storytelling

I don't like to write about money much; it's a subject that others (particularly those who are most concerned with the business side of publishing) blog about at length and in more detail than I could manage. Sometimes I think about the possibility of following one of my novels through the whole process -- from contract and advance to the day it goes out of print -- but I'm not sure I have the courage to do this, and also, I have the idea that my agent and editor and publisher might not like it.

However: I do have a new contract in the works, which would be a great place to start such an experiment, but I'd have to clear it with everybody. But first: any interest in that? Wanna know how much money one of my novels makes, how and when and where it sells, etc etc?

It is true that once in a while I'll go off on one of my contemplations regarding used books, and royalties, and all that. For a different perspective from mine, and also a good story about royalties, have a look at this post from Scott Westerfield, who writes young adult novels. This isn't a hint, for those of you who might have borrowed or lent out my novels; it's just another take on things, in an interesting voice.

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I get the idea that we are going to be seeing more movies that deal with the history of Africa in the last fifty years. Sometimes the only way to get people to pay attention is to wrap up the less-than-pretty truth in a story that is visually palatable.

So we have beautiful Nicole Kidman as the spoonful of sugar in some very unpleasant medicine. She is Silvia Broome, the daughter of a white South African and a Brit. She grew up in the fictional nation of Motobo in southern Africa and speaks many languages of that area fluently, which helped her land a job as an interpreter at the UN. She overhears two men talking about assassinating the Prime Minister of Motobo, who is about to come to the UN to give a speech in a last ditch effort to save himself from being tried by an International Tribunal for ethnic cleansing. Sean Penn plays one of the Secret Service assigned to this threat, and his first job is to figure out the truth about Silvia: is she a victim, or a terrorist, both, or something in between?

This is a well done thriller, tight and intelligent and engrossing, but it's also an exploration of some very serious topics. How is it that victims become victimizers? We see that question from a lot of different angles, but Pollack leaves conclusions up to the audience.

There are some incredible performances here. Nicole Kidman's first and foremost, but also Sean Penn (who, I suspect, I will have to stop disliking -- Ridgemont High was a long time ago). I was also quite struck by Earl Cameron who plays Zuwanie, the dictator called (ominously) The Teacher -- once a visionary and a liberator who turned to genocide to keep himself in power.

Early in the movie, Silvia is talking to Sean Penn's character about loss, something they both have experienced at close hand, when she says what I found to be the most memorable line: Vengeance is a lazy form of grief. In fact, both the main characters are dealing with grief and anger; they are both weary, and frightened. To have had them falling in love would have been an unforgivable cliche, and I was really thankful that Pollack didn't resort to it.

A footnote: Supposedly Zuwanie's character is based quite closely on Robert Mugabe of Zimbabwe, and here's a prediction: (1) most people in the movie theater will be completely unaware of that, and (2) after seeing this movie, those same people will believe they know a great deal about a country called Motobo. But, here's the good news: they will have some sense, at least, of the complexities of the political situation in African nations. Whatever they might be called.

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A beautifully illustrated book is enough to turn me into a puddle of delight, and I know I am not alone in that. So why (let me ask this in a normal tone of voice) are there no museums dedicated to the great illustrators?

This topic came to mind because I just found the toymaker's journal, where I got lost for an hour and could easily spend a lot more time. Marilyn Scott Waters also has an online workshop where you can download paper toys to assemble. Or you could go get her book (The Toymaker: Paper Toys That You Can Make Yourself). I plan to.

If I had a zillion dollars, I'd collect original art from illustrators I adore (all of these having to do with children's books, which brings me to my second question: why can't adults get illustrated books, too?):

I particularly like the brothers Robinson (Thomas Heath, Charles, William Heath) -- who don't nearly enough attention. James Hamilton wrote a book about William Heath Robinson (1872 - 1944), who is considered to be

the greatest comic draftsman of the century. His name became synonymous with outrageously complicated devices for carrying out the most basic tasks, contraptions that he thought out with solemn logic, executed with precision, and explained with the ultimate in deadpan captions.

Monty Python, anyone?

Another artist I really adore is Lisbeth Zwerger (left)

The zillion dollars is not much of an exaggeration. Have a look at storyopolis (an incredible place to browse for children's books, by the way) and the artists whose original work they represent. No matter how much I adore Lisbeth Zwerger, I can't come up with $12,500 for one of her originals. Not if we want to send the girlchild to college.

Helen Oxenbury (right) illustrated Phyllis Root's Big Momma Makes the World, which is right up there with Robert Munsch's The Paperbag Princess as a book to be presented to little girls when they start reading.

Jim LaMarche illustrated Laura Krauss Melmed's The Rainbabies, an all time favorite of mine. It's a beautiful book. I wish I had the final image as a life-size painting.

Finally there's N.C. Wyeth.

Looking at his illustrations can put me into a trance, where I can recall with all five senses what it was like to be a little girl reading in the Lincoln Avenue branch of the Chicago Public Library.

If a genie popped out of a bottle and offered me the choice between a singing voice ala one of the great divas, the ability to churn out novels like Dickens, or the imagination and skill of one of these illustrators, I wouldn't hesitate to put away paper and pen for illustration board and pencil. Of course, the best of both worlds would be to illustrate my own books.

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