July, 2012

Just the Facts, Ma’am

One of the fun little debates in math education is over the importance of “knowing your math facts.” By this, people generally mean having your times tables memorized, that kind of thing.

How important is this? I admit, it’s a little frustrating when I’m trying to get a student to understand a complex higher-math problem (algebra, maybe), and they get slowed down trying to remember what nine-times-six equals.

On the other hand, I find it more worrisome when a student has their multiplication facts down pat, but can’t problem-solve enough to figure out that multiplying is what they’re supposed to do in the first place.

Then there’s my favorite situation: Students who know their multiplication facts, but have to count it out to add or subtract.

Instead of memorizing math facts, I’m more a fan of developing math fluency. When I was in elementary school, I had most of my times tables down, but struggled with the twelves. It didn’t matter, though, because I knew I could just multiply by eleven then add the number I wanted to multiply by twelve. I could do it quickly enough that my teachers never knew I hadn’t memorized those facts.

And it didn’t matter.

That’s math fluency. It requires having some math facts under your belt, but more importantly, a fundamental understanding of operations and how they work.

What do you think? What are the benefits of memorizing math facts? How did you handle learning those facts in school? Would you do it differently if you could go back?

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Twitter Tips: The #FF Faux Pas

On Wednesday, I talked about some Facebook pet peeves. Today it’s time for another little talk about Twitter.

If you’re on Twitter, you’re probably familiar with the #FF (Follow Friday) trend. The idea is that you use the hashtag to give a shout-out to someone you think other people should follow. Here’s what a lot of the #FF tweets in my feed look like:

#FF @ThatOneGuy @TheOtherDude @ACoolChick @MyBFF @SuperAwesomeLady @BoyITweetedOnce

Um … I have to confess. I’ve never once followed anyone who showed up in a list like that.

A slight improvement might look like this:

#FF some cool writers @WritesALot @WritesAndReads @AnotherAuthor @FictionaholicsAnonymous

At least I know they’re writers, but … I already follow a lot of cool writers. I get random writers following me because they found “writer” in my profile, and I already have to decide whether to follow them back. I’m not in the camp of trying to follow every writer on Twitter.

What would an effective #FF look like (in my opinion)? It’d take a little more effort and require spreading a little less love, but that love would be more apparently sincere. For example:

#FF @SaraMegibow for her #10queriesin10tweets every Thurs. Great stuff!

Or …

#FF @bigblackcat97 for no-nonsense YA, rural-life hilarity, and general randomosity.

Like I said the last time I talked about Twitter, tweet like you mean it.

As a corollary, the “reply all” style thank-yous for #FF mentions. Here’s my thinking. If I’m already mentioned in the #FF, I saw it. Why do I need to see that someone else in the list thanked the initial tweeter?

Of course, that leads to a bigger question: Is our goal in thanking someone to show gratitude, or to be seen to show gratitude?

And have I been guilty of all of the above at one time or another? Absolutely. But I’m going to try to do better.

What are your thoughts on #FF? Do you find them effective? How so? Please share your tips and tricks.

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The Dilemma of Authors on Facebook

It’s a question that comes up all the time on AgentQuery Connect. How (if at all) should authors use Facebook?

After being heavily involved in a couple of online writers’ communities, I ended up with a lot of writer-friends on Facebook. Some are aspiring, some are self-published, some work with (or have founded their own) small presses, some are agented, and some are traditionally published.

I admit, I’ve been cutting back on my Facebook use because it’s gotten overwhelming. Book release parties, announcements for signings, groups for these authors, groups for those authors … and that’s in addition to the invites, groups, and requests to play some game or another that I get from non-writing friends.

Slightly overwhelming, especially when I want to keep my Facebook check-in time brief.

I tried just ignoring things, focusing on what I prioritized, but darn if Facebook doesn’t make notifications obnoxious. If I get added to a group, I get a notification every time someone (or a friend, at least) posts in that group. If I get invited to an event, I get a notification when a friend posts in that event, even before I’ve gone in to say Join, Maybe, or Decline.

