, this comes in the form of the tune and the bucket (the auditory equivalent of art and the straight line). And people are so pleased to tell you that they can’t sing! (You have to wonder–why aren’t people out there cheerfully declaring “I can’t read?” )
Everyone who can speak can sing. Singing is nothing more than extended speech, with pitch and rhythm. The conceit of the “good voice,” or a skill limited to those with “talent,” is recent and culturally driven by exposure to the idea that only people who can do things very well should attempt to do them in public. Enter the American Idol.
Returning to history–people sang themselves across the prairie, without worrying about whether anyone would laugh at their singing. Singing was a way to communicate, pass on stories, bond. Sure, there are trained singers whose performances are more pleasing than the kids on the camp bus. But singing is what we were meant to do, as human beings.
Thus–I was glad to realize that Jamie was brain-damaged, not just falsely modest. (laughing) Did you research the kind of injury (corpus callosum?) that would cause inability to hear pitch?
Nancy -
What about someone who can hear music perfectly well (he’s actually a rather accomplished guitar player, and has more or less taught himself to play piano), can hear when something is in tune or out of tune, but who cannot make his voice mimic the pitch?
It’s not that his voice is “bad” or “good” – it just refuses to do what he wants it to do.
I myself have a very low voice for a woman, and while I have a hard time singing many songs because of this (never learned anything musical, so I have to do it by “ear”), I can usually pitch the song lower and do a perfectly adequate job of it.
He can’t.
Why is this?
Hey, Honey.
You have just described half the boys in my 7th grade choir. It’s not uncommon for people to have difficulty matching pitches with their voice, especially when they’re feeling social discomfort. This is where the “I’m good singing in the shower” idea comes from.
After years of not exercising the ability to move the voice where you want it to go, it’s hard (and embarrassing) to relax and train it to do so. Most people just say “I can’t” and let it go. But anyone with adequate hearing and functional vocal chords can–at the very least–get better at matching pitches.
Little kids are often wildly off pitch when they begin to sing, but with practice (that’s the other essential component) they learn to, as the saying goes, carry a tune reasonably well. Then they hit the 5th grade and discover that only Clay Aiken can sing, and they should just shut up or risk being labeled.
When you spend a lot of time singing, your pitch range expands, and technical training (learning to sing “in your head”) can expand it even further. The coloratura soprano in the opera may have a naturally high voice, but the fireworks at the top end come from training. Many women believe they have a naturally low voice (think Cher) when in fact, a few lessons might make them discover notes they never thought they could hit. Pop songs are often pitched in a low, narrow range (the epitome of this is Britney Spears’ repertoire), because pop singing style tends to use the “chest” voice. If you can sing well by starting a little lower–go for it. I’m happy to hear that you’re singing!
Someone who can’t perceive pitch at all–like Jamie– must have some auditory dysfunction.
Thanks Nancy!
I am most comfortable singing the men’s parts in most songs, but occasionally I can get an alto. My mother is exactly the same way, so it must run in the family.
I’m thinking you’re right about a perceived mental block on singing. Because when he (he of the aforementioned singing inability, also known as my boyfriend) sings his own stuff (songs he’s written), he’s much much better than when he’s singing along with the radio.
Makes it difficult to sing along with him in the car, tho….if he overwhelms the radio, I can’t sing because I pitch myself to whatever or whomever I hear best.
Also reasons why I can’t sit next to a soprano in church. Or if I do, I have to really concentrate to bring it down an octave.
::sigh::
Note to Nancy–
I know what you mean about “learning” to sing. My three siblings and I have always sung together and in school/church choirs but none of us has ever had formal music education. I always thought I had a “nice” voice but nothing to rave about — or even sing solo with. Recently I joined a small community choir in my city directed by an incredible young musician, and through her tutelage I have learned so much about how to use my voice correctly, which in turn has increased my range, quality, tone, et cetera. And learning to breathe correctly for singing has improved other activities as well… hiking and swimming too!
dear Diana; I like your books and I am a faithful reader; I am French Best regards christine (I hope that the translation is correct)
Dear Christine–
Thanks! [smile]
Dear Diana,
Sorry if this is irrelevant, but I recently read that you will be on a book tour, and you mentioned Canada (where I live). Can you please tell me the exact location, because my mom and I would love to be there.
Thank you.
Dear Shara–
Um. If you read it on my website, keep reading. [g] Until you get to the part that says I won’t have an itinerary until the various publishers give them to me–that will be sometime much closer to pub date–and that once I _do_ have any specifics, I’ll be sure to post them.
I wish you would do one in Boston. My question would be how do you effectively handle the arc of the whole series? I have a historical fantasy trilogy coming out from Scholastic and though I know the beginning and the end, the middle has become more than a challenge!
Kat
Dear Kat–
Well, the simple truth is that a) I don’t know [g], and b) to some extent, it’s the historical events that dictate the arc(s) of the story–i.e., in this series, at least, the first three books are defined (in terms of history) by the Jacobite Rising: OUTLANDER deals with Scotland in the lead-up to that war, DRAGONFLY is _about_ the Rising and how it affected both the story’s characters and Scotland itself–and VOYAGER deals with the lingering aftermath of that upheaval, which not only destroyed the Scottish Highland culture, but scattered shards of it all over the world.
