Apologies for being away for so long but holidays, finances and cars have got in the way of writing and blogging just recently. Thank you to the lone viewer from Canada. I could do with more of that and also anyone from other English speaking countries (Australia, New Zealand, South Africa etc) and also those with good English from Scandanavia to join the two from Sweden. And is it really true that Kazakhstan and Mongolia are internet dead spots...?
Anyway, on with the blog.
I have been reading The Deceit by Tom Knox (Harper 2013), and it highlights a couple of important points even in chapter one.
Consider this, right at the start, were the viewpoint character is on th outskirts of Cairo:
The taxi stopped in the City of the Dead. Victor Sassoon stared out of the dusty cab window, adjusting his spectacles, and cursing his seventy-five-year-old eyesight.
Great first sentence, but who misread the name as Vidal Sassoon, the famous hairstylist? The present participles could be replaced by past participles but, this time at least, the simultaneity is OK.
Later we have this:
The drive took merely ten minutes, past the last of the Fstimid ossuaries, past the final tombs of the Abbasid nobles, past an Ottoman mausoleum adapted into a car repair workshop.
I get it - the author has been there and actually seen these things. And Sassoon is an expert on such things. But does the reader really care? Or bother looking these things up? I had this problem with a main character of mine where her bedroom was filled with Georgian furniture. Yes, she loved it, but who else gave a shit if it was deigned by William Gomm? Nobody, I bet. That's why I had to introduce it to the reader by her having a new friend round, Besides it made it more immediate. I was wondering if Knox could perhaps have introduced his facts in diary entries or letters and perhaps concentrated on how impatient or uncomfortable the Sassoon character felt in the grubby taxi.
Jacl Orchison
August 30, 2014
Saturday 30 August 2014
Friday 29 August 2014
My biographical bit, part 16: University 7
It seems strange that I ever made it out the other side with a PhD, especially being a self-critical doubter by nature. But hard work and method won out.
Being in the Chemistry Department was never without its drama. And there was never smoke without fire - quite literally. One day there were visitors and a senior member of staff was showing them his research lab. The lab had two doors, one at either end. The students in there managed to set light to something at both ends, temporarily trapping the visitors inside (ooops). I spotted a fire in the photochemistry lab once (some elecrical fault had ignited methanol, I believe). I also incinerated the floor next to my bench with sodium hydride - it burnt a hole in the fire blanket and the fire brigade dumped the lot on the lawn in the quadrangle outside. Nothing grew there for years, apparently. But by far the worst episode, which was in no way amusing (in fact it was deadly serious) was the fire in the lab next door where work was lost and people injured (Des McNamara and Harjit Gill). Indeed the professor's diminutive wife put Des out in the sink. The building and equipment suffered a lot of smoke damage, too.
Someone else mangaed to set light to a carcinogenic substance (HMPA, hexamethylphosphoramide)in the fume cupboard, and was later seen actually in the fume cupboard cleaning up all the crap. One wit (Judith Buck) was heard to comment that the guy would have tumours on his tumours. No idea if this ever came to pass. Also, there were rumours of solvent-sniffing competitions (not for abuse but to detect what was in the mixture) and pure ethanol punch. Neither could be substantiated. One thing I do know, though: acetone (the main ingredient in nail varnish remover) is great for getting rid of wasps. One squirt and they're done for.
Next time - back to normality!
Jack Orchison
August 29, 2014
Being in the Chemistry Department was never without its drama. And there was never smoke without fire - quite literally. One day there were visitors and a senior member of staff was showing them his research lab. The lab had two doors, one at either end. The students in there managed to set light to something at both ends, temporarily trapping the visitors inside (ooops). I spotted a fire in the photochemistry lab once (some elecrical fault had ignited methanol, I believe). I also incinerated the floor next to my bench with sodium hydride - it burnt a hole in the fire blanket and the fire brigade dumped the lot on the lawn in the quadrangle outside. Nothing grew there for years, apparently. But by far the worst episode, which was in no way amusing (in fact it was deadly serious) was the fire in the lab next door where work was lost and people injured (Des McNamara and Harjit Gill). Indeed the professor's diminutive wife put Des out in the sink. The building and equipment suffered a lot of smoke damage, too.
