As writers and (basically) people, we all have weaknesses and distractions. Those things that we love almost as much as creating—and destroying—worlds, that sometimes cannot be ignored, no matter how many times we motivate ourselves through ample application of self-shaming if we fail to accomplish 3,000 words before going to bed. For some, that distraction is yoga or working out; for others, our favorite TV show; and for others, reading a good book sometimes proves more compelling than writing one.Then there's another set of writers whom I'll call "the freakish July crowd." We are the rabble that sit in front of the NBC Sports stream for 4 – 6 hours every single day for three weeks straight in the middle of summer to see the carnival of quads and sods racing around France. Oh, we know we're wrong to waste our time in this fashion, but we can't help it. It's an addiction, an obsession, a geek-cum-athlete-fest so extreme and titillating that our habituated, slavish minds are incapable of resisting it.But we are adults, right? We can control our habits and our actions. We don't require an intervention to ensure we've adequately performed meaningful, if minimal, human functions for the day. We are in control of our actions and emotions, dammit, not the peloton. And not, dear gawd, the General Classification time gaps.Still, there is no denying those distractions tear at us. And if we wish to continue touting ourselves as writers, we must justify our behavior strategize ways to work those distractions to our advantage.For me, it's as simple as using my obsession with cycling, both watching races and spinning my own pedals, as research. Believe me when I tell you there is no better case study for researching deep, primal suffering than the Tour de France, Giro d'Italia, or Vuelta a España. And, yunno, given that my preferred genres all delve deeply into humanity's psychological and physical pain caves (military SF, horror, dark urban fantasy), I write about plenty of suffering. I need to be able to look into those grills of gritted teeth on the Col de Tourmalet, the eyes oozing agony on the team time trials, and the bloody, stripped-to-the-bone flesh on the Alp de Huez to accurately portray the depth of pain and misery people are capable of dropping into. Those hours I'm glued like Honey Stinger gels to teeth to the grand tours are not just to pass the time; they are essential to developing as a writer. Research. No good book can be written without it.What strategies do you employ to manage your distractions and keep your writing momentum?
Parlance Pandemonium, Vexatious Vernacular, and Loose Lingo: Language and the Power of Words
This is a post about the relationships between language and the words that we use, writing, cycling, and feminism. Given the wide range of subject matter, you can probably guess you’re in for a meandering and possibly, though I'll do my best not to make it, obtuse undercurrent direct from my often muddy stream of consciousness. But hey, this isn't an academic research paper, and you probably wouldn't read it if it were.Trigger! Warning! Disclosure! Flashy Red Lights! I’ll be using words that most people find either offensive or bawdily humorous from here forward. Here's a good chance for you to grab a cool beverage and maybe tab over to Twitter to check up on the current cycling race or [fill in the blank] sport updates. Or just skip down to the last couple of paragraphs that focus on writing. Your choice.As so often happens to me—I can't imagine why—I was recently involved in a debate about the use of the "c" word. Nope, not Clinton, the other "c" word. Yep, cunt. You see, I have this reputation as a feminist, probably not a big surprise to you, dear readers, and to many feminists, and women in general, the “c” word is considered the lowest, meanest insult there is. I don’t see it that way.Let me back up and tell you why cunt became such a, if I may, hot topic. And this is where cycling comes into the flow. Because, yunno, cycling is just another “c” word, at least to some. (Looking at you, Novitsky and Tygart.)Procyclist and one of the favorites for this year’s Tour de France Bradley Wiggins gave a press conference last week where he flung vitriol and expletives at those who claim any cyclist who could win the TdF must be a doper. I chimed in with my full support of his tirade, which caused a close friend to question in what universe a feminist ideology can be accepting of anyone using the “c” word, especially in the pejorative sense. Wiggo said,
I say they’re just fucking wankers. I cannot be dealing with people like that. It justifies their own bone-idleness because they can’t ever imagine applying themselves to do anything in their lives. It’s easy for them to sit under a pseudonym on Twitter and write that sort of shit, rather than get off their arses in their own lives and apply themselves and work hard at something and achieve something. And that’s ultimately it. Cunts.
