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And then you have that moment that freezes you. A hundred things to do, a hundred distractions, brain going a hundred miles a minute and then it all just stops. The spinning, the panic, the deadlines, the need to rush, rush, rush. All of a sudden you freeze and even if the wolves were at your door, you can’t get moving again. You’ve lost all momentum. Then your brain starts to ramp up. Things to do, prioritizing tasks, consequences of ignoring tasks move across your consciousness, then begin to run and swirl until it is all one big jumble. But your body remains frozen. It won’t be compelled to action, because unlike your brain, your body responds to your heart, and the truth of the matter is that it is your heart that is frozen through. Terrified, petrified, stuck wide-eyed in the middle of the highway waiting for the impending doom. Your brain knows what needs to be done.

Your brain knows the work that will make your heart beat again. Will make your heart sing again. But the body won’t listen to the brain, its taking its cues from the heart. A classic chicken or egg conundrum. The heart won’t beat until the work is done, but the brain can’t do the work until the heart beats. Silence, silence all around. The brain screams at the body, “Do the work! Do the work and the heart will follow!” Slowly there is a flutter, not in the heart but in the hands. The brain is getting through, the hands will listen. The hands do not need the heart, they are tools to be used.  They move, they type, the page slowly fills. The brain keeps up its insistent mantra, “Do the work. Do the work. Do the work. The heart will follow”

The pages fill. The head discards them. The hands fill more pages. The head discards them. The work is being done, but without the heart it isn’t any good. The brain starts to waver, the conviction is lost, “But I’ve done the work, why hasn’t the heart followed. Why won’t the heart beat?” Through the despair a tiny voice breaks in from the hands.

“It’s not enough. We must do more work.”

With no better option to put to plan, the brain starts up its mantra once more. This time a drone,

“Do the work. Do the work. Do the work.”

Over and over and over again. The pages are filled the head discards. The pages are filled, the head discards. The hands ache with cramps and the brain’s mantra has turned into soft, but steady pounding on the wall. The brain is so intent on moving forward, building the momentum, building the framework, keeping the work going, that it fails to notice the tiniest of beats coming from the chest. Faint and weak to start. The fear is still strong, the heart doesn’t know if it’s safe to move. But the endless monotony coming from the brain acts as a catalyst, a promise of protection with its unending chant.

“Do the work. Do the work. Do the work. Do the work.”

The heart takes a risk and takes a step. It is smooth and solid ground. The beat strengthens as a second and a third step are taken in complete safety. The road has been paved. Slowly the heart begins to explore and the beat grows strong, infusing the body and thawing the blood. The fogs roll away and the way is clear. The heart can now skip and dance, free in this world. The hands cease aching and fly across the keys. The pages fill. The pages fill. The head goes to discard and stops. It’s amazed. The work is good. The brain quietly lets its mantra die into nothingness and with this new silence it hears the beat of the heart. Relief and gratitude fills the brain. The terror has past, the fear is gone.

The brain looks to the heart, “You followed.”

The heart looks to the brain, “You did the work.”

Do The Work

I am a smart person. In fact, I would place myself in the above average intelligence category. (I’m also very humble.) However, sometimes it is that very intelligence that makes me really stupid. I can usually pick things up or figure them out on my own fairly quickly. However, when I can’t, instead of asking for help or reading more than a sentence or two of the instructions I try again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again, until I’m ready to rip my freaking hair out because I can’t get it to work! (There’s also a fair bit of stubbornness in there.) At this point, I finally break down and read the instructions while swearing under my breath about stupid programming/interfaces/construction, etc. It is while reading the instructions – or googling how-to’s if there are no instructions – that I realize that I am a complete idiot and have wasted insane amounts of time.

9 times out of 10 I was doing it correctly from the very beginning, except for one simple step. Or forgetting to press one button. Something so simple and easy, that had I fully read and followed the instructions after my first attempt I would have been done in a matter of minutes. Now there is always that 1 out of 10 that even if you read and follow the instructions to the letter you still need an old priest and a new priest to get it to turn out okay – in case you’re wondering, I’m referring to any “Easy Assembly” furniture. That shit is never easy! Which means that 10% of the time I never had a chance in hell and 90% of the time I’m a complete idiot by refusing to read the instructions because I think can figure it out myself!