Someone else mangaed to set light to a carcinogenic substance (HMPA, hexamethylphosphoramide)in the fume cupboard, and was later seen actually in the fume cupboard cleaning up all the crap. One wit (Judith Buck) was heard to comment that the guy would have tumours on his tumours. No idea if this ever came to pass. Also, there were rumours of solvent-sniffing competitions (not for abuse but to detect what was in the mixture) and pure ethanol punch. Neither could be substantiated. One thing I do know, though: acetone (the main ingredient in nail varnish remover) is great for getting rid of wasps. One squirt and they're done for.
Next time - back to normality!
Jack Orchison
August 29, 2014
Wednesday 18 June 2014
Being a writer, part 13: Real examples 4
This time I'm going to compare the openings of two novels by the same author.
EXTRACT 1
The village slowly began to shake off its slumber and come to life. Slowly because nothing ever happened with speed in that part of Wiltshire; a mood of timelessness carefully cultivated by the villagers over the centuries prevailed. (The Fog by James Herbert (1975) and published by NEL)
EXTRACT 2
The small mounds of dark earth scattered around the graveyard looked as though the dead were pushing their way back into the living world. The girl smiled nervously at the thought as she hurried from grave to grave. (Shrine by James Herbert (1983) and published by NEL/Hodder and Stoughton)
Which of these is better?
The second by a long way. Let me explain.
In the second extract we have, very quickly, place, image, action and a question (who is the girl and what is she doing?).
The first extract, however, is badly written. You don't need both 'slowly' and 'began to' as they imply the same thing. Neither do we need the repeated 'Slowly' or 'because.' That way we can get rid of the incorrect semi-colon and replace it with a dash. Prevailed refers to the timelessness not the centuries and should be placed as such. Also we don't need 'carefully,' since for the villagers to cultivate an atmosphere over centuries they would have to be very careful indeed.
So, overall, the first exract should read as follows:
The village slowly shook off its slumber and came to life. Nothing ever happened with speed in that part of Wiltshire - a mood of timelessness prevailed, cultivated by the villagers over centuries.
There - that's better. Same meaning, six words less.
But there's still another problem: who wants to go to a place where we are told directly nothing ever happens?
Jack Orchison
June 18, 2014.
EXTRACT 1
The village slowly began to shake off its slumber and come to life. Slowly because nothing ever happened with speed in that part of Wiltshire; a mood of timelessness carefully cultivated by the villagers over the centuries prevailed. (The Fog by James Herbert (1975) and published by NEL)
EXTRACT 2
The small mounds of dark earth scattered around the graveyard looked as though the dead were pushing their way back into the living world. The girl smiled nervously at the thought as she hurried from grave to grave. (Shrine by James Herbert (1983) and published by NEL/Hodder and Stoughton)
Which of these is better?
The second by a long way. Let me explain.
In the second extract we have, very quickly, place, image, action and a question (who is the girl and what is she doing?).
The first extract, however, is badly written. You don't need both 'slowly' and 'began to' as they imply the same thing. Neither do we need the repeated 'Slowly' or 'because.' That way we can get rid of the incorrect semi-colon and replace it with a dash. Prevailed refers to the timelessness not the centuries and should be placed as such. Also we don't need 'carefully,' since for the villagers to cultivate an atmosphere over centuries they would have to be very careful indeed.
So, overall, the first exract should read as follows:
The village slowly shook off its slumber and came to life. Nothing ever happened with speed in that part of Wiltshire - a mood of timelessness prevailed, cultivated by the villagers over centuries.
There - that's better. Same meaning, six words less.
But there's still another problem: who wants to go to a place where we are told directly nothing ever happens?
Jack Orchison
June 18, 2014.
Tuesday 17 June 2014
My biographical bit, part 15: University 6
There are things you wouldn't believe that go on in a chemistry lab, perpetrated by highly qualified graduates too. This is the stuff of the Dick of the Day award mentioned last time.
The reaction that crawled out of the pot on its own was, of course, one of mine, but there were others. Like spending all might isolating a product by column chromatography only for it to go off. Like the reaction that went from clear to yellow to green to blue and, finally, black. Like incinerating the floor next to my bench when a tin of sodium hydride caught fire (I was banished to the chemistry library for weeks for that one)...
