The Observer Effect

[Amber Zade]

Really? Oh, Texas must be a country then cause it works in Oregon, although Jason is over the other way, somewhere. Weird I'd say

It's true ... Texas thinks it's its very own country....I don't roll that way but many Texans do.

It was just the error message I got.

 

[Robinne Weiss]

Thankfully, no one has yet devised a way to observe what is actually in our minds. We all have that secret person we are that absolutely no one, not even our best friend/spouse knows. I believe it is important to safeguard that person. And we all change our behaviour on observation--I think it's part of what it means to be a social animal. I don't cartwheel across the lawn or sing to my plants when there's any chance of being observed, but that doesn't mean it doesn't happen most days...we adapt our behaviour to the situation. A very important skill in life.

 

[Alistair Roberts]

Gets out invisible camera.....

 

[Robinne Weiss]

Ha! I did get caught once by the neighbour while I was singing sea shanties to my goats...with the words all changed to include the goats' names and silly commentary about them...very embarrassing!

 

[Amber Zade]

Thankfully, no one has yet devised a way to observe what is actually in our minds. We all have that secret person we are that absolutely no one, not even our best friend/spouse knows. I believe it is important to safeguard that person. And we all change our behaviour on observation--I think it's part of what it means to be a social animal. I don't cartwheel across the lawn or sing to my plants when there's any chance of being observed, but that doesn't mean it doesn't happen most days...we adapt our behaviour to the situation. A very important skill in life.

Is it always an important skill to writing?

 

[Robinne Weiss]

Is it always an important skill to writing?

I think it is. If we don't know our audience, how can we write something that will engage them? If I'm only writing for my own satisfaction, that's not a problem, but if I want to touch my readers in some way, I need to know who they are. I need to be aware of who is observing and what creates an emotional response in them.

 

[Amber Zade]

I think it is. If we don't know our audience, how can we write something that will engage them? If I'm only writing for my own satisfaction, that's not a problem, but if I want to touch my readers in some way, I need to know who they are. I need to be aware of who is observing and what creates an emotional response in them.

Interesting what assumptions are accepted without question.

 

[Sea-shore]

I think it is. If we don't know our audience, how can we write something that will engage them? If I'm only writing for my own satisfaction, that's not a problem, but if I want to touch my readers in some way, I need to know who they are. I need to be aware of who is observing and what creates an emotional response in them.

Wow. Wise words. Love it.

 

[Sea-shore]

Asphyxiating, you mean!

No! Having. Nice. Bunny. Dreams!!

(..if you don't mind. I write YA and am channelling my inner brat. )

 

[Amber Zade]

I think it is. If we don't know our audience, how can we write something that will engage them? If I'm only writing for my own satisfaction, that's not a problem, but if I want to touch my readers in some way, I need to know who they are. I need to be aware of who is observing and what creates an emotional response in them.

I know we're always told to know our audience. No one ever questions how ridiculous a concept it is to assume we can know our audience. We can only get to know our audience in the most superficial of ways, know their demographics and the proscribed limits of where we can go in a particular genre. Really the phrase shouldn't be 'know your audience' but 'know the demographics, know the statistics'. Know your audience sounds all friendly and all ..... know what people can handle .... well - you don't know til you try . For instance, I'm not happy at all with the patricide I witnessed in a movie recently but it was ballsy of them to do it and I can respect that - sort of.

In 'On Writing' Stephen King talks about how his wife is the person he writes for. I found this fascinating and I wondered if other writers had their own 'reader'. I asked at a few book signings and got the 'I write for my readers' answer. They were all very nice people. As a reader, to assume you know me and what I'll read, what I'll accept, is a little off to me.

We know what will engage people, it doesn't require that we know anyone but ourselves and what compels us to read on. You know what touches people. I really don't think we need to write in such a self conscious manner. The most authentic and engaging reader experience is created by writing done by an author who is engaged, compelled, and moved.

 

[Carol Rose]

I think "know your audience" is more of a catch-all term, meaning understand the kinds of things reader of your chosen genre expect to see/want to see in a book. Those might change over time, so it also encompasses keeping up with the reader expectations and trends within the genre. Then again, I've also heard people say to write the book you want to read, so that's what I try to do at the core of every story. I've been published in romance for five years now and I can say without any doubt that trying to second guess what readers want is next to impossible. When I've tried to do that and written accordingly, the stories have fallen flat on their faces. It's only when I listen to my muse and my characters that I end up with best sellers.

