Photography, Copyright and Freedom of Panorama

My husband and I share a home office and most afternoons we listen to the culture program on German radio. Usually I blend it out and concentrate on my writing, but yesterday something caught my ear. The announcer warned that a picture posted online (to Facebook, for example) could end up costing you even if you took with your own camera.

By now most of us are Internet savvy to know that posting someone else's copyrighted photo constitutes misuse. But photos that we snapped ourselves with our camera phone? Those are fair game, right? Not always. In fact, it depends on what (and who) we photograph.

Copyright law also varies by country, but in general, we are not allowed to take photos of copyrighted works such as murals, statues, artwork or even buildings and post them online. If you take a photo on a public street, you are potentially capturing hundreds of copyrighted images (and private people, who have their own protections when it comes to publishing photographs).

Is this photo of me under the Kuwaiti water towers protected under Freedom of Panorama?  I think so!


That's why a Freedom of Panorama exception was created. This means, in most cases, you cannot be held liable for a photo taken in or from a publicly accessible places. In the US, the current law is more narrow and only applies to buildings. That means you can take (and post) a photo of the Empire State Building from the street (but not an adjacent private building), but probably not the Gandhi statue in Union Square.

Since tourists take and post millions of such photos, in practice it is unlikely that you will be prosecuted for such offenses. But it is within the realm of possibility.

All this got me thinking about novels and the futuristic technology within. If there can be such complicated laws surrounding the use of digital photography, what laws might governments have to come up with to regulate teleportation or hovercrafts or lightsabers?  These laws might never come up in the course of the narrative, but it's no doubt a useful worldbuilding exercise to ponder the legal ramifications.

NOTE: I'm not a copyright expert, so take this post with a grain of salt and feel free to do your own research.


Perfecting your opening line



I recently had the good fortune to attend a talk by one of my fave authors – the awesomely talented Meg Rosoff (How I Live Now) – at the Oxford Literary Festival. During the talk she mentioned how, for two years, she’d struggled to write her book Picture Me Gone. All she had was a lot of blank pages and the character’s name: Mila. It seemed hopeless. Until one day, when she was out for a walk, a little yappy dog bounded over to her. It’s name tag read…you guessed it, Mila. And like a glittery bolt of word lightning, the first line of her novel zapped into her mind:

The first Mila was a dog. Picture Me Gone, Meg Rosoff

The rest, as they say, was history. Which got me thinking about the importance of first lines. What should a good first line do?

Grab the reader’s attention


The key thing a first line should do is grab the reader’s attention - we’re talking full on pom-pom shaking, tassel-twirling action. Let’s face it, we’re all guilty of flicking to page one of a book and scanning the first few lines to see if it’s worth buying –an opinion can be formed that quickly – so it’s vital your first line instantly hooks the reader. So, what makes an attention grabbing first line? I think it falls into 3 key categories:

1. The dramatic statement


One way to start your novel is with a dramatic statement, such as Andy Weir’s The Martian, which is getting uber amounts of love, here on the League!

I’m pretty much fucked. – The Martian, Andy Weir

Why is he fucked? What’s going on? Who is fucked? Instantly, we want to know more. This is a great way to hook a reader, but do make sure the dramatic statement is relevant to your character and plot! Ideally, it should sum up the main crisis in the book in one succinct line, as in the example above. The crux of the story is the character, Mark, is screwed because he’s been stranded alone on Mars.

Another great example is:

It was a pleasure to burn. – Fahrenheit 451, Ray Bradbury

Gives you shivers, right? Who or what is burning? Why is it a pleasure? It grabs you and pulls you in, demanding you carry on reading.

Or:

My mother thinks I’m dead. -  Legend, Marie Lu

Why does Day’s mother think he is dead? Why hasn’t he told her that he is alive? How did he supposedly die?! SO MANY QUESTIONS.