My friend Phil Thomas (he of the long walk from Grantham) was once pressurising a massive chromatograohy column, known as the Drainpipe, which contained kilos of silica and litres of solvent, and he forgot to open the tap...Bang! The thing sheared in two with a mighty crack and dumping of its contents. He did this with a smaller one, too, where the pieces of flying glass miraculously missed everyone. He also once spent all night in the lab, where he was still there at 4am when the security man came round, and went to sleep between the bookcases in the library.
Pete Amos, a newcomer when I was in my last year, got off to a bad start when, on the very first day when he introduced himself, he sat on the end of my bench - always a bad idea with chemicals around - and broke some NMR tubes with samples in them soneone else had left for me to analyse. This had to be the fastest winner of Dick of the Day. Yes, he fitted right in!
Andy Hobbs once lovingly isolated the wrong product because he'd forgotten to scrub the acetone out of the acetylene he was using, and set light to a pyrophoric lithium compound on the balance - crimson flames licked at the ceiling tiles.
The fun just continued...
Next time, more cock-ups, fires etc.
Jack Orchison
June 16, 2014.
The reaction that crawled out of the pot on its own was, of course, one of mine, but there were others. Like spending all might isolating a product by column chromatography only for it to go off. Like the reaction that went from clear to yellow to green to blue and, finally, black. Like incinerating the floor next to my bench when a tin of sodium hydride caught fire (I was banished to the chemistry library for weeks for that one)...
My friend Phil Thomas (he of the long walk from Grantham) was once pressurising a massive chromatograohy column, known as the Drainpipe, which contained kilos of silica and litres of solvent, and he forgot to open the tap...Bang! The thing sheared in two with a mighty crack and dumping of its contents. He did this with a smaller one, too, where the pieces of flying glass miraculously missed everyone. He also once spent all night in the lab, where he was still there at 4am when the security man came round, and went to sleep between the bookcases in the library.
Pete Amos, a newcomer when I was in my last year, got off to a bad start when, on the very first day when he introduced himself, he sat on the end of my bench - always a bad idea with chemicals around - and broke some NMR tubes with samples in them soneone else had left for me to analyse. This had to be the fastest winner of Dick of the Day. Yes, he fitted right in!
Andy Hobbs once lovingly isolated the wrong product because he'd forgotten to scrub the acetone out of the acetylene he was using, and set light to a pyrophoric lithium compound on the balance - crimson flames licked at the ceiling tiles.
The fun just continued...
Next time, more cock-ups, fires etc.
Jack Orchison
June 16, 2014.
Sunday 1 June 2014
Being a writer, part 12: Real examples 3
Another two examples for you. Both excerpts are from published novels. They are examples of committing some sort of gaffe (or gaffes) on the first page, even in the first paragraph. Your first page must be perfect!
EXCERPT 1
High up in the thin mountain air of the Andes, Professor Kent looked out for one last time over the moonlit beauty of the ancient ruins of Machu Picchu, stretching away along the valley's edge three hundred feet down below. Only ten minutes earlier he had been lying sound asleep in his warm bed in the Hotel Ruinas, not far from the world famous UNESCO heritage site, when suddenly, without warning, he had been shaken from the depths of sleep by two strangers (Pyramid (2007) by Tom Martin and published by Pan Macmillan).
We get what's happening, but where the hell was the editor? We don't need the word 'up' in the first line, we can replace 'looked out for' by 'gazed.' We don't need 'down' in line two. 'Sound asleep' is a cliché. The research is obvious. 'Suddenly,' which we should never use, means the same as 'without warning,' so this is tautological. And we know he's asleep - what is wrong with replacing 'from the depths of sleep' by 'awake?' And, oh dear, my critique is nearly as long as the passage chosen...
EXCERPT 2
In the distance a dust devil skimmed along the horizon, its trajectory zigzaggig with uncanny intelligence. The Bedouin believed such dust storms to be the restless spirits of those who lay unburied, bone-naked, lost in the harsh desert. Was this a bad omen? Worried that the roughnecks might think so, I glanced over. The field workers, big, fearless men, their overalls blackened with grime and oil, were paused in awe, tools in hand, staring at the phenomenon (Sphinx (2010) by TS Learner and published by Sphere).
