Recently, I read a fantasy novel that I liked quite a bit more than I should have. The characters were pretty flat, the book wasn’t edited very well, and a lot of the happenings were unrealistic for the world and the characters as established by the author. However, I found myself entertained by the book for one reason – it was clearly inspired by the Biblical story of David, and I wanted to see how many of the parallels the author was going to bring in. Looking for allusions to this classic story, and being pleased every time I found one, made me consider this style of storytelling more closely.

When you already know a story, reading it again is like talking with an old friend. You know what the story’s personality is, you know (roughly) how it’s going to end, you know what the major twists are and how various characters should interact with each other. But adapting an old story to a new context is like meeting an old friend in an alternate universe. You know what you expect to happen, but you don’t know quite what will be different.

Spock might have a beard and be callously evil.

Sherlock Holmes might be a high-functioning sociopath who uses a smart-phone.

The Wicked Witch of the West might have gone to school with Glinda the Good.

And these are universes that are still similar enough to our own to immediately recognize that the story you’re reading is a direct adaptation of one you’re familiar with. More subtle ways of incorporating old stories into new contexts can be seen in the works of Gail Carson Levine, whose Ella Enchanted is one of my favorite retellings of the story of Cinderella. In this style of storytelling, the most important plot and character points from the original work are kept, but the story is so different from the original that readers or hearers are kept busy finding similarities and drawing parallels between the two works rather than finding differences.

For instance, in Ella Enchanted, Ella (Cinderella) is stuck under the thumb of her evil stepmother and two evil stepsisters, falls in love with Prince Char (Charming), goes to a ball with the help of her fairy godmother, and eventually lives happily ever after. BUT, more importantly, Ella’s main goal throughout the book is to break the curse that has been put on her since the time she was a baby – a curse of having to obey any direct order she is given. Add in an impulsive fairy, a flair for linguistics, evil trolls, clever elves, a boarding school, and a great deal of adventure, and the elements of Cinderella are deftly embedded in a larger, grander novel that leaves readers wondering what will happen next. Further, it delights readers as they see how this plot works together with the fairy tale they know and love.

Moving further away from the original text, authors can take old stories and run with them, as Disney is fond of doing. For instance, The Lion King is a “Disney-ized” version of Hamlet, its sequel was a retelling of Romeo and Juliet, and the company’s most recent film, Frozen, was (very) loosely based on Hans Christian Andersen’s The Snow Queen. Each of these films was a startling success, due in no small part to the power of the story behind them.

As an author, I think an interesting challenge is to take a well-known story, pull out the parts that are essential to it, and see what would be different if it happened in a new context. The stories that are still with us today are those that speak to the human condition and to deep truths. Retelling them, then, or being inspired by them to tell a mostly-new story that still feels familiar, is a worthy endeavor – and one that I, as a reader, very much enjoy. What do you think? Leave a comment below!

Happy New Year! I hope you all had a wonderful holiday season and that your 2014 is off to a fantastic start. For me, 2013 was an incredible year as an author, a year of big changes and lots of learning experiences. I’d like to begin this year’s Savvy Saturday blog posts by sharing with you a few of the things I learned.

First: It takes a lot of work to get a book published. I’d theoretically known this before, but it’s incredibly different reading about all the steps (e.g. formatting, cover art, back cover copy) and actually going through it. I’m grateful to the folks at BorderStone Press, then, for taking care of the myriad details that went into turning The Quest of the Unaligned from an electronic Microsoft Word document into a real paperback book.

Second: It takes a lot of work before and after a book is published to get anyone interested in buying it. In other words, marketing matters – and it’s time consuming. This is a side of being an author that many people aren’t aware of. Even big-name authors are being required to do some of their own marketing now, and authors that work with small publishing firms are responsible for nearly all of their own publicity. This realization led me to creating an online social media presence – from Facebook and Twitter to LinkedIn, Tumblr, and this blog.