Facepalm for an IDIOTThose aren’t good odds. I’m not a math major, but you don’t have to be to know that those aren’t good odds. In fact, if you were in Vegas playing Blackjack, those are the same odds of busting if you hit on 20. Nobody hits on 20 in Blackjack. Not even the gambling addict or the drunk sorority girl in platform heels playing with daddy’s money, hits on 20. Because you are practically guaranteed to lose. So you would think, that being an intelligent woman who knows these odds, I would just suck it up and read the directions fully after the first attempt fails.

Nope. Nope, nope, nope, nope, nope. It’s ridiculous! The stubborn runs strong in me. Apparently stronger than the intelligence. I have spent the past three weeks fighting with the images in my children’s book trying to get them to format correctly, and line up correctly, and not come across as complete gibberish in the previewer. I tried it as a PDF, then as an ePub. I tried it with each page as its own image and I tried it with each double page spread as a single image. I read a paragraph here or there in the directions and tried those suggestions. Fail, fail, fail, fail, fail. Finally I tried reading the freaking directions from start to finish. Guess what they told me to do? Download a free program, stick my PDF into it, and hit the publish button. Within an hour – most of which was upload time – I had a beautiful file uploaded to Kindle that looks great in the previewer. So if you are a writer looking to publish to Kindle, please learn from my mistakes – because lord knows I don’t seem to be capable of doing so – read ALL of the instructions BEFORE you start.

I am an idiot.

Amy w: Book

Amy’s not an idiot though. She’s smart, she got the book.

 

*Shameless plug of self-promotion: My book, Children Have Got to Be Carefully Taught is now available for pre-order on Kindle! Click here.

As a writer, I provide quite a bit of content on the web for free, mostly on my blog. It is content meant to entertain or spark a conversation or thought. I’ve never tried to sell it, nor do I make any money on it. It is meant to be read, enjoyed and shared with friends. However, I’ve started to notice a trend that I don’t think I can quite jump on board with. There are now programs out there that make it really easy to put together a virtual newsletter or newspaper, and people are making them left and right. However, some of them, instead of creating the content themselves, troll Twitter and the internet and pull other people’s work to fill the inches of their newsletter. I’ve noticed that my work is popping up in these more and more. When I saw the first one, I got a little bit of a thrill. I won’t lie, it was a nice ego stroke. But as it happened again, and again, and again the glamour of it wore off.

When someone shares a link on Facebook or retweets one of my pieces on Twitter, awesome! Thank you for sharing. When someone mentions one of my pieces in their blog piece, or even better provides a link to one of my pieces, awesome! Thank you for sharing. But at what point does it stop being sharing and become a re-appropriation of work? When somebody puts together and shares a newsletter that is composed entirely of other people’s work, is it still considered sharing? They call it their newsletter, but it’s my work, and the work of others, filling the space. I was never consulted nor asked if that was okay, I’m sure the other “contributors” weren’t either.

Even worse, I actually had a newspaper take one of my theater reviews and run it in their paper. I was given the byline so it wasn’t plagiarism, but you can bet your sweet ass that my editor was up in arms about it when I told him. The other newspaper was told that under no uncertain terms were they to ever run another one of my reviews unless they had specifically asked me to review for their paper. It never happened again. So what’s the difference? I write my blogs for my website. I write my articles for a specific magazine. I have never had any contract or agreement to write for a newsletter and yet I keep finding my work in them. So I’m left with the conundrum or whether I should be upset about this, or just appreciate the extra exposure.

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Let’s face it, I’m not making millions of dollars off of my writing. Hell I’m not even making a living off of my writing. I provide my blog, free of charge for whoever wants to read it. So why does it stick in my craw every time I see my work in one of these newsletters? I think it’s because, unlike a retweet or share on Facebook, these people are trying to benefit off of my work. Whether they want to get thousands of twitter followers because of their newsletter, or the link goes back to a website where they sell ad space, they are getting personal gain by re-appropriating my work and they’re doing so without ever contacting me to ask permission. There’s the rub. But I don’t know if I’m being overly sensitive or pragmatic, or if this is something that bothers other people too. When does it go too far? When does sharing turn into an inappropriate re-appropriation of work? And the better question, what do we do about it?