So, I say no. Not to everything, but to a lot of things.

Turns out for some of these things (Events, at least), the person in charge gets notified when I decline. Enter the guilt.

Cluttering feeds doesn’t sell books. Neither do guilt trips (at least not for me). How, then, does one effectively use Facebook as an author?

I’ll throw a few ideas out there, all of them theoretical from my perspective, and all of them just my opinion. I’m sure others will disagree.

Use a separate page. Either an Author Page or a Book Page for a specific book/series. Whatever you like. Let us know the page is there (and link to it conveniently on your blog/website), and then use that page for posting promotional information.

Don’t double-dip. This might just be me. If so, no problem. I’ll chalk it up to another of my picky quirks. But once you have that separate page, don’t simul-post the same information to both it and your personal account. Sure, some people will only see one or the other, but those of your friends who also Liked your page? Shows up twice back-to-back.

Be judicious in your use of Events and Groups. I’m fine with the occasional event invitation. When Events are created for every little thing, though, it crosses into the land of annoyance. I’ve never set up an Event, but I assume it’s possible to not invite ALL your Facebook friends. Choose invitees mindfully. Groups are especially tricky since Facebook allows you to add friends to groups without really asking them.
Think before you add—Does this person really fit the parameters of this group?

Don’t take it personally. If a friend declines an invitation or leaves a group you added them to, don’t assume it means they hate you, or are jerky poo-heads. Everyone has their own way of using Facebook, and maybe your event or group doesn’t fit in their model. And remember that it’s much more likely to reflect an annoyance with Facebook and its settings than you personally.

Do you have any tips or tricks for making Facebook use easier? Pet peeves of your own that you’ve seen done by writers? What ways do you see Facebook working for authors?

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Time May Be Relative, But You Can Control It

Are you guys familiar with Einstein’s big idea about time being relative? It’s one of my favorite topics in physics, but I know some people aren’t as crazy about it. (In my mom’s words, it makes her mind go “blinky.”)

Here’s the basic idea, and it has to do with the speed of light in a vacuum being constant no matter the speed of the source. Suppose one person stays on Earth while another flies away on a spaceship going a significant fraction of the speed of light. Also suppose that they magically have a way of keeping an eye on each other instantaneously as the one travels.

To the guy on Earth, a day passes, but his monitor of the spaceship shows only a handful of minutes has passed there.

To the guy on the spaceship, a day passes, but his monitor of Earth shows years have passed there.

(The exact ratios depend on what fraction of the speed of light the spaceship is going, but you get the idea, I hope.)

Does that seem really bizarre and out there? It shouldn’t. We run across the same thing all the time in our writing efforts.

(Yes, I just segued from Einstein to writing fiction.)

Sometimes you read a scene that’s supposed to happen in a matter of seconds, but you feel like it takes hours. Or significant time is supposed to pass, but it feels like the blink of an eye.

Time passage mismatch = PROBLEM

The most obvious solution may be a matter of real estate on the page. Something that’s supposed to happen quickly takes only a line or two. The passage of more time gets several paragraphs.

That might work in certain situations, but what if the details of that super-quick scene are significant? What if nothing of note happened in the passage of three months?

In the first situation, how do you get those details in there without getting that feeling of sluggishly trudging along? I’ve had some success with shorter, snappier sentences, particularly in fight scenes and the like.

In the second situation, how do you get across that passage of time without just a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it statement of “Three months later…”? I think that’s a matter of transitions. Those three words may be too little. Several paragraphs about a lot of irrelevant nothing happening during those months is too much. But a few carefully worded sentences in the transition can give that weight, get the reader in that feeling of time passing.

Those are the first solutions that came to my mind, but I’m sure there are more. What tips do you have for controlling your readers’ perception of time?

And for those of you interested, here’s one of my favorite clips explaining that whole time dilation concept.

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What’s a Waste?

Waste. To misuse, squander, flush down the toilet. Seems easy enough to define, right?

