Susan, insent.

Methinks my heart just did a little pittypat, there.

Heh.

I live to serve.

Heh heh.

Got it, Amy--will reply soonish.

I'm still very puzzled as to what has made Deb want to leave. The length and breadth of my intent was to ask that people not be dismissive and unkind when discussing matters close to my heart. Is it not possible to discuss things one doesn't like without being dismissive and unkind? I hope not.

I guess I don't really understand what analysis is. When I get feedback, isn't that analysis? Nutty or Jessica or ita, can you give me a simple explanation of what analysis is?

Okay -- Stephanie Zacharek wrote an essay in the 8th season of the X-Files to the effect that the whole season was about the anxieties of pregnancy and birth. She pointed out how the Butt Genie, and the Jebuslug, and several other villains of the week, all mirrored a certain fear of invasion of the human body by a frightening, animalistic power. That's analysis. Unfortunately, it's possible to write clever analysis about a show that sucks, and actually be interesting enough and provocative enough that it makes me want to watch the episodes again, despite their being bad, just to see if I agree with her.

It's possible to think a thing is total crap, and still find it rich for analysis -- like, say, XF season 8. In some ways, it's easier to analyze total crap, because it tends to be clunkily obvious in its themes.

Saying, "I liked Season 6, and this is why" is a review. Saying, "The theme of season 6 is growing up and getting over one's inner moppet, and this is why I think that" is analysis. I think most feedback tends to be more review-like, but occasionally, and especially with people I know well enough to converse comfortably, it turns into analysis.

I think very little feedback is critique, since most people assume that by the time they're reading it, the story is finished and won't be revised.

OK, this is about 50 words too long, and it's stretching the definition of "under the bed" almost to the breaking point, but after our earlier discussion, I can't resist. Forgive me, Teppy!

Kama Sutra in the 95th

“Flaherty,” Robertson said.

“What?”

“You served in India, right?”

“I did. What of it?”

Robertson passed him the book. “Do the girls there really bend that way?”

Flaherty’s eyes bugged out.

“Give that back,” Jack said. Hard as it was not to laugh, he tried to inject a note of severity in his voice.

“But, Sergeant!”

“If I take that book back to Captain Kincaid covered in your grubby fingerprints, he’ll never let me borrow another.”

“We just want to look at the pictures!” Robertson said.

He held out his hand expectantly, and Flaherty handed it over with a sigh. Jack brushed off the cover, thrust it under his bedroll, and sat on it. That ought to keep it safe from prying eyes.

In the darkest hour of night when all but the sentries slept, he would go to Anna, and maybe they’d find out if Englishwomen could bend that way.

50 words too long or not, I love it!

I think very little feedback is critique, since most people assume that by the time they're reading it, the story is finished and won't be revised.

Which is why we tend not to analyze in GWW.

Although stories are often revised, edited, polished and otherwise altered in response to feedback.

50 words too long or not, I love it!

Thanks! It was fun to write. Jack is my favorite viewpoint character ever, and I just suddenly pictured him in that situation and had to run with it.

That ruled, Susan. Really.

Susan, that is a delightful scene. Will you keep it for your book?

t preens

Cindy, it's tempting. But I'm afraid the whole "look what Captain Kincaid found in a dusty bookshop last time we were in Lisbon" scenario is a little too far-fetched. I did, however, save it in my random drabbles section of that novel's folder on my hard drive, just in case.