What do you think? Am I making a mountain out of a mole hill, or do I have a legitimate beef?

As I have been sharing more and more of my work I have, of course, encountered more critical comments than before. Thankfully, the majority of these have come from a genuine “trying to help” place and not just someone being nasty because they can. I have however, seen something that I’d never noticed before. Every so often I will get a nay-sayer who will argue against an idea or piece so vehemently that it becomes obvious that their issue actually has very little to do with the idea/piece, but is actually to do with something in them that was triggered by the idea/piece.

That’s when I realized that I’ve seen this reaction before, outside of comments about my writing. For example, I was in college when I declared to my father that I wanted to spend all of my savings to do a summer-at-sea where I would learn about different cultures and places and visit a laundry list of countries. He was not a fan of this plan. He was a nay-sayer and came up with all sorts of reasons why I shouldn’t do it – like turmoil in certain countries. I was so confused, because this sounded like a great idea to me and an amazing opportunity. It was only after much debate that the truth of the matter came out. It wasn’t really the program, or the different locales that he objected to. He was afraid of the consequences of me emptying out my savings to do the trip. Had I not kept arguing with him, I never would have figured that out.

I think the truth of that holds for other situations as well, and now whenever I have someone who vociferously opposes or doesn’t like something, I stand back and I ask myself: Why are they a nay-sayer? Is this truly a bad idea, or is their opposition coming from somewhere else? Does their opposition have my best interests at heart, or is it coming from a place of fear, or jealousy, or somewhere else? Think about it. I actually think that the reason that some parents or families are a person’s biggest nay-sayers is because there is such a fear of what will happen if the person doesn’t succeed. They care so much that they say no and they dissuade in an attempt to keep us safe. Which is kind of backwards if you ask me, but I’ve always believed that to get what you truly want, you have to be willing to take risks. Some people don’t think that way. So who are your nay-sayers, and why are they saying nay?

naysayers

I have always considered myself a master procrastinator. Especially when it comes to do doing things like working on my writing projects. Then I realized something. It’s not that I procrastinate working on them, it’s that I don’t have a deadline. I tend to go through life at Mach 5 with my hair on fire – at least that’s how my dad describes me. I am constantly doing something, if not 2-3 some things. Writing projects, home projects, organizational projects, art projects, I think some of my projects even have projects. I will never understand how people can be bored. I have so many things on my to-do list right now that I’m set to stay busy for months (not counting the additional tasks that I’ll come up with).

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Therefore, when I come to a line on my to-do list that doesn’t have a deadline, it will often get bumped to the next day in lieu of something more immediate. Sadly, this is the category that my novel has fallen into for a very long time. Which also explains why it isn’t finished. So being the problem solver that I am, I have fixed the problem by giving myself deadlines in the form of a book club. Okay, I’ve been calling it book club, one of the participants more accurately described it as a literary salon. Basically I looked through my local friends and picked out a group of people that fit two criteria.

  1. I respect their opinions.
  2. They fall into my prime demographic.

Then I invited them over, gave them cheese and wine (it is a literary salon after all!) and we read a couple of chapters and then discussed. Three weeks later, we did it again with the next two chapters. To be honest, if this idea had done nothing but start a fire under my butt to finish my novel, I would have called it a success. swift kick What I have gotten is so much more! Yes, it’s given me deadlines and that has definitely increased my productivity and kept my novel from perpetually dropping down the never-ending to-do list, but what I wasn’t expecting, and what has been absolutely invaluable, is listening to the conversations. With the exception of asking questions, I try to stay out of the discussion completely and simply listen and take notes. It’s fantastic. Someone will throw out a comment, and sometimes people will chime in agreeing, but even better is when people disagree. Listening to the different interpretations on the same text is fascinating. Especially when somebody is right along the same lines of my own thinking for the character or scene and defending their viewpoint using the same argument that I would have made. It’s amazing! And it’s also scary, hearing the direction that some people’s thoughts are going, and then wondering if I should change something to steer them in the right direction, or if I should trust in the story that is already down on the page to steer them to where they need to be.

I love it and it’s driving me nuts all at the same time, because I want to blurt out and answer their questions and explain where the story is going. But if I did that I wouldn’t get to see the realizations and discoveries, so I’m keeping my mouth shut. Despite the fact that we’ve only met twice, I can honestly say that I don’t think I will ever produce a product like this again, without taking the time and effort to read it aloud with a group. The dynamic and the feedback are so much better than if I had asked each person to read the book individually and provide comments when they were done.