 

[Amber Zade]

I think "know your audience" is more of a catch-all term, meaning understand the kinds of things reader of your chosen genre expect to see/want to see in a book. Those might change over time, so it also encompasses keeping up with the reader expectations and trends within the genre. Then again, I've also heard people say to write the book you want to read, so that's what I try to do at the core of every story. I've been published in romance for five years now and I can say without any doubt that trying to second guess what readers want is next to impossible. When I've tried to do that and written accordingly, the stories have fallen flat on their faces. It's only when I listen to my muse and my characters that I end up with best sellers.

Yeah, I think it makes for self conscious writing to form a book which meets market expectations. I mean, can't things that are really off putting to people be changed later?

 

[Emurelda]

I think "know your audience" is more of a catch-all term, meaning understand the kinds of things reader of your chosen genre expect to see/want to see in a book. Those might change over time, so it also encompasses keeping up with the reader expectations and trends within the genre. Then again, I've also heard people say to write the book you want to read, so that's what I try to do at the core of every story. I've been published in romance for five years now and I can say without any doubt that trying to second guess what readers want is next to impossible. When I've tried to do that and written accordingly, the stories have fallen flat on their faces. It's only when I listen to my muse and my characters that I end up with best sellers.

OH MY! This is like a light just cast over me. I get it now!! This is enlightening even if it's obvious but spelled out for my brain to handle is perfect! *rushes off to find her muse*

 

[Alistair Roberts]

Carol is right. Trying to pick trends (in readers habits) is like trying to pick the winning horse in a race, you have next to know chance. Actually, a horse race would be easier. I absolutely agree, you have to go with what your "guts" and your muse tell you.

 

[Nicole Wilson]

Carol is right. Trying to pick trends (in readers habits) is like trying to pick the winning horse in a race, you have next to know chance. Actually, a horse race would be easier. I absolutely agree, you have to go with what your "guts" and your muse tell you.

Also, by the time you've picked a trend, done your research, written the book, edited it, found an agent, found an editor, gotten it edited further, found a publisher, done the cover design, and published it, the trend is already passed! Even for self-pub books, that's after you've picked a trend, done your research, written the book, edited it, found an editor, gotten it edited further, done the cover design, and published it. That's *at least* two years.

Carol's right. Write the book you'd want to read, because it's very unlikely that your tastes are so unique that you're the only one who would want to read it.

 

[Jason Byrne]

Simple answer: it's weird like that.

One thing I've learnt from studying quantum physics is if it sounds logical, it's probably not right.

Because existence is predicated upon observation — if a tree falls in the woods and no one's around to hear it, it both made noise and did not make noise, because it at once has both fallen and not fallen, until it is observed upon the ground, and its possibility curve collapses to zero and it remains in a fallen state.

Now, as you know this isn't true of such large accumulations of subatomic particles as trees, but in a quantum sense this is actually accurate.

I did however once see a car and the man driving it vanish from existence in front of me, as I pulled up to a stop light. 100% serious.

 

[Amber Zade]

Because existence is predicated upon observation — if a tree falls in the woods and no one's around to hear it, it both made noise and did not make noise, because it at once has both fallen and not fallen, until it is observed upon the ground, and its possibility curve collapses to zero and it remains in a fallen state.

Now, as you know this isn't true of such large accumulations of subatomic particles as trees, but in a quantum sense this is actually accurate.

I did however once see a car and the man driving it vanish from existence in front of me, as I pulled up to a stop light. 100% serious.

Okay. That's interesting.

Was the car a De Lorean?

 

[Carol Rose]

And was a white-haired man, or a teen boy with an 80's haircut driving it?

 

[Jason Byrne]

Okay. That's interesting.

Was the car a De Lorean?

And was a white-haired man, or a teen boy with an 80's haircut driving it?

Wait, what? Oh — no, it was a kind of metallic, cerulean-blue Honda, maybe a couple years old, with beige interiors, and kind of a puffy-faced post-dudebro in a button shirt driving. I remember it all perfectly, because I looked dead at him as he went by.