2. The character introduction


If your main character is the hook of your novel, then your first line should set them up and immediately tell the reader why they’re such a special snowflake. Marissa Meyer does this masterfully in her sci-fi Cinderella retelling, Cinder:   

The screw through Cinder’s ankle had rusted, the engraved cross marks worn to a mangled circle. – Cinder, Marissa Meyer

In one short line, we know what’s unique about this version of Cinderella – she has an artificial metal foot. We also know she’s good with mechanics, which plays a key role in the narrative. Masterful!

3. The world set-up


If world-building is your strength and you’ve created a setting that could be a ‘character’ in its own right, then consider using your first line to set the scene. This example combines both a dramatic statement and sets up the world:

They called the world beyond the walls of the Pod “the Death Shop.” – Under the Never Sky, Veronica Rossi   

Like, wow, right? Instantly we know she’s living in a Pod (Why? How did this happen? What sort of society is this?) and that the environment outside this safe world is deadly.

Or, here’s an example from my own work:

An air-raid siren wails in the distance, alerting Black City citizens to lock their doors and turn out the lights. – Black City, Elizabeth Richards

In this example, (I hope) you get a sense Black City is a war-torn place, where its citizens live in constant fear. Fear of what though? All is explained in the subsequent sentences:

An air-raid siren wails in the distance, alerting Black City citizens to lock their doors and turn out the lights. They don’t want to be out in the dark alone. They might meet something dangerous. Something like me. – Black City, Elizabeth Richards

Are you hooked yet? J

What are your favorite first lines from novels? We'd love to hear your views!  

What We Are Reading

As spring is finally here, we at the League are taking any chance we can get to sit in the sun with a good book. Here's what we are reading:

Bethany Hagen: I just started Tabula Rasa by Kristen Lippert-Martin, which will hit bookshelves this fall. As soon as I heard that it was like a sci-fi Bourne Identity, plus a cute hacker, I was hooked!

Goodreads

Elizabeth Richards: I'm about to start Half Bad by Sally Green, which is about a male witch who is half white witch, half black witch. It sounds awesome and has been getting great buzz, so I can't wait to dive in! 

Meagan Spooner: I'm reading Compulsion by Martina Boone, out in October.


Mindy McGinnis: I just finished THE TRUTH ABOUT ALICE by Jennifer Mathieu. It's a great testament to gossip ruining lives.

Goodreads

Lydia Kang: I just started reading INK by Amanda Sun. Love the cultural change of scenery for a YA novel.  


Susanne Winnacker: I’m currently reading BOUNDLESS by Cynthia Hand.



Amie Kaufman: I'm reading THE MARTIAN by Andy Weir, because it's a story about a guy who gets stranded alone on Mars, and I looooove shipwreck stories and I love Mars! And it's blurbed by an astronaut. What's not to love?


Lissa Price: I'm reading Grasshopper Jungle by Andrew Smith. He's a friend and I'll be seeing him at a book fest next month so I want to finish it before then.


Eugene Myers: I'm finishing WHEN WE WAKE by Karen Healey. I've been meaning to read it since it came out last year, because her first two books, GUARDIAN OF THE DEAD and THE SHATTERING are terrific. But I finally picked it up because I'm reading my way through the nominees for this year's Andre Norton Award. Fortunately this means I don't have a huge wait for the companion book.



And as for me, I'm reading The Runaway King. I read The False Prince, and was completely hooked  hooked by the cocky main character, the setting, the premise, and the non-stop conflict. It's one of those books where I'm just thrilled that there are more books in the series to love.
Goodreads

What are you reading right now?

A single WORD can affect what we SEE

I watched a youtube video once that showed the power words have in such a different way than I've ever thought, and it's fascinated me ever since. The video really spoke to the writer me.

Basically, it says that the words you learn could have an impact on the colors you see. It included some studies they did with the people in the Himba tribe in Northern Namibia.

The English language has eleven color categories. Reds, blues, greens, browns, yellows, etc. In the Himba tribe, they only have FOUR.

