On Writing: Collaboration And Its Perils

One of Tiptree’s classic stories, “The Women Men Don’t See” may be one of her most celebrated, leading to responses from other writers like Karen Joy Fowler’s “What I Didn’t See” (Kindle version) and my own “Clockwork Fairies” (Kindle version). Tiptree uses her titles to maximum effect and you’ll notice that each of these beginnings interacts in a significant way with the title preceding it.

The title plays off nearly every line: “I see her first,” (who? is it one of the women from the title?) “a double female blur,” “the near blur,” “the younger blur, “registering nothing,” finishing up with “I never would have looked at them or thought of them again,” at which point the reader is screaming why? why don’t you see them? The answer to that question is crucial to the story.

Here’s another Tiptree beginning, this time of “Houston, Houston, Do You Read?” which uses the strategy of referring to a memory to reveal the conflict. The memory is connected to gender and embarrassment, which will also turn out to be crucial to the story.

Lorimer gazes around the big crowded cabin, trying to listen to the voices, trying also to ignore the twitch in his insides that means he is about to remember something bad. No help; he lives it again, that long-ago moment. Himself running blindly — or was he pushed? –into the strange toilet at Evanston Junior High. His fly open, his dick in his hand, he can still see the gray zipper edge of his jeans around his pale exposed pecker. The hush. The sickening wrongness of shapes, faces turning. The first blaring giggle. Girls. He was in the girls’ can.

“Houston, Houston, Do You Read” is Tiptree at her best, examining gender norms and conventions with a ruthless, scathingly honest eye. Somehow that first moment of embarrassment, that moment of being in “the strange toilet” encapsulates so much of what that story is about and how alien the sexes can be to each other as well as how strange their container, the norms that make them up, which constitute the walls of “the can” itself, are. Look at how the center of his masculinity is framed visually: the gray zipper edge of his jeans around his pale exposed pecker. There is so much going on in that first paragraph, including sensory details like the twitch of his insides, the blare of a giggle, the pattern and threat of a zipper, that it’s worth copying out, pulling apart sentence by sentence to figure out how it’s working.

Let’s finish up with Tiptree in a moment that puts everything up front, in the short story “We Who Stole the Dream”:

The children could survive only twelve minims in the sealed containers.

Woah. We don’t know what’s going on precisely, but we know crucial details. We have a deadline and it is only twelve minims. While we don’t know how long a minim is, we know it’s not much time because of that “only”. Plus, there’s an auditory echo of “minute” that makes us think they’re of similar length.

What’s at stake? This lives of children, for pete’s sake. Not just child, but children, multiple. And we know how they’ll die: suffocation. It would be hard to write a tauter, more dire beginning.

Writing exercise: write three first lines. They can state the stakes, as in the third example, or refer to some memory or object that encapsulates the conflict, as with the example from “Houston, Houston, Do You Read?” Include two titles for each, one that plays off the beginning and one that does not.

For bonus points, read “The Women Men Don’t See” and use that as your inspiration.

Feel free to post some of your best first lines on here, I’d love to see some!

Sent out a story to an audio market.

More on Circus In the Bloodwarm Rain (novel): 574

Prairie Dog Town (working title)(story): 715 words. I’ve rounded the 3k mark on this, and think I’m in the home stretch. I want to finish it soon, so I have a few days to lay it aside and let it cool before I pick it up to polish as the next Patreon story.

Letters to My Father (story): 474 words, which finished it off, and sent it back to my charming collaborator/spouse.

Carpe Glitter (story): 457  words, still a long way to go.

Total wordcount: 2220. As always I may try to get in a little more tonight, but probably not.

New Spanish vocabulary: a la parilla (grilled), la acera (the sidewalk), el barro (the mud), el largato (the lizard), la libreria (the bookstore)

Today’s been gorgeous and sunny, though very hot. We walked to Taco Bar for lunch, and found the food both delicious and a pretty good bargain. Then past the super mercado for dinner supplies and the trudge back home.

As noted on Twitter, I’ve been reading The Wheel of Time series since embarking on this trip, and I’ve finally hit the Brandon Sanderson part. Between that and spending so much time in travel, I haven’t had much time to read anything else, but I did finish up the first two books of Jeff VanderMeer’s Southern Reach trilogy, Authority and Annihilation, which I highly recommend. The final volume, Acceptance, comes out September 2.