If a dust devil is on the horizon, then it must be in the distance, so there is no need for the first three words. Also, how could it be seen to zigzag at that distance? We don't need 'that' in line three, and neither do we need the question. It would be better to say 'Worried the roughnecks might think this a bad omen.' And then there is the real clanger: any guy with his tool in his hand is not going to be doing any work! Unintentional humour kills off all the seriousness the author is trying to build.
This one had ne laughing out loud.
Jack Orchison
June 1, 2014.
EXCERPT 1
High up in the thin mountain air of the Andes, Professor Kent looked out for one last time over the moonlit beauty of the ancient ruins of Machu Picchu, stretching away along the valley's edge three hundred feet down below. Only ten minutes earlier he had been lying sound asleep in his warm bed in the Hotel Ruinas, not far from the world famous UNESCO heritage site, when suddenly, without warning, he had been shaken from the depths of sleep by two strangers (Pyramid (2007) by Tom Martin and published by Pan Macmillan).
We get what's happening, but where the hell was the editor? We don't need the word 'up' in the first line, we can replace 'looked out for' by 'gazed.' We don't need 'down' in line two. 'Sound asleep' is a cliché. The research is obvious. 'Suddenly,' which we should never use, means the same as 'without warning,' so this is tautological. And we know he's asleep - what is wrong with replacing 'from the depths of sleep' by 'awake?' And, oh dear, my critique is nearly as long as the passage chosen...
EXCERPT 2
In the distance a dust devil skimmed along the horizon, its trajectory zigzaggig with uncanny intelligence. The Bedouin believed such dust storms to be the restless spirits of those who lay unburied, bone-naked, lost in the harsh desert. Was this a bad omen? Worried that the roughnecks might think so, I glanced over. The field workers, big, fearless men, their overalls blackened with grime and oil, were paused in awe, tools in hand, staring at the phenomenon (Sphinx (2010) by TS Learner and published by Sphere).
If a dust devil is on the horizon, then it must be in the distance, so there is no need for the first three words. Also, how could it be seen to zigzag at that distance? We don't need 'that' in line three, and neither do we need the question. It would be better to say 'Worried the roughnecks might think this a bad omen.' And then there is the real clanger: any guy with his tool in his hand is not going to be doing any work! Unintentional humour kills off all the seriousness the author is trying to build.
This one had ne laughing out loud.
Jack Orchison
June 1, 2014.
My biographical bit, part 14: University 5
Last time I'd reached the various people that were in my PhD lab during 1981-1984. I'd forgotten one other guy: Wole Shode, another African postdoc. He was a serious and conscientious chap and didn't hold with all our cavorting and pissing around!
One of the things we used to do was play five-a-side football against the other research labs. Our team was okay and I played in goal.
These are the two incidents I remember best:
1. A shot came through a sea of legs, took a slight deflection to my right then, when I was wrong-footed, a big one to the left. I just got down in time to push it round the post.
2. The ball was bounding towards our goal pursued by an enemy striker. All I could do was advance to the edge of the circle to cut down the angle, and I saved the shot too. Pity it was point blank with my genitalia. We were winning 1-0 at that point, but ended up losing 3-1 because I couldn't move.
Then there was the Dick of the Day Award.
This was the basically the top of the head and the ears of a Space Hopper (remember them?) with a cocktail stick in the top bearing a flag made from a sticky label that said Dick of the Day. Dick was underlined. It was specially awarded to any chemical cock-up committed in the lab and was a trophy to be worn with pride on your bench until the next incident, which was hopefully by someone else. It reminded us that a man who never made a mistake never made anything. At least that was our excuse.
Next time: recipient events of the Dick of the Day award - and other gross errors and unbelieveable events.
Jack Orchison
June 1, 2014
One of the things we used to do was play five-a-side football against the other research labs. Our team was okay and I played in goal.
These are the two incidents I remember best:
1. A shot came through a sea of legs, took a slight deflection to my right then, when I was wrong-footed, a big one to the left. I just got down in time to push it round the post.
2. The ball was bounding towards our goal pursued by an enemy striker. All I could do was advance to the edge of the circle to cut down the angle, and I saved the shot too. Pity it was point blank with my genitalia. We were winning 1-0 at that point, but ended up losing 3-1 because I couldn't move.
Then there was the Dick of the Day Award.