Zoozu= dark colors, including red, some blues, some greens, and purple
Vapa= white and some yellows
Borou= some greens and blues
Dumbu= different greens, reds, and brown

Why is this weird? They did a test, showing participants a ring of squares where all but one of the colors were the same. When the colors were all green, with one very slightly different, English-speakers had a hard time figuring out which green was different. This is an image I recreated, based on what I remember seeing. Can you tell which is different?


Chances are, unless you have been trained in a profession where you have very specific names for colors--- such as an artist, a printer, a designer, etc.--- you'll have a little trouble picking out which one is different from the others without looking at it for quite a while, if ever.

With the Himba tribe, the other green had a different NAME, so they could pick it out instantly.

On the flip-side, though, when the ring of colors were all green with one blue, we can pick it out the second it was put on the screen.


Easy peasy, right? When two colors have different names, we can pick out the difference immediately. However, the two colors had the same name among the Himba, so they couldn't tell the difference. Fascinating, no?

It's not that their eyes work any differently than our eyes work. It's simply because the words we use to categorize things really changes the way we SEE things.

When we have categories to put things in, we can very quickly order the things that we see.

And, of course, it doesn't just work with the colors that we see-- Characters and setting are the same way. When we read about someone or some place, our mind immediately categorizes them (not always in the right category, of course). The brain orders what it sees. And that, my friends, can be used to our advantage or our disadvantage. A reader WILL do it, whether we want them to or not. If we're aware of it when we first introduce a scene, it can be to our advantage. A few carefully chosen words can set a scene by placing it in a well-known category, which is especially helpful when it's a part you don't want bogged down by description. If we're aware of it when we're introducing a character, helping the reader put them into a category with the words we choose can get them thinking exactly what we want them to think about that character (whether it's a correct assumption on their part, or whether we want them to learn it's incorrect later).

As readers and writers, we already know that words are pretty darn powerful. That's what we expect when we read or write a book-- to transport us fully, completely, powerfully somewhere else.

Isn't it amazing that even A SINGLE WORD can do the same thing?

(And in case you wanted to know if you were right, here's the answer to which square is different on the all green one:)



Surviving Space

You guys.

Space is scary. Like, seriously, seriously scary. Basically, every single thing about space is designed specifically to kill you.

Which is why I love it so much.

Recently there've been two things about surviving space that I've absolutely loved. The first is a movie, the second a book, and if you're as fascinated with the terrifying void of the universe that cares nothing about your survival as I am, then definitely check both of these wonderful works out!

The first is the movie Gravity, which our own Lissa Price spoke about before, and which I reviewed on my own blog (both spoiler-free). I won't rehash everything we've already discussed (although can I get a shout out for totally knowing that Gravity would sweep the Oscars?), but I did want to remind everyone of some of my favorite parts of the movie.

Namely: surviving space.

This is the part of the movie that shines. Above the (small) personal story of the main character of the movie, the story is really about the struggle to survive and even if one should try to survive. There's a moment when Sandra Bullock's character contemplates just giving up, and I don't think anyone would argue with her that it would be, by far, the easiest option.

Surviving space requires so much more--more effort, more resources, more determination--more everything just to survive.

And that is something author Andy Weir nailed in his book, The Martian



This book was an amazing find for me because not only did I love it, but so did my husband. It's the very definition of "cross-over"--a book that would appeal to YA and adult readers, to male and female readers.

The story follows Mark Watney, a member of a mission to Mars from NASA. After an unfortunate series of invents that caused him to be wounded (and presumed dead) during a dust storm on the surface of Mars, his crew leaves. But...Watney is very much alive. And now he has to find a way to survive living on Mars until the next mission arrives, several years in the future.

The thing that blew me away with this book is how very, very possible it all was. It's clear that Weir is a mastermind plotter and that he did his research--if the blurb from space-hero Commander Hadfield doesn't convince you of that, you need only read the pages to see that everything is plausible. The science and math is all right there on the page for you--although I want to be clear that if you're not a science/math person (like me!) this book is still wonderful.

