Black or white in black and white

An interesting thought arose when I was working on my new book and introducing a new character.  If my first description of him read ‘Vincent was a tall guy with a shaved head’, what image does that put in your mind? 

Now a trickier question.  What colour skin do you imagine he has?

Does a white person automatically see a white character unless told otherwise?

What if I say, ‘Vincent was a tall, black guy with a shaved head’?

Does that change your perception of Vincent?

But I wouldn’t ever think to say ‘Vincent was a tall white guy’, unless the book was set somewhere that you’d expect the characters to be black, which mine isn’t.

That’s where I started to ponder this question more deeply.  Do we visualise characters to fit our own ethnic groups unless told otherwise?  What colour do you see characters? 

I suppose if you’re reading a book like The Colour Purple, you automatically know what colours the characters are.  But my book is set in Brighton, and has nothing to do with race issues, I just wanted to have a representational cast of characters, and some people in Brighton are black.  It’s no big issue. 

The key bit of information that is constantly drummed into any writer is to ‘show not tell’.  If Vincent was unhappy I could describe his posture and actions to illustrate this.  But how do I show that he just happens to be black?  We do use ‘tell’ words to give a mental picture of a character. 

But is this something that’s an issue for readers who aren’t white?  Is Western literature filled with white characters, and do other races only appear when a political point is being made?  Where are the black heartthrobs in romance?  In fantasy, are all the good guys white?  Are black people over represented in thrillers and crime novels?

This is an issue that I’m still pondering.  Be brave and dive in with feedback or comments.

Why release a second edition?

Wasn’t the first edition ready to release? 

Well yes, but the first edition was written the way an agent asked me to write it.  Against my gut instinct I did what she asked – who’s going to argue with a top agent when they say ‘do this and I’ll represent you.’  It took me three months to do the rewrite and although she liked the rewrite she decided that the book wasn’t quite her thing after all.  Aargh!

Another agent said ‘I enjoyed your chapters – you write fluidly with a well conceived idea that’s dark and intriguing.  But could you make your central character sixteen and resubmit to our children’s department.’  The opening chapter has a woman travelling to Corfu after the death of her mother, and in the following chapters there is quite a lot of sex!  I declined to do that particular rewrite.

I have now written a version that I feel uses the best bits of the rewrite I did for the first agent, but holds on to the structure that the readers from the RNA really liked.  I’m really happy to release this version, and would love to hear from any readers with your feedback.

You can read the new opening and find links to the new edition on my website

www.jarekadams.com

How do I tell you your baby is ugly?

No one would take a look at someone’s new baby and say ‘Yuk, that’s the ugliest kid I’ve ever seen.’  But what should I say to someone when they’ve proudly let me read their book and it just doesn’t work for me?

I’m a firm believer in giving constructive criticism to other writers if my opinion has been asked for, and I always try to give positive comments.  But what do I do when I start reading a book, or even when I’ve made it all the way to the end of a book and I can’t find anything positive to say?  I love reading books by authors I meet on Twitter or other social networking sites, but recently I’ve struggled to finish several books, and one that did finally draw me in ended on a cliffhanger – no, no, no! 

I understand the effort that goes into writing a book, so I really want to be able to say something positive.  I can’t bring myself to write negative reviews or to give 1 star ratings on Amazon, so I remain silent – but is that really helpful?

Maybe it’s just me.  Isn’t reading a book a different experience for each reader?  Maybe others will love your baby, so I’ll just thank you for showing it to me and keep my damn fool mouth shut!

So, what do you do when you read a book you really didn't enjoy?

Are we becoming shut-ins?

So far today I’ve swapped banter with several writers around the globe, and my husband Andy has done an electronics lecture at MIT (Massachusetts), and now he’s giving a tutorial to someone about website management in Boston, and all without leaving the house in Gloucester!

I am very much in love with technology (well most of the time) and love being able to travel online and in my mind, but I am wondering if perhaps we need to get out more?

Poverty is partly the reason for our lack of movement.  Filling the car with fuel or travelling anywhere costs lots of dosh which we haven’t got in oodles at the moment.  There are lots of things I’d love to go and see – theatre, film exhibitions, but when it’s a choice between paying bills or having fun, well unfortunately we don’t actually seem to have a choice – the bills just have to be paid L

I’m sure it’s affecting our writing as neither of us has had any new input for ages – we don’t even watch telly (no license). 

However, this isn’t going to be a complete whinge!  We do both have exciting things in the pipeline, and we are managing to keep ourselves entertained by making wacky videos for YouTube.