Unfortunately, it’s also really hard to figure out which aspects of marketing one’s book work, and which are just a waste of an author’s writing time. The best strategy, novelist marketing gurus say, is to keep writing and publishing. A first book is rarely monetarily successful, but with every new book, an author can attract new fans who will then (hopefully) want to purchase the other books he or she has written. If one is a full-time writer, coming out with a book every year or two is a great plan. If one is a graduate student, it is a laughable plan. Sorry. Rest assured that I plan to continue writing and pursuing publication for my work, but it has to happen in between Ph.D. research papers and teaching undergraduate classes.

Third: No book is ever perfect. There are a few typos in The Quest of the Unaligned which still irk me every time I see them, and that book was gone over with a fine-toothed comb by professional editors as well as my friends and family. But that’s life. A misplaced comma isn’t going to kill anyone, and – here’s another thing I learned – most people don’t care. This leads to the fourth point.

Fourth: Even if it isn’t perfect, there’s nothing like holding your own published novel in your hands, and knowing that you’ve brought enjoyment to other people by doing something you love – telling a story. Seeing my Amazon ratings change when people buy a copy of my book, interacting with fans, and answering questions about my world and characters asked by people who actually care, is an amazing experience. My goal with The Quest of the Unaligned, as I’ve mentioned before, was to sell at least one copy to someone I didn’t personally know and have them enjoy it. This goal – modest, I admit – has been more than exceeded. And that’s fantastic.

As I go forward into 2014, my goals as an author are realistic rather than optimistic. During this season of my life, I’m a Ph.D. student first and a novelist second. I plan to finish the set of five short stories set in Alepago, and either write a new set of short stories or keep working on my novel set in that world. It depends on how much mental energy I have. In addition, I plan to continue doing these blog posts, though the day on which they are published may change from Saturdays to a week-day. My last goal is to continue building relationships with you, my readers. I look forward to continuing interacting with you on social media and through this blog. On that topic, if you have anything you specifically want me to write about – any questions to answer or ideas to explore – let me know in the comments or on Facebook! Whatever I am able to write this year, it is my hope that it will eventually give you an adventure that grips you, characters you can fall in love with, and a story that sticks with you long after the book is over. Many thanks for your continued support, and happy 2014!

This week at school has been incredibly busy for me, mostly due to my being sick and thus needing more than eight hours of sleep a night to function at even a remotely near-human level of productivity. (Dreams of superhuman levels of productivity are sadly currently as far out of reach as California sunshine.) On the bright side, however, some of the articles I’ve been needing to read and summarize for my Ph.D. seminars would make surprisingly good novel settings. Here, I’ll show you. Prepare to be inducted into the world of top-tier marketing literature, via a novelist’s point of view.

Example 1.

Megan Erikson has a problem. A big one. In fact, it’s fourteen feet long.

It’s her kitchen table – and it doesn’t fit into her new house.

“We could cut it down to size,” her husband, Reece, suggests, but this is unthinkable. That table has been part of Megan’s life since she was a child. Growing up in a large family, she remembers long nights of laughter and tears spent around the kitchen table, can still see the stains on it from spilled hot chocolate when they were cold and chicken soup when they were sick, spilled paint and glue from craft projects, and the less visible stains from spilled love. So much love, spilled over from her brothers and sisters and mother and father when they gathered around the table and prayed during Bible Studies or before meals, and since then spilled from her own heart out to her children, as they laugh and play, and yes, fight, around the table just as she did. The table, all fourteen feet of it, is part of who her family is.

Her children agree. “We can’t cut the table!” little Samantha wails, and Megan agrees. “It would be like amputating my arm. We can’t make the table normal; there’s nothing normal about it, just like there’s nothing normal about our family. The table’s special, just like we are.”

“But it doesn’t fit in the dining room,” Reece points out. This is an incontrovertible fact. Unfortunately, the house can’t be changed any more than the table can – the Erikson family is moving back into Reece’s childhood farm, and the house has just as much meaning to him as the table does to Megan. The decision is made to move the table into a different room in the house, but it doesn’t quite fit there…just like Megan’s family isn’t quite able to keep its old routines and habits without the table that was the center of their family identity. A new house and a new life will make the Eriksons lean on each other more than they’ve ever had to before, and as they struggle to adapt, they’ll all need to come to terms with what it means to be a family, with or without their traditions.

