I don't have enough of a brain right now to respond, deb, to fiction.

But I can say that I come from a pretty apologetic sliver of culture, but apologise for my brains? Oh, hell no. My father once said that he thought us kids didn't think he was bright...not sure what he supported that with. My father? The ambassador? Not bright? Okay, he doesn't have all the paper my mother does, but then again, neither do I. We weren't just encouraged to excel intellectually, it was demanded of us.

Bs are what you apologise for.

My mother once asked us to tone it down around a certain relative, because it made her anxious and feel bad about herself. I told her there was no way I could tone down the randomness of my conversation, and that it wasn't really my problem.

Sadly, I'm not as bright as I used to be. But it was fun while it lasted.

Deb, I think it's an excellent example of show, not tell. I get a feeling of Ches from his notebooks, that he needed to touch things to feel them, that despite technology his books were his memory and the most trusted way of recording things, that they were his touchstones. I get the feeling that JP is a bit freaked out by the memories of Ches and very sad at the same time. That he's feeling that kind of frisson you get from a moment of deja vu wondering what is today and what is yesterday. Nicely done.

To put it another way, what I'm seeing is JP being startled and....perplexed, I'd say, at a memory that was suddenly evoked. But I'm not totally sure without any further context.

Yep - and tired or not, you got just what I thought you would: a segment, a moment, something that can be shown on its own, bvut which works a whole lot better in context.

The whole point about Brown's stuff, about "being hit by a truck", is that for me, he's taken away any desire to go find the context. Because, who cares? He's just going to tell me all about it anyway.

(and me out to drive south. Sail, that drabble of yours triggered one hell of a good discussion.

and ita, double-yep: I don't apologise for my brains *or* my looks, any more than I tone it down except when I myself deem the tonedown necessary or desirable. Anyone can't cope? Don't hang with me. It really doesn't get simpler than that.

My new agent gave me a "tell, don't show" note.

My head exploded in indignation. And then I realized she was right about some things. I get bored with a story and rush to the end. It's why essays are my thing. My attention span can't last for anything longer than four thousand words.

It's a lousy trait for a writer.

I think there are places for telling, where the story style/voice or the pacing of the story would be best served by actual telling.

And certainly it's possible to write a really good or popular story without a lot of detail (I'm thinking of that SGA story everyone was raving about a few weeks ago, Freedom's Just Another Word...). But I think that it's harder to tell well and keep the reader's attention. Trickier, anyway, and certainly it's something I'm only just figuring out.

My new agent gave me a "tell, don't show" note.

Non-fiction, m'dear. WHOLE 'nother ballgame. Night and day.

This conversation made me have an epiphany last night, and I'm running out the door to deal with the Sec'y of State right now, but I've always thought that never apologizing for my brains was more of a negative in my friendships with women than with men.

Um...Do you want the stupid raising the next generation?

Can't tell you how many people have told me I was too young/inexperienced to do my job, but that I was getting too old to have kids. TOTALLY backwards priorities, folks.

And certainly it's possible to write a really good or popular story without a lot of detail (I'm thinking of that SGA story everyone was raving about a few weeks ago, Freedom's Just Another Word...).

Yup. Even though that story was what, 90% telling? I still felt like I was getting deep into the character's head. Some of that may have been that it was fanfic, so a lot of the initial character building had been done for the reader ahead of time. But for the most part, I think what carried me through was the general sense of mood, and the authorial voice.

I'll tell you, you don't have to be a Star Gate Atlantis fan to like "Freedom". I have seen maybe two episodes, plus a few of the original Stargate. The only character I'm familiar with from it is Sam Carter, and she only exists by letter in the story. So my only background knowledge is the general idea of the Star Gate universe, which the story more than delivers sufficient info about it. The story stands on its own fine.

I will add that I have not seen espisode even SG that is one tenth as well written as that short story.

I felt slapped in the face many times as an admin/clerical in my office. Assumptions of ignorance or ineptitude, etc., until people got to know me, and realize I had chosen a non-executive role deliberately.

But I don't think I'd ever felt as chilled as when a peer from our sister office and the boss of both our offices were visiting one day. I'd finished the instruction I'd been asked to do, and we wandered off onto other subjects: social commentary, astronomy, weather patterns. (Oh! I remember, it was the spring equinox, and those two or three days when the sunlight's angle changes. I remarked on how beautiful the light was, and that it was due to axial tilt) C was nodding along, and she suddenly turned to Big Boss and asked, "Do you know what she's talking about, most of the time?" BB said, "I just smile and nod."

Which could have been harmless and affectionate, but was delivered with such a sneer not adequately covered with a rictus-social smile. So I stuck to the business at hand after that, and let the rest of them prattle on about whatever. And smiled and nodded.