I should mention that Wiggo, in case you hadn’t noticed, is a Brit and, in my understanding, the “c” word is a much more commonplace and universal pejorative in the UK than here. In other words, not quite as charged and anti-woman as in the US. I could be wrong in this assumption, however, since my closest association with English culture comes from growing up listening to the Clash and yes, cough, even Duran Duran.So why am I not opposed to being called the “c” word? Happy you asked, because it gives me a chance to tout one of my all-time favorite books, Inga Muscio's Cunt. Yep, that's the name of the book. It’s usually not shelved in the children’s section at your local bookstore. However, it is one of the greatest feminist reads you'll ever purchase, and she is a lovely and talented writer. The gist of why the title is that word is based on a sociolinguistic strategy of language reclamation. As you probably know, there is an intersection between feminist and sociolinguistic theory that revolves around language and how it is used / wielded to maintain a status quo. Part of the premise of Muscio's book discusses the origins of the word (originally a venerated goddess), and how it was co-opted by patriarchal forces and turned into a epithet. She analyzes how and why this type of thing happens (you should read Cunt and Rianne Eisler’s The Chalice and the Blade for a deeper discussion of this), and then boldly discusses how women have it within our power to reclaim the words that once stood for our strength and dynamism—cunt being one of the most loaded—and in essence, turn the tactics used to derogate them back around.I read Cunt for the first time over ten years ago. Since then, I've never really considered the use of the word derogatory—in the sense that I think that anyone who calls me a cunt in an offensive way is really just saying, "I fear your strength and power and am cluelessly using this weak term in an attempt to establish dominance over you (and failing miserably)." In other words, I take it as a roundabout compliment when someone calls me a cunt. Yeah, I get that it’s NOT really a compliment, but the lesson here is that language is dynamic and requires both an actor and a receiver to give it veracity.And finally, because I’m a writer and a lot of you are writers, let me bring this subject back around to how it relates to, well, writing.We love words. It’s a flamboyant, fathomless, messy, challenging, salacious, and sometimes painful love affair that forces us to do terrible, terrible things. We kill people; we level buildings, cities, hell, sometimes even entire planets; we kick puppies and bury our in-laws alive in hidden coffins. Why? Because we can! Because the words are there, and we revel in leveraging them to achieve any and all nefarious deeds our demented minds can dream up. Being the wordsmiths that we are, we care A LOT about the structure and intent of our every sentence and every word. We are the type of people that will often recompose the same email dozens of times, even if it’s simply to say “I’ll be there for dinner,” in order to ensure that just the right amount of enthusiasm or reticence is beaming through our recipient’s screen of choice. We have been known to throw out five or ten synonyms at time for a single word in a heated debate because we’re too impassioned to settle for just one.We, above most, understand that language, dialect, syntax, accent, and inflection are all key components of our writing, especially vis-à-vis characterisation. Applied carefully and deliberately, they become critical components in how we shape our readers’ grasp and impressions of our characters’ personalities, attributes, tastes, thoughts, intentions, and overall existence. Without unique and specific applications of language, all characters would sound, and thus in our readers’ minds BE, the same. And this strict attention to language doesn’t stop at characterisation, but extends as far as the tone of our novels and stories. The way we develop our narrators’ patterns of speech and the words they use flavors our works, making them either light and rich, like a banana cream pie, or heavy and dark, like a Kells Guinness Stout Cake.In summary, words are the magic wand that we, as writers, wield with all the dexterity of a Hogwarts graduate. It’s a heavy and shifting responsibility, but we embrace it because we are power-hungry despots whose one goal in life is to bend and warp the minds of our minions. What better way to achieve this than through the thing we all share: language.
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All content copyright unless otherwise specified © 2008-2013 by Tammy Salyer, writer. All rights reserved. Permission is granted to use short quotes provided proper attribution is given.