The survival aspect of The Martian is where Weir really shines. Everything that could go wrong, does, but at each twist and turn, Watney finds a method to survive. From explosive decompress to starvation, Watney will not give up on life.

For me, the most important factors of the novel were in the development of Watney's psychology on being the only person on the barren surface of a planet and the psychology of a world helplessly watching him try to survive and being utterly unable to. The ultimate conclusion of the novel was nail-bittingly terrifying, and I honestly had no idea what would happen.

If you love space or if you're terrified of space, you should absolutely check out this amazing novel!





Learning from the master, Joss Whedon

I am a huge fan of watching the director commentaries on shows you love as a method of improving your writing skills, especially when it comes from a writer you really love. And one of the writers I love best is Joss Whedon, because, well, he's freaking brilliant. I was on a panel last month titled "Joss Whedon is My Master Now" at Life, the Universe, and Everything with Bree Despain, Robert J Defendi, Chersti Nieveen, and Michael Young. Among geeking out about all things Joss Whedon, we talked about the things we learned from Joss that helped our writing.

Like that moment in season 5 of Buffy when she found her mom dead on the couch. When Buffy first saw her, she said, "Mom?" then "Mom?" a little more intensely, then "Mommy?" (Seen in the first few seconds of this clip.) This episode was so critically acclaimed in part because the reactions were so real. No matter how old you are, when you lose a parent, you become a kid again. It's a great example of how to write death scenes well, when the character who dies is one that the main character was very close to.

 

When Captain Mal was introduced in the pilot episode of Firefly, he was being... well, the Mal that aims to misbehave. And as a viewer, we weren't quite sure if he was the guy we were supposed to root for. I mean, was he even a good guy? He was just off thieving, after all. Then being ornery toward his crew.

Then Kaylee, the heart of the ship, gives him a kiss and says "I love my captain." And since she is who she is, and if she says that the captain is someone you should love, we immediately believe that we should. That's the beauty of supporting characters-- since they know your main character the best, we believe them when they say awesome things about them. Things you can't get across so effectively any other way.


One of the best (and most painful!) pieces of advice I've ever heard came from the commentary of Angel, the episode in season 3 called Waiting in the Wings. The episode's conception came when Joss learned that Amy Acker (Fred) was classically trained in ballet. He wrote an entire episode about the ballet with this in mind, knowing that he wanted Wesley (Alexis Denisof), who was in love with Fred, to fall asleep during the ballet, and to dream about the two of them on the stage, doing their own ballet. They filmed the scene, and it was HILARIOUS. They were both in leotards and Fred was dancing beautifully, and Wesley was, well.... not. It was a fantastic scene.

Joss (left), Alexis (middle), Amy (right). photo credit: the2scoops via photopin cc
Then, in editing, Joss realized that the episode just wasn't working. Something was wrong, and he just couldn't seem to fix it. Then he remembered some advice he got once-- If something isn't working, remove your favorite part.

Ouch.

Remove your favorite part. Ouch, ouch, ouch. 

Of course, the scene with Fred and Wesley doing ballet together was his favorite part. It was, after all, what inspired the entire episode. But he took it out, and then was able to make the changes needed for the episode to work. He said that too often, we try to bend the plot to the scene we're in love with, when that's not what the story needs. And when we are so in love with a certain part, it makes it more difficult to see what needs to change.

Excellent advice, Mr. Whedon. Painful, but excellent.

If you're a Joss Whedon fan, what episode / scene did you learn the most from? Or if you've watched any other great commentaries, who do you think you've learned the most from?



Change is Good: Addition Over Subtraction

Earlier this week, I talked about how, over the decades, science fiction has grown by leaps and bounds, rising up in the face of an ever-changing world to combat xenophobia. And I thought I'd said all that I wanted to say on the topic.

But then the brilliant Gwenda Bond posted an article called "Call the Reading Police," and I realized I had one more thing to say.

I remember early on in my writing career (which, honestly, isn't that long anyway), joining a conversation online with professional writers. It was a thrill for me just to be able to talk to these idols of mine--it was like getting invited to the ultimate cool kids table.