(With apologies to Epp and Price, in the Journal of Consumer Research (2010), pages 820-837)

Moving on…Example 2.

Whirrrr! Stuart grins as he shows off his top of the line power-tool. “Sweet, isn’t it?” he asks as he turns it off. “I picked it up last week at the hardware store. They have really knowledgeable people over there; they showed me exactly what I needed for my next project.” Stuart gestures around his workshop – a corner of the garage neatly packed with expensive, high-quality craftsman tools. “I’m thinking I’m going to build another cabinet to go with the one I made a few months ago,” he continues. “Not to brag, but I think I’m the only professor I know who’s a real craftsman outside of the classroom. You wouldn’t believe the compliments I’ve gotten on the first cabinet – from my wife, from her friends, heck, even from the other guys at the office. It really bumps me up a notch or two, you know, when they see that I can do real work as well as write and teach.”

***

Louis curses as he tightens the loose segment on the pipe. “This is the third time this year I’ve had to fix that stupid faucet,” he grumbles. “Work, work, work, that’s all I ever do. Work at the factory, then come home and my wife hands me this stupid list of things that I need to fix at home. The work never stops, does it?” He wipes one meaty hand on his forehead. “Not that I’m complaining. It’s part of my job to take care of the stuff that breaks. What kind of a provider for my family would I be if we had to live in a house with leaky faucets?” He gives the wrench a final sharp twist and sticks it back in his well-worn box of tools. “I’d never pay someone to fix things around the house,” he continues, looking disdainful as he talks. “Maybe electric work, yeah, or fancy stuff like that, but not normal repair. What kind of a man can’t keep his own roof from leaking? Not the kind my old man raised. We’re real men in my family.”

Stuart and Louis’s lives couldn’t be more different, even when they’re hammering away at a DIY project at home. But when a hurricane blows through town, they find themselves each leading a volunteer crew to repair the university where Stuart teaches and Louis’s son attends. An intense rivalry and competition ensues, raising questions of what it means to be successful, to provide for one’s family, and to be a man in modern America.

(With apologies to Moisio, Arnould, and Gentry, in the Journal of Consumer Research (2013), pages 298-316)

For those of you who are interested, there are many more articles like these out there – ones I’ve read recently involve Harley motorcycle clubs, Vietnamese weddings, Star Trek conventions, and even home decorators (It’s apparently “nonnegotiable” to buy fresh flowers to decorate your home each week. Flowers set “a standard for attention to detail…that enlivens the senses and invigorates our vision.” This is in addition to arranging one’s bookshelves by color, or putting a white dust jacket on all your books so they don’t clutter the look of your room. [Arsel & Bean, JCR 2013, p. 909] A scary bunch, home decorators.).

You never knew marketing and novel-writing went so well together, did you? I certainly didn’t.

Now back to work. Next on the reading list: “Does Cultural Capital Structure American Consumption?” Siiiiiigh.

During the course of a week, I often find new story ideas sauntering past as I go about my daily business. Normally, I acknowledge them with a polite and interested nod of my head then keep walking, as I have somewhere to be or something else to write. However, I always wish that I could stop and chat with them to see what kind of story they might turn out to be. In this week’s Savvy Saturday, I’m introducing some of them to the world (that would be you). Perhaps you’d like to get to know one or two, and tell me about them?

For the less metaphorically minded of you out there, think of these as writing prompts from my brain. 🙂

–          A mature woman with grown children finally reveals her latent magical powers and goes “back to school” to learn how to properly use and control her magic.

–          Language as a conduit of magical power: different languages inherently harness magical essence differently, leading to certain cultures valuing and using different kinds of magic because of the language they speak – and the inevitable conflicts that happen when people from different groups attempt to communicate. (Might this turn into a Romeo and Juliet-style love story?)