The funny thing is that I don’t think I would have been able to do something like this when I was younger. I don’t think I had the self-confidence to sit in a room and watch people as they hear my words for the first time and then discuss them. Especially since they are all well aware that my goal is to improve the text, so they’re looking at it with a critical eye. That being said, I really wish that I could go back and tell the younger me, to get over myself, suck it up and to start sharing my work as soon as possible. Writing is definitely a solitary pursuit, but for it to be good it has to be shared and critiqued. I’m really coming to realize that that is the only way to truly improve. I am also coming to realize, that when you get to pick the people you share it with, it’s not nearly as scary as you think it will be.

Calvin

 

I don’t normally blog about writing or writing tips, because quite frankly I don’t really think that much about how I write, or how someone should write. I simply write. Not to mention I’ve only ever taken one writing class in my entire life and that was back in high school, so who am I to say how best to be a writer? That being said, in the past couple of weeks I have come across the same mistake more often than normal, and now I’m annoyed that this might be becoming a trend. What is that mistake you ask? Bloggers burying the lead. Now I am not a journalist by any stretch of the imagination, however I did write for a newspaper for four years, and became well acquainted with the concept.  If you don’t grab your reader’s attention and tell them what your piece is about within the title and first couple of sentences, then they’re going to get bored and move on. People don’t like to dig for the lead.

Dogs on the other hand . . .

Dogs on the other hand . . .

Sometimes if the title is really catchy, or the topic is one that I am very interested in, I will give the piece a paragraph or two. What kills me though, is how many blog pieces or articles I have read in the past couple of weeks that buried the lead so thoroughly that even after two paragraphs the writer still hadn’t gotten to the crux of the piece. What the hell! I have an entire internet of pieces that I can read and out of all of them I chose yours. Yet, you can’t even bother to get to the point within two paragraphs? Good lord! Nobody has time for that!

Okay, maybe you grew up reading Woolf and Dickens and you want to emulate them. Maybe you love the way that they take three pages to describe the surroundings, the people, the feelings and the emotions before getting to the point. That’s great. I love them too. However, they were writing NOVELS in a time before radio or television, not BLOG POSTS for the internet talking about why schools banning yoga pants is asinine. Not to mention, loath as I am to contradict your mother, you don’t write as well as Woolf or Dickens. SO GET TO THE POINT!

A high word count does not guarantee a good blog post any more than using big words will guarantee you sound intelligent. Both of those scenarios can produce those outcomes, when used correctly. However, when used incorrectly you lose your credibility and audience. Stop losing your credibility and audience and let people enjoy what you have to say! If you’re not sure if you’re burying the lead give your titles and first paragraphs from a couple of blogs to a friend and ask them to tell you what each blog is about. If they get it wrong, or are unsure, you’re burying the lead. Don’t have a friend handy? Go over some of your older blogs yourself. If you get it wrong, then you’re really burying the lead. Get out your shovels friends and unearth your leads. Not only for your own benefit, but mine  . . . okay, mostly mine.

dropmic

I got into this great conversation with one of my neighbors last night about pseudonyms and the internet. It cracks me up, I have lived everywhere from a tiny bush village at the mouth of the Yukon River to the booming metropolis of Los Angeles. Yet it is here in Los Angeles that I have the most interaction with my neighbors. I stumbled upon this great little apartment complex that has a central courtyard, where neighbors actually hang out and chat with one another. We know each other by name and say good morning. We know whose kids belong to who and the day that Zoey ninja-ed her way out the door and made a freedom run across the courtyard, someone grabbed her without a second thought and brought her back. It’s a community and it’s great. Any who, I went over to my neighbor’s to buy a clutch purse – they’re awesome, you can get them here! – and we wound up chatting for almost two hours.