Clear Indicators That You May Be a Bit of a Cyclenaut
[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O0W__FNIGwA]We all have our peccadilloes; some people have too many cats, some people eat only white food. But I think most people agree, one of the strangest groups out there has to be roadies. In my annual homage to the Tour de France, which begins June 30th, here are a few reasons why "normal" people think roadies are weird.
On group rides, we think to ourselves things like, "wow, that guy has a nice set of cranks," or "that woman has one sexy saddle," and we're not referring to their bikes.
We feel naked in "normal" clothes because they don't cling like our cycling shorts.
No one can sit down in our offices because our bikes are leaning against the chairs. It's not like we're going to leave our babies outside.
Instead of things in our houses being fixed with duct tape, they are simply wrapped with old tubes.
During most rides, we clearly hear Phil and Paul in your head as they narrate our progress and prompt us to unpack our suitcases of courage.
Instead of an extra shirt in our gear bags, we have extra sets of arm and leg warmers.
We don't have friends. We have training partners (and this applies to all endurance athletes).
When faced with tough choices, we ask ourselves, "What would Lance do?"
We LIKE ice baths.
We have more cycling apps on our smart phones than we have numbers in our contact lists.
We find nothing strange about having around twenty things from which to drink out of in our kitchens, only two of which aren't bike bottles.
It seems perfectly reasonable to eat a pint of strawberry ice cream for breakfast on long ride days.
We consider it a personal insult when we are passed.
We find two-tone skin very appealing.
Our senses of propriety and taste are deeply wounded when we see handlebar tape that clashes with a paint job.
Full carbon makes us salivate.
We test different positions on downhills to see if we can bend the rules of physics to increase our terminal velocity.
Squirrels and other darting rodents terrify us.
We can eat three pints of strawberry ice cream after a ride and still be at a calorie deficit.
Our snot rockets could seriously injure small children.
We plan vacation schedules around the Giro and Le Tour.
We automatically call out "on your left" when passing other shoppers at the grocery store. (via wejazz)
When we compliment someone on their flashy jersey and they say, "bright colors make you faster," we take some time to seriously consider the possibility.
We don't think this or this or this are too high a price to pay for a good ride.
We no longer crack a grin at the brand names "Syn Lube" and "DZ Nuts." Lubing properly is, after all, serious business.
We can barely lift a bowling ball with our upper-body strength, but we could easily lift a Mini Cooper and its Sumo wrestling driver with the strength in our quads alone.
We buy or rent houses based largely on the length and quality of our bike commute to work.
We even shave your arms.
Strawberry ice cream.
We have a pet named "Cadence."
There are always empty Gu packets in our washing machines. (via wejazz)
Dan Wuori (@dwuori on Twitter) cracks us up.
We find ways to work exciting anecdotes about today's stage of whatever race into EVERY conversation. Thus, we're left to spend a lot of time talking to ourselves.
We buy new bikes instead of replacing our dead kitchen stoves. Whatever, we still have our barbequeuers.
We wanted to name our firstborn "Thor." (You know who you are :))
We hate gravel with the intensity most people reserve for brutal dictators or the guy who buys the last box of Honey Stingers.
Our partners have learned to preface simple requests of us after a long day of riding with "if you're not too tired..."
We read pedaltowardsdeath to be reminded of our mortality.
Our bike trainers have their own rooms.
And then of course, there are the Rules. (Thanks to wejazz for telling me about these.) Any and all who understand the above, feel free to add your own!**Just a heads up: I'll be doing a promotional free giveaway of my novel Contract of Defiance for Kindle and Kindle app owners on July 2nd, 3rd and 4th. Swing by Amazon to get your free copy!