–          A group of ancient history nerds on a tour in the wilds of Egypt are magically transported back in time to ancient Egypt, where their knowledge of religion, royalty, and history-that-hasn’t-yet-unfolded embroils them in conflict with the ruling class, priesthood, and scholars

–          A child kidnapped and raised for a few years by fairies is then given to the chief of dragons as part of a peace treaty. He is raised as a son of the dragons, to be a mediator between them and the fairies when he comes of age. All plans are jeopardized, however, when he meets another boy about his age from the human lands, whose ideas of right and wrong and destiny and choice are both shocking and appealing…

If any of these interest you, or inspire you to come up with other story ideas, post in the comments or on Facebook! I’d love to hear what types of ideas tip their hats to you as you pass in the hall.

This past week, I officially began my studies as a Ph.D. student in Marketing at the University of Nebraska. I expected to be overwhelmed and excited. This proved true. I didn’t expect to find a tie-in from The Quest of the Unaligned to my assigned reading in the first week. But that happened as well. In this week’s Savvy Saturday, I’m going to put on my Sociologist Hat and tell you about it.

In an article discussion group in which I was participating – a group that included three born US citizens, a German, two Chinese, and two Indians – the article discussed a bazaar in India, and how salespeople in this bazaar worked together, even as competitors, for the good of the community (Varman and Costa 2009).

According to the article, this only made sense if one considered Tonnies’ theory of Gemeinschaft and Geselleschaft.

At this point in the reading, I perked up and paid closer attention.

What the article ended up describing was fascinating. In America – like in Tonzimmel – it is assumed and thought natural that individuals work for their own benefit, that sellers will want make as much profit as possible, and that competitors in the same market will try to win away each other’s customers.

In rural India, however, this is not the case. Gemeinschaft, not Geselleschaft, governs the actions of bazaar shopkeepers. For instance, if a shopkeeper runs out of a particular good that a customer wants, it is acceptable for him to go to a competitor’s shop – where the competitor is selling exactly the same item – and just take the requested good from the competitor without paying for it, to then sell to his customer. It is expected, though, that he lets his competitors do the same to him.

In addition, all of the owners of the bazaar shops drink tea together after work and discuss their customers, the news, and fair prices for the items that they all sell. All of them agree on a “reasonable” price for their items, and they stick to it, even though bargaining still occurs. If any shopkeepers sell for “too low” according to the rest of the group, they are told to raise their prices so that the others can stay in business. If anyone chooses not to comply with the will of the group, they don’t receive any social acceptance from anyone in the group, including help from anyone else when they need it (such as borrowing of items).

Finally, customers at these bazaars are not pursued by sellers in the way that they are in America. Instead, it is expected that a customer will become attached to one particular seller and always buy from him. On the flip side, if a customer attempts to switch vendors, the new vendor tries to dissuade the customer from buying from him, and encourage the customer to return to his customary shopkeeper.

As a whole, these activities increase the wellbeing of the entire group of merchants, who can keep margins relatively high, who don’t have to work as hard to keep their customers, and who don’t have to have an overstock of all their items in case they run out. It isn’t the most efficient system, and individuals often have to give up their best interests for the good of the group, but it does keep the community running smoothly.

Just like in Cadaeren. Except without the magic.

Fascinating.

Today’s Savvy Saturday gives you a small snapshot into how my brain works.

Last night, a good friend and I were roasting marshmallows over a huge bonfire with her family. Her father was a master fire-builder: he had placed three log segments, each several feet wide and quite tall, on three of the sides of the fire. On the fourth side, he had lain entire dry branches from trees they had pruned with one end on the ground and the other end balanced over the large back log. In the middle on the ground were smaller logs that he had shoved in from the front.

By the time that we began roasting marshmallows, the fire roared red and hot, licking up the sides of the large logs, blazing yellow and blue along the tops of the longer branches, and turning the area in the middle into a furnace of bright coals. Constantly, red sparks shot up from the center of the fire and turned curlicues in the air before vanishing into the dark star-strewn sky.

Gazing at this, my story-telling brain kicked into gear.

“What would it be like,” I asked my friend, “if in another dimension – ”

“I like questions that begin ‘in another dimension,’” she broke in with a mischievous smile.