Pen Name

One of the topics that we delved into was having an internet presence. She does everything under a brand name and I do everything under my real name. Which to be completely honest, can be a little odd. If I do a google search of my name it isn’t until the third or fourth page that links start showing up that aren’t related to me in some way. Between my weekly theater reviews (and the quotes that get pulled out of those), my monthly Heroine of History articles, my blog posts, poetry, social media presence, videos and published book I am all over the internet. Don’t get me wrong, that is exactly what I was going for, but on say, a first date it’s a little awkward. I went out on a date where, judging by how much he knew about me, the guy had probably spent hours looking through my online presence. I hadn’t googled him at all, because I prefer to learn about someone from them if I have the opportunity. Therefore, he showed up with a, “I already know a ton about you so this feels like a third or fourth date,” while I showed up with a, “You seem like a cool guy, this will be a fun first date,” attitude. Needless to say, it didn’t turn out well. I don’t know about anyone else, but I prefer to save in-depth talk about my dead mother until well into the relationship. Awkward!

Mask Girl

Yet at the same time, I obviously have no qualms with writing a blog about the subject and if someone comments on that blog I don’t find it odd in the least. There is something so surreal about the internet. It is at once anonymous and personal. You can share parts of yourself openly and get feedback and reassurance that you’re not alone. There are people out there that understand and have gone through similar. Sometimes it’s the person behind the user id providing me comfort and sometimes it’s the other way around. In a sense it’s no less of a community than what exists at my apartment complex, it just exists in the ether and can be carried around with me wherever I go. I guess choosing to use my real name instead of a pen name blurs the boundaries and gives me an identifiable anonymity . . .

. . . that just made my brain hurt . . . I need more coffee . . .

I’ve been helping out a friend by rewriting some marketing materials for her book that is about to release. On the last go round, she questioned one of my word choices – miscreant – wondering if the “dumber crowd” will understand . . .

Two huge red flags began waving through my head like Enjolras on the barricade had gotten a hold of them. The first red flag was a biggie, the second was a pet peeve. So I asked her about the first and kept the second to myself. I asked her, “Who’s your demographic?” I realized that we had never had this conversation. From what I know of her book, I had come up with my own idea of her audience, which did not include the “dumber crowd.” So if she was indeed marketing to that group, then everything we had done needed to be reworked, not just that word. Her response to demographic could best be described as vague and all-encompassing. In other words, she had no idea. Needless to say, she has some homework to do before we pick back up.

LES MIZ

As for the second red flag, you all get to hear me rant about that. It drives me absolutely bonkers when writers, or anyone for that matter, play down to the lowest common denominator. That’s one of the problems with our society today. We’re so busy making sure everybody understands and fits in that we’re creating a bunch of lazy, half literate complaisants that think seriously is spelled srsly.

My children’s book, which is geared toward pre-k kids is written at a middle school grade level, and guess what? Kids love it, and I have yet to hear a complaint from parents that it’s too difficult. Why? Because kids like learning new things … especially when they rhyme. I won’t dumb down my writing for kids and I won’t do it for adults.

You wanna know why I have such a big vocabulary? Because when I hear or see a word that I don’t know I look it up and learn it. That simple! I know that people get embarrassed and feel stupid when they don’t know a word. However, not knowing the meaning of a word does not make you stupid, and if the person using that word treats you like you are if you ask them for a definition, then that’s on them. Quite frankly they’re probably treating you like that because they don’t really know the definition themselves, are using the word anyway, and you called them out on it, which they find embarrassing.

Admitting that you don’t know something does not make you stupid, nor should you be embarrassed by that. I refuse to dumb down my vocab or my writing so that others can feel like we’re on the same level. If you don’t understand what I’m saying, then we’re not on the same level. Just like I’m not on the same level as people using words or talking about concepts that I don’t know. NOT EVERYONE IS ON THE SAME LEVEL, AND JUST BECAUSE WE’RE NOT ON THE SAME LEVEL DOESN’T MEAN THAT I THINK YOU’RE STUPID!!! Become an active participant in your own education and maybe challenge yourself once in a while. I ask people to explain things all the time. I’m sure it gets really obnoxious because I don’t stop asking questions until I understand. Here’s the magical part, I never feel stupid when I’m asking these questions. I feel stupid when I go along pretending that I know something when in fact I don’t and then get caught.

Stupid is as stupid does, and I have definitely had my fair share of stupid moments. I will not apologize for my vocabulary or the things that I have taken the time to learn and I will not slow down so that you can keep up. I will answer questions til the cows come home and I will learn with you, but I will not slow down. I have often been called an elitist because of this attitude. Well, if that makes me an elitist then I guess I’m an elitist.