The second part of the series then deals with the American Revolution–echoing and amplifying the earlier war. Many, many Highland Scots (and “Scotch-Irish”–these being Scots who had emigrated to Ulster in the previous century) fought in the Revolution, and we see the contrast of ideals between that war and the earlier one–how people fought by choice and from commitment, rather than by obligation and necessity, and what they were fighting _for_: individual liberty and God-given right, rather than to put a particular king on the throne.
That’s oversimplifying, of course–and taking no account of the _personal_ arcs of the characters within the story–but the historical arcs are at least one major strand of the structure of the series.
Don’t know if that might be helpful to you, but fwiw.
HI Diana!
I LOVE writing historical fiction (which I never thought I’d even think of doing until after I became dangerously obsessed with your novels) and – this came as a shock to everyone, especially me – I truly enjoy researching the period. I have done some reading, but I find that incredibly dry most of the time. So … my main sources have been Historical Re-enactors/Anachronists. You know, those people who are even more obsessed than I am about getting every-single-thing-right? The problem I have is that many of the “actors” in different groups have different answers to my questions (i.e. saddles/no saddles, blade lengths, etc). So I battle through and either go with Majority Rules or … This Sounds Better.
I wanted to find out about titles, i.e. Milord/Milady, My Lord, etc … who used what, when and to whom? I never could get anything useful on that one.
May I please put in a very big, strong vote for a podcast on your class? (I know you won’t know until after the FF, but I thought I’d place a vote anyway)
My stories seem to flow from themselves … how do you know that you have 2 more Outlanders and then a 3 book prequel? Do you know the outcome(s) ahead of time?
I’ve always wondered … when Sara/Rosina bumped into your characters, how did you feel about that? I’ve been SO tempted to do that in my first novel.
Thanks for all you do. You’re an inspiration! I hope your tour brings you to Nova Scotia this time.
Dear Genevieve–
Well, let’s see…
Rosina/Sara is a friend I knew on Compuserve lo, these many years back. She was writing her first book at the time, and those of us who were writers all tended to discuss what we were doing. I’d mentioned at some point that I intended to deal with the battle of Saratoga in a future book (though I didn’t know at the time how _far_ in the future [wry g]), and some time later, Rosina emailed me privately with a brief scene she’d written, in which one of her characters–speaking twenty years after the battle (her book is set in the 1790′s, I believe)–is recollecting a minor incident that happened then, in which a woman known as “the White Witch” came across the lines with her husband, Colonel Fraser and her husband’s nephew, and took care of a little boy who was sick.
(That’s it. She isn’t “using” Claire and Jamie as characters; they don’t speak or do anything _in_ her story; they’re just referred to by one of her characters. The whole mention occupies perhaps two paragraphs, if that.)
Anyway, she showed me the scene and said she’d done it on an impulse, but wouldn’t include the scene if I had any objection. I laughed and said–since she wasn’t in fact “using” my characters, but only mentioning them as though they were real historical people of the period–that I thought it was fine; go ahead and see whether anybody noticed.
Anyway, about titles–British titles, anyway–there’s a helpful book called FORMS OF ADDRESS, which lists all the ranks of British nobility (and their wives and children) and tells you how to refer to the wife of a Marquis, or what the second son of a duke’s title is, versus the title for the daughter of an earl. I’m not where my books are at the moment, so can’t give you the specific publishing information, but if you remind me in a couple of weeks, when I can get back in my office (it’s being remodeled at the moment, and I can’t get at any of my books. argh), I’ll get that for you.
P.S. No, I have no idea what’s going to happen in the books, and I don’t plan them out ahead of time. (I also _don’t_ have “a 3 book prequel”–there’s just one novel, composed of three novellas; or at least that’s what I think right now. Could be different, when I come to write it. [g])
Hi again, Diana
Is this the book to which you were referring?
http://www.formsofaddress.info/
Look what I found while I was googling that:
http://www.irishroots.com/id4276.htm
cool, huh?
I hope your office renos are coming along well. There’s nothing like dry wall and dust to clog up the creative juices, I think.
When going back in time, say before 1300, when we really don’t know what normal conversation sounded like, how much do you depend on modern (c. 1700 and later) colloquialisms to create your dialog?
What is the best advice that you have found most helpful in your writing career? I’m starting my journey as a historical fiction novelist, what can you tell me from your years of experience?
Hi, Felix,
Diana’s most helpful advice IMHO is: “Writing is an active skill; the only way to learn is to do it, to actually sit down and write every day.” I think that is the best advice ever for a new writer.
And Diana has LOTS of writing tips and examples of how she does it on her Writer’s Corner webpage at:
http://www.dianagabaldon.com/resources/what-i-do/
Scroll down that webpage to “How To Write – Tips For Aspiring Authors,” a great place to start. Diana’s Writer’s Corner is always accessible under the Resources menu on her website.
Best of luck in your endeavors!
Loretta
Diana’s Webmistress