I grinned back. “In another dimension,” I continued, “what if the sparks shot up by fires like this were actually alive? Creatures of some sort? How would they view life, as they shoot upward from the fire that birthed them and dance for their few brilliant seconds on Earth?”

My friend considered this. “Good question,” she said. “But I don’t think they would die after they go out,” she said. “There would be two stages to their lives: the first bright, wild infancy stage, and the second calmer, wiser stage.”

That made sense. “They’d probably be some sort of helpful insect,” I agreed. “Firebugs. After their first wild dance of life, they’d settle down into a gray or brown form and would live in the soil, eating the dirt like earthworms and making it richer. They’d probably live for a few months.”

We watched the fire for another few seconds.

“I think, though,” I added, “when even old firebugs are threatened or made angry, they can revert back to their former stage for a few seconds. That way, they could burn anything that attacked them, and signal to their fellows that danger is at hand.”

“Ooh, real fireflies!” my friend exclaimed.

“And different woods would probably make different species of bugs,” I said.

“Of course,” she replied. “Some would probably burn brighter or longer, and some would be larger or smaller.”

“Some would probably fly mostly straight, while others would dance in loop-de-loops wherever they went. And they’d probably smell of their respective woods when they glowed.”

“Mmm,” my friend said, inhaling deeply of the scent of burning wood and closing her eyes.

“Children would probably go out and collect them in jars,” I said. “It would be a bit more dangerous than firefly hunting in this world – if you make the bugs mad, you could get hurt. But that wouldn’t stop young boys and girls from trying to fill a jar with real live sparks that would fly in curlicues for your amusement. And,” I added as an afterthought, “it would actually be helpful in the winter. They’d probably heat the jar they were in and help keep your hands warm. Kids in rural areas might have a winter job of collecting and jarring firebugs then selling the jars to cold passersby for a nickel or dime apiece.”

“I’d have done that when I was a kid,” my friend said.

“Me too.”

We sat and watched the fire. The sparks continued shooting and circling upward, blazing fervently as if they knew they had but seconds to dance before they had to grow up.

This week’s Savvy Saturday post is written from the beautiful state of Colorado! I visited Rocky Mountain National Park yesterday, which besides being gorgeous, provided incredible inspiration for my current fantasy writing. I took lots of pictures, which will help me remember what everything looked like, but the mountain smell, the thin air, the crisp breeze, the hail storm (in mid-August!), the peaceful grazing of the bighorn sheep and deer, the curiosity and skittishness of the marmots, those I’ll just have to try to keep in my mind’s eye as I write.

Here’s just one of the pictures I took:

So what did the Rockies inspire me to write, you ask? I’ll tell you.

My current work in progress is a set of five short stories that will introduce my new fantasy world – a wild world named Alepago where the Sun, Moon, and Stars are as sentient as the children of man. Each of the five stories I’m writing will feature a different tribal nation in this world.

The Rocky Mountains, I discovered yesterday, will be the perfect real-life representation for my fictional setting for several of these stories. The forested base of the mountains, the jagged bare rocks that jut out halfway up the peaks like ancient dinosaur spines, the tiny brooks full of trout, and the beautiful meadows of wildflowers and tall grass will all be an ideal setting for a hunting-gathering society.

Moving up in elevation, the tundra on the tops of the high mountains (above the tree-level at 10,000+ feet) will make a striking, beautiful, and appropriate setting for important ceremonies to which the celestial bodies must witness. For the few months of the year when the tundra isn’t covered in snow, it is a unique field of thick grass dotted with tiny gold and purple and red flowers, sprinkled with lichen-covered rocks that form patterns on the earth. Tall rocks shaped by the wind and the freezing and thawing of the earth stand out above the ground – a natural platform at the top of the earth from which a chief or shaman could pronounce words of power with authority.

I don’t want to say too much about my stories or my world yet (I’m still in the preliminary writing stages), but this I can assure you: if you love Rocky Mountain National Park, you’ll feel at home in Alepago.