But you know, the only thing I really remember happened near the beginning of the conversation.

Moderator: We have a lot of new people this time. New writers, please introduce yourself and your debut work.
Me: I'm Beth Revis, and I wrote Across the Universe, a YA science fiction.
Veteran Colleague: Oh, like a dystopia? Another Hunger Games?
Me: No, not really--it takes place on a space ship.
Veteran Colleague: I have no idea why you'd bother to write that; we already have the Heinlein juveniles. 

I was...gobsmacked. At the time, I was so shocked and cowled that I just ultimately silently left the conversation. How does one recover from that? I was essentially told by someone who I'd hoped to be encouraged by that my work was useless, and there was no place for it.

I have since learned to not be silent about this topic. Which is good, because at a signing I did in November, an audience member (who also happened to be an aspiring SF writer) accused me of plagiarizing Heinlein. His reasoning? Heinlein also has a story with a generational space ship. And this is not the first time such an accusation has been laid at my feet--at least a half dozen other people have said the same, often to my face, in person.

Because of my space ship. Because I have a space ship in my novel and write for teens, I have been accused of plagiarizing an author whose works I have never read.

It's not that I've not tried to read Heinlein before. I almost made it to the end of Starship Troopers when the movie came out. And I've started a couple more of his works. While I respect and appreciate all Heinlein has done for the genre, I couldn't help but feel his works were not written for me. I was born a few years before his death; we are of very different generations. And I'm a female, and, frankly, his works are not very kind to females.

And yet, the pervading argument among some is that there is very little need for more YA SF; after all, we already have the Heinlein juveniles.

Lest you think I'm exaggerating about how prevalent this attitude is among the community, let me point you to this Locus Roundtable discussion, held because so many people were posing the very same question during a series of posts about SF for kids and teens. Or how about this article by John Scalzi, commenting on this article by a publishing professional which argues that Heinlein is the ruler against which all other SF is measured. Or, just ask your friendly local YA SF author--nearly every YA SF author I've met has mentioned a similar attitude to their work by some.

Now, one of the most important things I want to make clear now before saying anything else is simply this: I do not want to take away from Heinlein's legacy. Although his work is not for me, I don't want it gone.

I experienced a similar attitude when I was in college, working on my Masters degree in literature. I'm in the South, so of course, everyone likes Faulkner. Everyone, that is, except me. I actually rather dislike Faulker, and find his works pretentious, and aside from a handful of his short stories (which I think have as much substance as his novels, just, thankfully, more succinct), I don't like anything he's written.

This did not go over well in most of my classes.

The thing is: despite the fact that some of my professors loved Faulkner with an all-burning passion, he is not the be-all and end-all in literature. There is NO standard against which all literature can be measured, because literature is personal. Literature is more than just the words on the page; those words morph and become something more in the mind of the reader. And that cannot be measured.

That said, I cannot deny that Faulkner means a lot to some people, and that some people find something within his words that I simply do not see.

So I don't want to take away from what Faulkner is and has done. I don't want to take away from what Heinlein is and has done.

But what I am saying is this: we should not stop writing.

The suggestion behind the Heinlein debate is that Heinlein's juveniles were the epitome. YA SF peaked there, and everything else is downhill. That nothing more needs to be said.

And that, frankly, is bullshit.

Here's the thing: we will never have the epitome of story. Never, ever. The world is constantly changing, and while there are threads within our stories that always stay the same, the shape of those stories is just as amorphous as the world we live in.

As literature evolves, it is not at all about denying the history of the genre. Heinlein has a great place in history, and even if I've not been influenced by his work directly, I know that he's influenced the world of SF enough that his mark is on most of the genre today. I don't want to take away from what he's done--no more than any author--and his work still has power in the hands of the right reader.

But I also present a plea to the YA SF community. Change is good. Moving on from Heinlein isn't about forgetting him. We're not taking away from his legacy by adding to it.

Illustration by Zen Pencils; available for purchase here