This was the basically the top of the head and the ears of a Space Hopper (remember them?) with a cocktail stick in the top bearing a flag made from a sticky label that said Dick of the Day. Dick was underlined. It was specially awarded to any chemical cock-up committed in the lab and was a trophy to be worn with pride on your bench until the next incident, which was hopefully by someone else. It reminded us that a man who never made a mistake never made anything. At least that was our excuse.
Next time: recipient events of the Dick of the Day award - and other gross errors and unbelieveable events.
Jack Orchison
June 1, 2014
Monday 26 May 2014
My biographical bit, part 13: University 4
I graduated with first class honours in Chemistry in 1978, and I knew that I wanted to carry study further. I began a PhD, still at Nottingham, in sythetic organic chemistry under the supervision of Don Whiting - he was a Reader in organic chemistry, in the UK the next payscale down from Professor.
And so began a whole new era, and some very odd stuff along the way. Mostly down to the daftness of the people in the research lab, C29, who were there at various times: Dane Toplis, trumpeter and research technician, who was always a laugh; Ray Denman, a chubby guy who loved his dogs who was a Demonstrator to undergraduates; Roland Smith, postdoctoral researcher, who was known as either the Baldy Moron or Mr Semi-Erect but whose intelligence was not in doubt and did not walk around in a state of dubious arousal; Andy Hobbs, known as Hobbs the Gob (or HG for short) who always bragged how great he was until his girlfriend left him and he crashed his car into a bridge, luckily wothout injury; Paul Clawson, whose Danish grandfather changed his name from Claussen after the war, fellow chess player, and the only person I know to have saved on a student grant, who was always stirring mixtures in conical flasks - it looked very simple but was actually a delicate reaction of a carbonyl ylid; Phil Thomas, known as Dick Brain (or DB for short), fellow chess player, and very high on the list for entertainment value with many lab cock-ups; Clive Till, postdoctoral reaearcher who got his PhD at Southampton, and who had the ability as a personal timepiece - you could set your watch by him when he rolled up at 10am every day, who had a girlfriend called Rowan from Huntingdon (or Humpingdon as we called it); Khalid Khan, lothario, and the palest Pakistani I've ever seen; Peter Amos, known as Groper for his wandering hands, who was Roland Smith's morning running partner; Samuel Yeboah, postdoctoral researcher from Ghana, who wondered how I got to be always filtering off fine crystals (I kept some odd hours); then there was me - the guy who once managed to get a crappy brown froth to ooze out of a flask before I'd even put the solvent in or heated it up. There was a special award for that, bestowed by the lab members, but that is for next time.
Jack Orchison
May 25, 2014.
And so began a whole new era, and some very odd stuff along the way. Mostly down to the daftness of the people in the research lab, C29, who were there at various times: Dane Toplis, trumpeter and research technician, who was always a laugh; Ray Denman, a chubby guy who loved his dogs who was a Demonstrator to undergraduates; Roland Smith, postdoctoral researcher, who was known as either the Baldy Moron or Mr Semi-Erect but whose intelligence was not in doubt and did not walk around in a state of dubious arousal; Andy Hobbs, known as Hobbs the Gob (or HG for short) who always bragged how great he was until his girlfriend left him and he crashed his car into a bridge, luckily wothout injury; Paul Clawson, whose Danish grandfather changed his name from Claussen after the war, fellow chess player, and the only person I know to have saved on a student grant, who was always stirring mixtures in conical flasks - it looked very simple but was actually a delicate reaction of a carbonyl ylid; Phil Thomas, known as Dick Brain (or DB for short), fellow chess player, and very high on the list for entertainment value with many lab cock-ups; Clive Till, postdoctoral reaearcher who got his PhD at Southampton, and who had the ability as a personal timepiece - you could set your watch by him when he rolled up at 10am every day, who had a girlfriend called Rowan from Huntingdon (or Humpingdon as we called it); Khalid Khan, lothario, and the palest Pakistani I've ever seen; Peter Amos, known as Groper for his wandering hands, who was Roland Smith's morning running partner; Samuel Yeboah, postdoctoral researcher from Ghana, who wondered how I got to be always filtering off fine crystals (I kept some odd hours); then there was me - the guy who once managed to get a crappy brown froth to ooze out of a flask before I'd even put the solvent in or heated it up. There was a special award for that, bestowed by the lab members, but that is for next time.
Jack Orchison
May 25, 2014.
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