But what really constitutes wasting something?

This summer marks a big change for me. I left an excellent job teaching at a school for the deaf so I could move back closer to my family. This fall I’ll start a new (likely excellent) job in a regular public school, teaching math to hearing kids.

It’s where I started my teaching career, three years of regular ed. Then I flew away to western New York for two years of grad school, followed by the last six years teaching deaf kids. Now I’ve come full-circle, heading back to a classroom where my fluency in ASL will be a quirk, not a job requirement.

The notion has been raised more than once that it’s sort of a shame, because I’m ‘wasting’ the master’s degree I earned.

Am I? Have the past eight years been a waste?

First off, I intend to find a way to get involved with the Deaf community here. I don’t know what shape that will take, but I’ll look for the right opportunity. Plus, certain former students know they can drop me a line if they need some math-help-by-webcam.

Even without that, though, I don’t think anything about the past eight years has been a waste. My years in the world of deaf education helped me figure out what it took to be independent, taught this hopeless introvert how to fake it when I have to, and brought people into my life that I can’t imagine missing out on.

That’s the most important part—the people. Through the people I’ve interacted with, I learned more about my own strengths and weaknesses, and I’ve explored new avenues. Without the environment I was in, and the people surrounding me, would I have ever thought to attempt writing a novel?

I kind of doubt it.

And if I had, I suspect my stories and characters would have been very different, probably not in a good way.

My journey through grad school and a school for the deaf may look like an erroneous detour that I’ve now pressed the reset button on, but it’s not. I’ve continued moving forward, even though that’s brought me back to where I started. I’m not the same as when I started, so this next stage in my journey isn’t what it would’ve been if I’d stayed here to begin with.

Anything that enriches your life can’t be a waste. That’s how I see it, anyway.

Does anyone else know the feeling? Have you done something that looked on the surface like wasting something—your time, your skills, your potential? What inner value do you hold onto, keeping it out of the waste bucket?

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We’re, Like, Y’know, in the FUTURE!

Today’s post is kind of an extension of last week’s Putting the Sci in Sci-Fi. But first, some lead-in.

Those of you who are on Twitter may know that @AngelaJames (executive editor at Carina Press) occasionally does an #EditReport session where she shares quotes from her editors on why manuscripts were rejected, then concludes with quotes on acceptances. In a recent session, the following tweet popped up:

“Characters read more like contemporary characters dropped in an historical world rather than being authentically historical.” #editreport
— Angela James (@angelajames) June 25, 2012

I’ve noticed the same problem occasionally in science fiction, most particularly in YA. The characters are a little too much like teenagers of today plunked down in some futuristic setting. When that happens, it doesn’t matter how much awesome world-building you’ve done. Your characters reveal it all to be cardboard backdrops on a junior high stage.

Would characters in your story still wear jeans? I mean, jeans have been around a while, so maybe, especially if it’s near-future. But maybe not. Would they still say “cool” or “awesome” or “creeper” or “legit”?

It’s a dilemma, though. Especially that bit about the language. Any type of current slang in a definitely-not-current setting will knock me right out of the story. On the other hand, I know invented slang is tricky, often making readers feel like these out-of-the-blue words are being shoved down their throats.

Remember the bit in Mean Girls where poor Gretchen tries to force her own slang upon the world?

(where I got this)

Sometimes when reading, I feel like giving the characters and/or author the same response Queen-Bee Regina finally gave:

With my own efforts at invented slang, I’ve tried to make it as organic as possible. Often what I do is take something current and twist it a bit. So far, it’s gotten good reactions from people who are ordinarily pretty picky about such things.

We don’t know what the future will be like. We don’t know what teenagers then will be like. That’s part of the fun of writing science fiction. At the same time, we want these characters to have a core that our modern-day readers can relate to. So it’s yet another balancing act for us to manage.

Do you have any tricks for making futuristic teens futuristic enough without losing their common thread with teen readers? Any pet peeves about too-contemporary elements showing up in a far-removed time period?

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