We were going out and about doing investigations in various spooky sites, but even that was beyond us this month, so instead we created a short video about the dangers of smoking.  I know lots of you have taken a peek at Loo Roll’s adventure but we haven’t had much feedback yet.  Go on, have a peek and tell us what you think – really - do we need to get out more?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hCVPbYr086Y&feature=youtu.be

APRIL ADVENTURES

Trying to find monthly adventures to go on with my husband, Andy despite having absolutely no money has been quite a challenge.  But it’s also been quite a lot of fun!

We searched through all our reference books for ideas, and yesterday came up with a double adventure.  There is a small churchyard a few miles from our house, which contains one famous resident and on 24^th April the possibility of seeing spectral visitations.

Driving into the tiny village of Haresfield we saw the church steeple in the distance, but couldn’t find our way to the church.  The village was deserted, but then as if by magic a man appeared.  Stopping the car we asked for directions to the church, and the reply came, ‘I’m on my way there now, I’ll meet you there in ten minutes.’

We followed his directions through a closed gate, and along a road marked ‘Strictly Private – No Entry’ and finally came to the church.  Passing the sign warning us of unexpected rabbit holes we quickly got on with videoing ‘Jarek Adams Investigates’ before the man appeared.  He then produced an enormous iron key and let us into the tiny church.  Our eyes were immediately drawn to an ancient oak chest with two further giant iron keys sticking out of the lid.  He explained that in medieval times the vicar held one and the verger held the other, and that the church valuables were stored inside.  Our imaginations immediately worked out how to use this glorious object in our books.  Brighton Bites, which I’m working on at the moment will feature it in a hopefully unexpected way.

The very nice chap also pointed out the empty fields surrounding the really eerie graveyard, and explained that these had been full of houses until medieval times when the plague drove everyone away, leaving the church as it is today in a tranquil island of its own, with only the crows, and our mysterious guide visiting daily.

Although we’d love to have the money to skip off to the Caribbean, our monthly adventures are turning out to be just that.

You can see the video by following this link.

http://youtu.be/7cOyBFVfHg8

     

Spooky coincidence or portent?

What would it be like if we could see the future?  What if there is some pre-set pattern that we’re all following to our eventual demise?  Although I’m not sure I believe that, my recent birthday made me ponder a few strange patterns in my life.

Like the day I woke up with an ominous feeling that I shouldn’t leave the house that day.

Yes, I often wake up feeling like that, but this was different in a way that I couldn’t quite put my finger on.  I was supposed to drive to Cardiff to see a friend, and it would have been easy to cancel the trip, but it seemed stupid to say to my best friend, ‘sorry I can’t see you today, because I’ve got a funny feeling.’  Superstitious nonsense that I chose to ignore.

As it turns out I had a completely uneventful journey, a lovely visit with my friend, and made it all the way home to Gloucester before an uninsured driver ploughed into the back of my car causing over a thousand pounds worth of damage!  Coincidence, or was there something to that feeling of foreboding I woke up with?

Something else made me think about portents a few weeks ago.  My husband is a Londoner, and I grew up in Wales, but we decided to make our home in neither place, choosing to live somewhere in the middle.  We searched several towns for a home, and eventually found our house on Stroud Road in Gloucester.  Along that road, a little way from our house is a small Rose Garden, and I recently discovered that the lovely space we’ve enjoyed since we moved here was created when a house was destroyed after an aeroplane crashed into it.  Although the pilot was killed, 85year old Florence Drury, and her companion 69year old Ethel Hutchins who lived there both stayed downstairs that day and were unhurt.  Did something tell them not to venture upstairs?  But there’s more to this mystery.  We thought our move here was a random decision, but it turns out that the crash happened on the very day I was born.  Spooky coincidence or a strange portent?

Sometimes I just can't help my Welsh Roots poking through

In the Green Valley by Jarek Adams

(To be read out loud in a South Wales Valleys accent)

I add a baaaby

i woz a gorjus ikle thin

I cwched up to er airvry nite

wile she did ave a suck at me

I called er Blodeuedd

the farmer called er mint sorce

silly bugger

talks to me like ee’s my butty sumtimz

E cum rownd with is missis

a rite chopsy bugger

a bit twpt if ewe arsk me

norutorl nice

She pointed to my baaaby un sed

‘be luvverly with moron und pys’

I coon’t buleev my years

I wuz fewmin

I told er, ‘go waaay’

she sed, ‘ark at er

ew d’yew think ewe are?’

‘Thas rite, a bloody ewe I sed!’

I did a crap rite in frunt of er

she gor i on er shoo

and bloody moaned

‘wor a lor of do do they do do’ she sed

Wen I lookt rownd ee’d taken my baaaby

I was fewrius I can tell ewe

iss not wot ew’d call a gud life

next eel be takin the bloody coat off my back

KEY:

Cwch - cuddle

Butty - friend

Chopsy - talkative

Twpt - daft

Moron - carrots

Pys - peas