Smart Bitches

once more, with feeling: accent, dialect, language

Over at Smart Bitches there’s a long and winding conversation about various points in linguistics, particularly historical linguistics, accent, and the portrayal of such things in the written language. I put in my two cents, of course. But as the conversation gets more into details, I am having to resist trampling in there to set up my lecture podium.

So I’ll do it here.

Actually, all I’m doing is this: here’s chapter two (“The Myth of Non-Accent”) of English with an Accent: Language Ideology and Discrimination in the United States. You’ll need the ole standard Adobe Reader to open it.

It was written for an introductory course, so it’s pretty accessible — although the ground work set up in the first chapter is (of course) missing. English with an Accent is still used as the standard text in universities courses on the sociolinguistic nature of language variation in the U.S. Just to establish some credentials and/or perspective.

This chapter specifically addresses the definition and use of the word ‘accent’ from two directions. The first is L1 (First Language) — the way you speak your native tongue(s), and L2 (Second Language) — the way native language marks any language you’ll learn after (approximately) puberty.

For any linguists dropping by here, this is not meant to open up a discussion on the Black Box or the critical period (both of which I subscribe to, but don’t want to debate just here and now).

So if you’re interested, please have a look and post your thoughts.

update: reviews and accountability

***[this post was corrected and revised after jmc pointed out a misconception on my part; also, links have yet to be updated]***

Last week I wrote a couple posts about the nature of book reviews, specifically on the internet, and my take on the matter of a reviewer’s responsibilities. My reasons for doing this stem from other discussions over a number of different weblogs, in particular an exchange with Jane of Dear Author. That particular discussion took place some months ago on Smart Bitches. To summarize my part of the original debate as neatly as possible, a short bit from my comment:

What really pisses me off about this is that the reviewer has no accountability.

And an excerpt from Jane’s response:

…The reviewer owes the author nothing. NOTHING. Is the author paying for the review? Is the reviewer somehow indebted to the author? How does the reviewer owe anything to the author? WHy the sense of outraged entitlement?

As you can see, I waited until the dust had settled before I posted my thoughts here. Jane commented on that post, and I responded to her comment with a clarification and a question for her. Jane didn’t respond here to my question, which of course is her right.

Right now there’s an interesting back and forth between Jane and many of her readers regarding a book she reviewed and gave a flunking grade, and a summary post about her approach to reviewing. On some aspects of this debate I agree with Jane, and on others, with her detractors. I suggest you go over there to read the whole thing if you’re interested in this greater discussion of the nature and tone of reviews. Jane ends with the observation that nobody is obliged to read her weblog or her reviews, which she writes for her personal satisfaction. Reviewing is a hobby for her and not a profession.

I stand by my position that anybody, hobbyist or professional, who makes a review public does have some responsibilities. There is an unspoken contract between the reviewer and the public. But I am also mindful of this particular definition of responsibility from Bierce’s The Devil’s Dictionary:

RESPONSIBILITY, n. A detachable burden easily shifted to the shoulders of God, Fate, Fortune, Luck or one’s neighbor. In the days of astrology it was customary to unload it upon a star.

I find that the nature and tone of reviews and author-reviewer interaction on the internet is evolving in a troubling direction. Part of the confusion that abounds has to do with the fact that the people discussing it (me included) have not always distinguished between matters of content and tone. My two cents: every reviewer is entitled to an opinion, which may be well or poorly argued. Every reviewer has his or her own style. I sometimes find Jane’s style and tone hostile toward the author. The only thing I can do about this personally is to first, express my opinion (which I’ve now done, ad nauseum). And of course I can vote with my feet, something that Jane suggests as well, and I will take her up on.

oh, the pressure

I’ve got an urge to hide in the back of my closet with a big bar of chocolate. And why, you’re wondering. Or maybe not, but I’ll tell you anyway.

It’s not the deadline for getting the first pass proofs of QoS back to the publisher; it’s not the deadline for finishing Pajama Jones. Or at least, these things produce the normal day to day pressure that I can (usually) cope with.

The source of my wanting to hide in the closet has to do with the fact that Tied to the Tracks is about to come out. This is always the worst time. Waiting for reviews is never fun. And today the publicist emailed me with news about what she was up to (all good stuff, yes) to ask that I keep her in the loop about whatever publicity/marketing stuff I was doing for Tied to the Tracks.

Now, see. Beyond posting here once in a while, I’m not really doing anything to promote Tied to the Tracks because well, I’m busy with the next book. And then today Fuse#8 posts about a small press book that has hit number one on Amazon before it even came out because of the efforts undertaken by its blogging author. Now I feel like a slacker.

And on top of that, over at the Smart Bitches there’s a discussion about ARCs being sold (on ebay and elsewhere), about unscrupulous reviewers making a buck off ARCs, and how authors feel about that. A rather sharp discussion has broken out in the comments. Some readers are disgusted with us authors. Authors have no right to be angry about the ARC issue; we are all whiny babies, some of those commenters tell us, and we should get over ourselves.

A thought comes to me. A crazy but perhaps ingenious idea. A cyber fistfight, a hair-pulling screaming cursing girl rumble between me and an angry Smart Bitch commenter. Now, that’s what I call publicity. It’ll get picked up on the news services, and people will click there way here to watch the bloodshed. What’s this all about? they’ll ask, and somebody will tell them: this new book, see. Tied to the Tracks, it’s called. And there’s something called an arc. I heard a guy say it’s some kinda sequel to that Raiders movie, Harrison Ford’s gonna play the lead. You wanna buy a copy, you’d best get moving, bub. I hear they’re all sold out at Amazon and Barnes and Noble too. Look at the way those two are going at it. I ain’t seen a spectacle like this in years, I tell ya. Years. Must be some book.

masterworks up for grabs

[asa left]B000BNPFY2[/asa] Ann Moore and I live in the same town, and once in a while (not often enough) we run into each other at book events. Her trilogy of historicals set in Ireland and the U.S. do a compelling job of bringing the 19th century immigration experience to life. The first one in the series is Gracelin O’Malley, then Leaving Ireland, and the third and final ‘Til Morning Light.

[asa right]0385721307[/asa] We had a good discussion about cover art at one point and so she just sent me a link to a page about the use (and reuse) of older portraits on covers for historical fiction. You’ll see, if you wander over there, that the year Ann’s Leaving Ireland came out, the same woman’s face was used on two other historical novels.

Under the Wild MoonThe thing is, these older portraits are gorgeous, and I’m guessing they cost the publisher little or nothing to use. Certainly I prefer Leonardo’s Lady with an Ermine (as seen here on Quattrocentoby James McKean) to the more lurid cover art for historicals (this example, from Under the Wild Moon by Diana Carey, I snurched from Smart Bitches).

I’m always keeping my eyes open for portraits that would make good cover art. Not that any publisher would necessarily do anything about a suggestion like that — most of them have very specific ideas about what belongs on a cover, and seldom do publisher and author agree. But I keep track anyway.