Stepping off soap box now.

soapbox

So this whole project started over a year ago when I found out that I was going to be an aunt for the first time and I decided that I wanted to write a children’s book for my new nephew.  If I had known then what I know now, I probably would have just knitted him a blanket and called it a day!  But alas, hindsight is 20/20 and I went with the book option.  Over a year later it is done!  Whoo-hoo!!!!  Well it’s in final review, and I’m counting my chickens a bit before they hatch, but at this point I figure I can handle anything they throw at me.  So the final of my ten top ten lists to usher in the new year:

Top Ten Snafus Encountered While on the Road to Publishing

Cover

1. Found an awesome illustrator . . . lost an awesome illustrator.

2. Found another awesome illustrator . . . can’t afford awesome illustrator.

3. Fine, I’ll illustrate it myself . . . poor choice, poor choice, POOR CHOICE!!!!

4. Found an amazing artist . . . who usually draws nudes . . . maybe put some clothes on em?

5. According to my research we can make the illustrations whatever size we want . . . several months later . . . remember when I said we can make them any size we want?  I was wrong.  We need to go in and change the size of all 32 illustrations.

6. What do you mean the scanner is only big enough to scan half the illustration at once?

7. What do you mean the scanner dulled out all of the bright colors?  I hate scanners!

8. “Wait, why does it say that?”

“That’s the text that you sent me.”

“Well that’s from two rewrites ago.”

” . . . wanna send me the current text?”

“Probably a good idea. Right on that!”

 

9. Wow, that file is way to big for the upload . . . tweak, tweak, tweak . . . that’s a little better . . . tweak, tweak, tweak . . . a little better . . . tweak, tweak, tweak . . . ah crap!  Now it’s too small!

 

10. “Okay, take one final pass and then we’re done.”

“Wait, where’s all the punctuation?”

“That’s how you sent it to me.”

“Really?”

“Yep.”

“Huh. Yeah, we’re gonna need to fix that.”

Years ago, when I first started to have the beginning glimmers of what is now my novel; I knew that I wanted to have a bad guy like Col. Tavington from “The Patriot.”  You know, he’s the one that orders that the church be burned with all of the inhabitants of the town inside.  He is nasty, ruthless and shows no remorse.  He’s a bad guy that you love to hate.  In fact when he dies at the end, you can’t help but cheer on Mel Gibson for exacting his revenge against this loathsome man.

Fast forward to present day, and I have just recently re-watched “The Patriot.”  Only this time, I wasn’t nearly as impressed by Col. Tavington.  Yes, I found him just as nasty. Yes I still think that he is well deserving of “bad guy” status. But I didn’t find him nearly as interesting as I had years ago, because he is very one-sided.  He does these horrible things out of ambition.  The only remorse or regret we see is when Cornwallis tells him that he probably won’t get rewarded because he methods are so inhumane.  As an audience we never get to see any other side of him.  Which means that after subsequent viewings the intrigue of this character wears off.  He is a quintessential bad guy who does bad things and we accept that he does them because he is obviously evil through and through.

Boo! Hiss!

Boo! Hiss!

Yawn!  Now I realize that this is a movie, so they don’t have time to delve into the complexities of his character.  However, I have come to expect more from my bad guys.  My character Captain Henry was originally based off of Tavington, but I am happy to say that even I have trouble seeing the resemblance now.  Captain Henry does some horrible things, but we get to see other facets of his character as well.  He shows remorse for some of the things that he does, and he shows absolutely no remorse for some of the other things that he does.  He’s complicated, and I love that about his character.

When I first started writing, if anybody had asked me to name the protagonist and antagonist I would have very easily said Kady and Captain Henry.  Now I’m not so sure.  Kady is definitely my protagonist, that one is easy.  But I don’t know about Captain Henry any more.  He does bad things, but does that make him a bad guy?  Does that make him the antagonist of the story when there are other characters vying for the position? I don’t know.  I feel like as the author I should know, but then part of me thinks that it doesn’t really matter.  It’s my job to tell the story.  Let someone else figure out the labels.

I do know one thing though.  Captain Henry is not black and white.  Hopefully none of my characters are, but him in particular – lots of grey!