State Fair

Nearly every September, my husband and I go to the Western Washington State Fair. It's the largest state fair west of the Mississippi, I believe. Everybody around here calls it the Puyallup Fair because that's where it's held. People from out of state wouldn't call it that primarily because they have no idea how to pronounce Puyallup. Anyway, the fair boasts the usual attractions: exhibits of 4H animals, produce, flowers, hobby crafts; the midway, where you can pay to play for tacky prizes; overpriced rides and overpriced food; vendors selling everything from blenders to hot tubs; and the grandstand shows featuring rodeo and a parade of "B" list entertainers.

It's pretty much the same every year, and yet every year (as long as the weather's decent) the place is packed. Traffic in the area is hopelessly snarled, parking costs a fortune, the crowds are daunting, and all the walking is murder on the feet (especially if you've chosen the wrong shoes to wear). So why do we keep going back? Maybe it's because it is the same - the same as when we first experienced it as children. I remember I always got to take a friend with me. When we arrived, my parents would designate a rendezvous time and place, give us each some money (maybe $10?), and turn us loose to spend it however we wanted (rides, games, fair food, etc.).

I never played the midway games; I considered them a waste of money (although secretly I hoped some dreamy boy would win a teddy bear for me). I always bought cotton candy and a caramel apple (my teeth hurt just to think of it now). The rest of my cash went for rides, my favorites being the scrambler and the giant swings. Finally one year I got up the courage to try the big roller coaster (actually pretty modestly sized, but it seemed mammoth to me as a kid). Not only did it mean overcoming my fear but conquering my natural frugality (a ticket was an exorbitant $2.50, I think). What a thrill! It was worth the long line and the price, and I've been hooked on roller coasters ever since.

I could ramble on and on ... but I won't. I'll spare you a longer stroll down my memory lane. It's funny. When I started writing this post, I planned to take it in a different direction. Instead, it sort of took me. I guess I didn't realize what nostalgic feelings lay just below the surface.

To Judge or Not to Judge?

I eagerly soak up advice about writing from every source I can find: books, writers' workshops, author blogs, online magazines, critique groups, etc. The information gleaned from these has benefited me and my work tremendously - teaching me some of the finer points of the craft, developing my editor's ear, demystifying the business end of the publishing world, and encouraging me through the experiences of others. However, one piece of instruction that has kept me pondering is this: "It is not the writer's job to judge; it is the writer's job to reveal." An interesting statement, but I'm not sure I entirely understand or agree with it.

I can appreciate the need to avoid flagrant sermonizing. After all, the reader bought your book primarily for entertainment; no need to hit them over the head with "...and the moral of the story is..." On the other hand, it is impossible to write a novel (or live life) in a moral vacuum, however diligently someone may try. What the author believes to be right and wrong will inevitably color the story s/he chooses to tell and the words s/he uses to tell it, at least minimally. Not only is this unavoidable, I think it's desirable. Have you ever read a book or seen a movie where all moral judgement is scrupulously shunned? I'm left feeling cheated. I wonder, what was the point? Nothing was achieved. Nothing was learned. Nothing of value was experienced.

Engaging stories (even comedies) draw us into the struggle of life-like characters against some kind of foe (a person, a monster, an army, circumstance, the elements, or something within himself). It may be an oversimplification to say it's always a battle of good versus evil, but, when boiled down to the essence, that's almost always the case. How those waring elements are portrayed is at the discretion (the judgement) of the author. You may not always agree with how s/he defines right and wrong. Yet, if the author has done his/her job properly, you will always have a reaction - you will always feel something genuine and worthwhile in response. In the end, you are satisfied knowing you have invested your time, money, and emotions well.