You've Got Questions? We've Got...More Questions.
Tuesday, June 16. 2009
I've been feeling a little guilty about my somewhat dismissive response to a good friend's comment on my last blog post. Essentially what happened is: (1) I posed a question, as is my wont in these pages; (2) Craig recommended a source for an authoritative answer; (3) I rejected the answer/source out of hand. So this leads to the thought: why do I ask questions, if not to receive answers?
What I'm really about here, on this blog, is to expand my knowledge and understanding through questioning—with the expectation of arriving at conclusions on my own. My hope is to encounter different viewpoints from the zero or so readers of this blog that I can incorporate into my own answer-seeking. What I don't expect (and tend to reject rather vehemently) is the idea that anyone has pat answers to the questions I'm asking.
I think there's a Greek word for that concept, but I don't know what it is.
Most of the things I wonder publicly about on these pages seem to me not to have a universal answer. Example: how do I connect more reliably with my muse? Craig's link leads to an instructor who says she can teach people how to do that. Er, what? How can such a nebulous concept be standardized across all writers? There may be an answer to this question for me, and when I throw a query like that out it's to get some insights as to how others have answered it, to inform my own search for a solution. But when anyone claims to have an answer that will work for me without modification, I tend to make rude dismissive noises.
There are exceptions, of course. Some of the questions here are more concrete. For example, if anyone knows what that pesky Greek term is, I'd be interested to know it. That is an answer that applies to all, because it addresses basic factual knowledge, not how the mind works, whence comes inspiration, how best to manage time, et al., ad infinitum. These last topics, in my opinion, cannot have absolute answers.
So, Dear Reader (if, in fact, you do exist and are not also a figment of my imagination), please do not hesitate to offer solutions and answers and other such comments on this blog. Just be aware that if the question posed is the least bit philosophical, and the answer offered is the least bit concrete, the scoffing will commence.
I've been feeling a little guilty about my somewhat dismissive response to a good friend's comment on my last blog post. Essentially what happened is: (1) I posed a question, as is my wont in these pages; (2) Craig recommended a source for an authoritative answer; (3) I rejected the answer/source out of hand. So this leads to the thought: why do I ask questions, if not to receive answers?
What I'm really about here, on this blog, is to expand my knowledge and understanding through questioning—with the expectation of arriving at conclusions on my own. My hope is to encounter different viewpoints from the zero or so readers of this blog that I can incorporate into my own answer-seeking. What I don't expect (and tend to reject rather vehemently) is the idea that anyone has pat answers to the questions I'm asking.
I think there's a Greek word for that concept, but I don't know what it is.
Most of the things I wonder publicly about on these pages seem to me not to have a universal answer. Example: how do I connect more reliably with my muse? Craig's link leads to an instructor who says she can teach people how to do that. Er, what? How can such a nebulous concept be standardized across all writers? There may be an answer to this question for me, and when I throw a query like that out it's to get some insights as to how others have answered it, to inform my own search for a solution. But when anyone claims to have an answer that will work for me without modification, I tend to make rude dismissive noises.
There are exceptions, of course. Some of the questions here are more concrete. For example, if anyone knows what that pesky Greek term is, I'd be interested to know it. That is an answer that applies to all, because it addresses basic factual knowledge, not how the mind works, whence comes inspiration, how best to manage time, et al., ad infinitum. These last topics, in my opinion, cannot have absolute answers.
So, Dear Reader (if, in fact, you do exist and are not also a figment of my imagination), please do not hesitate to offer solutions and answers and other such comments on this blog. Just be aware that if the question posed is the least bit philosophical, and the answer offered is the least bit concrete, the scoffing will commence.
What I'm really about here, on this blog, is to expand my knowledge and understanding through questioning—with the expectation of arriving at conclusions on my own. My hope is to encounter different viewpoints from the zero or so readers of this blog that I can incorporate into my own answer-seeking. What I don't expect (and tend to reject rather vehemently) is the idea that anyone has pat answers to the questions I'm asking.
I think there's a Greek word for that concept, but I don't know what it is.
Most of the things I wonder publicly about on these pages seem to me not to have a universal answer. Example: how do I connect more reliably with my muse? Craig's link leads to an instructor who says she can teach people how to do that. Er, what? How can such a nebulous concept be standardized across all writers? There may be an answer to this question for me, and when I throw a query like that out it's to get some insights as to how others have answered it, to inform my own search for a solution. But when anyone claims to have an answer that will work for me without modification, I tend to make rude dismissive noises.
There are exceptions, of course. Some of the questions here are more concrete. For example, if anyone knows what that pesky Greek term is, I'd be interested to know it. That is an answer that applies to all, because it addresses basic factual knowledge, not how the mind works, whence comes inspiration, how best to manage time, et al., ad infinitum. These last topics, in my opinion, cannot have absolute answers.
So, Dear Reader (if, in fact, you do exist and are not also a figment of my imagination), please do not hesitate to offer solutions and answers and other such comments on this blog. Just be aware that if the question posed is the least bit philosophical, and the answer offered is the least bit concrete, the scoffing will commence.
Craig on :
I never made that claim. That would be ludicrous. As a matter of fact, the intent is that you must modify it.
You may never have read any of Holly's novels, and, since she is a mid-list author, you may never have heard of her. But, she has about 32 under her belt, all spec-fic, although a few crossed genre into paranormal suspense. With one hard-cover and two paperbacks released this year, she is current as well.
I'm not saying she is the end-all, be-all guru. But, if you want to be a published writer, why not get advice from a published writer?
BTW, no offense taken. It's just my opinion - not a statement of fact.
Brent on :
No offense to her, either. I certainly respect anyone who's been able to get published. And I do take advice from published writers...but of the "here's a suggestion" variety, not of the "I'll fix that for you" variety. Sorry, that's the way her website came off to me.
"What's the answer to Life, the Universe, and Everything?"
"Why, it's 42."
"Oh, all right, then."
Pat answers about complex subjects strike me as gross oversimplification. Remember, I'm about the potential, not the actual; the striving, not the arriving. I really don't think there are shortcuts.
Of course, it could just be that I'm an idiot, and you should ignore everything I've written here. Just sayin'.