Tips for World Traveling #5: France
Driving tours are often exciting and interesting, allowing travelers to see an entire country in just a short time. In a history-filled and beautiful place like France, this can be many people's dream come true. However, France goes above and beyond the simple and quaint countryside scenery and castles. They also provide a moving road targets for motorists to smash into barbed wire fences and hard tarmac. You know, just to keep things fun. Or at least, that's what some idiotic drivers for the media that are covering the Tour de France seem to think.[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tWT8yeHGA0U][youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ld9ah5cFVfI]Disgraceful. Unbelievably, in both crashes, all three riders got back on their bikes and finished the stages. Talk about tough.
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All content copyright unless otherwise specified © 2008-2013 by Tammy Salyer, writer. All rights reserved. Permission is granted to use short quotes provided proper attribution is given.
What is yellow, green, and polka-dot all over?*
Yes, it’s the great and magnificent Philippe Gilbert, champion cyclist of Belgium, and today also of the Tour de France. Bravo on your amazing performance today Monsieur Gilbert.That’s right dear readers, it is July, the month I officially excuse myself from a self-imposed limit of only a couple of hours per week of television (without this limit, I would be able to recite you all the main events and storylines of Dexter, Heroes, The Walking Dead, Lost, and Breaking Bad. I would not, however, have clean laundry, a job, or any muscle fiber beyond what is necessary to click buttons on the remote and carry popcorn from the kitchen to the couch).I estimate I will spend at least sixty-five hours glued to the idiot box this month watching the world’s most amazing (male) athletes perform feats of monumental courage, strength, and athleticism in spectacular France. This does not include the untold extra hours before and after each day's viewage that I will spend reading news about what happened in each stage, why it happened, predictions about what will happen in the following stages, and obsessively reading and sending tweets with the same fanatical compulsion my dog has when vacuuming up rabbit pellets whenever he thinks we’re not looking. Whatever. I watch the Tour for inspiration, which is a requirement for a healthy soul. And because I have ridiculous bike envy.There are two kinds of people in the world: those who give a flying boomerang at a running kangaroo about the Tour, and those who don’t. I’m quite certain I’ve already lost those who don’t. So, for the remaining readers of today’s post, don’t worry. I’m not going to bore you with a recap of the first stage, because I know you too were up at 5 a.m. and watched it yourself. Instead, I’ll just share a few of my favorite online resources and twitter tags. Oh yeah, it’s gonna be a great tour!!!Wait, do kangaroos run?Anyway.OnlineTo watch it streaming live on the ‘net for $29.95:http://tourdefrance.nbcsports.com/news/Places to watch it live streaming for free:http://www.cyclingfans.com/live_race_coverageThis is a great site out of Boulder. If you love snarky and irreverent, you will love these folks. Also on Twitter and Facebook.http://chamoisnews.com/Good list of this year’s teams:http://www.letour.com/2011/TDF/RIDERS/us/partants.htmlAussie network cycling site:http://www.sbs.com.au/cyclingcentral/Girls and Cycling:http://fuckyeahgirlsandcycling.tumblr.com/And of course:http://velonews.competitor.com/www.cyclingnews.comwww.velonation.comTwitter Tags#tourdefrance (where I spend most of my waking hours)#tdf#letour#tour#(any team)#(any rider)#cycling#procycling#iamacyclingnut(whew! that’s enough tags for one race)Feel free to give me a shout too @tammysalyer.So friends, I’d love to hear your hopes, predictions, thoughts on Contador and the doping issue, and anything else Tour related. Think Lance will show up for a “cameo” appearance and spend a day hanging with the Radioshack crew? Will Levi amaze or disappoint? Now that Vinokourav is out of Contador’s shadow, how hungry do you think he is for a win? Do Wiggins and Cadel have much of a chance? Oh, the drama! The excitement! The tight spandex!I'll leave you with one of the greatest Tour moments of all time.[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gr89ku-K2WU]*For those who aren't cycling geeks, yellow, green and polka-dot refer to different colored jerseys competitors win each day for points totals in different categories. The yellow jersey, or Maillot Jaune, is awarded to the racer with the best overall time. The green jersey goes to whoever has the most sprint points. And the polka-dot jersey goes to the racer who has the highest number of points in the mountain climbs.