I should probably tell the story. I was helping a friend of mine named Jeff move out of his studio, so I called my aunt and uncle and asked to borrow their pickup truck. When I got there, they said "it's a stick — you know how to drive it?" and I was like "no..." so they real quick taught me to drive a manual transmission, and after maybe a half hour of lessons off I drove off by myself into the city to meet Jeff at the art studio.

So, I'm not having a lot of fun getting it to start at traffic lights, but I haven't stalled it yet. Neither am I going very fast, and cars keep zooming by me. One such car came up behind me, and passed me by on the right, going a bit faster than I was, and I looked over at him as he passed by, and was like "dudebro f*ck..." to myself. Again — late-thirties, button shirt maybe flannel-ish patterned, looked like he had been a frat douchebag ten years ago, now he was just a junior partner at the ad agency douchebag. He merged over to the left back into my lane in front of me, as I was starting to worry about down-shifting to stop for the red light, and he was stopped at the light already maybe 300 yards ahead of me.

I was looking straight the intersection — the red light, the cars, in a general way — but my mind was on shifting correctly. Still, I register that the blue car just vanished while I was thinking about the shifter and clutch. Poof. Gone. It didn't turn right onto the side street and drive away; it didn't blow through the light and zoom onto the freeway onramp to the right beyond the intersection. It just ceased to exist. I drove up to the red light, which now had no blue Honda in the way, first in line, and seriously freaking out. The weird thing is, by the time I got to the next light, about a quarter of a mile down, I had already completely forgot about the experience for trying to shift correctly.

It wasn't until I got to the studio, loaded up all the furniture, took it all to the new place, unloaded it, and was halfway through my drive back to my aunt and uncle's to drop off the truck and get back into my own Jeep with its wondrous automatic transmission that it suddenly struck me what I had seen like three hours earlier, and I was the "WAIT JUST A GODDAM MINUTE! Did I just see that car f***ing DISAPPEAR?!"

No one has ever believed the story when I've told them, or said "well if you weren't paying attention they just drove off and you didn't see it." But I was looking right at the car. I didn't blink. It just stopped existing in front of me. You see things all the time while you're paying attention to something else and still see it just fine.

 

[Emurelda]

That's the trouble when ones mind is elsewhere. I'm sure crime novelists will cross examine you shortly.

 

[Emurelda]

As a sci-fi enthusiast all I'm interested in is 'Did he look at you back on overtaking?' It's in the eyes always the eyes.....

 

[Jason Byrne]

No, he just cruised past me without looking over. It was all very surreal.

 

[Emurelda]

No, he just cruised past me without looking over. It was all very surreal.

But he made sure you looked at him...

 

[Jason Byrne]

But he made sure you looked at him...

Who knows. It's one of those things where you wish you could just know what actually happened — whether your saw wrong, or who knows what else.

 

[Robinne Weiss]

Of course, the critical question is Have you written it into a book yet?

 

[Sea-shore]

Wait, what? Oh — no, it was a kind of metallic, cerulean-blue Honda, maybe a couple years old, with beige interiors, and kind of a puffy-faced post-dudebro in a button shirt driving. I remember it all perfectly, because I looked dead at him as he went by.

I should probably tell the story. I was helping a friend of mine named Jeff move out of his studio, so I called my aunt and uncle and asked to borrow their pickup truck. When I got there, they said "it's a stick — you know how to drive it?" and I was like "no..." so they real quick taught me to drive a manual transmission, and after maybe a half hour of lessons off I drove off by myself into the city to meet Jeff at the art studio.

So, I'm not having a lot of fun getting it to start at traffic lights, but I haven't stalled it yet. Neither am I going very fast, and cars keep zooming by me. One such car came up behind me, and passed me by on the right, going a bit faster than I was, and I looked over at him as he passed by, and was like "dudebro f*ck..." to myself. Again — late-thirties, button shirt maybe flannel-ish patterned, looked like he had been a frat douchebag ten years ago, now he was just a junior partner at the ad agency douchebag. He merged over to the left back into my lane in front of me, as I was starting to worry about down-shifting to stop for the red light, and he was stopped at the light already maybe 300 yards ahead of me.

I was looking straight the intersection — the red light, the cars, in a general way — but my mind was on shifting correctly. Still, I register that the blue car just vanished while I was thinking about the shifter and clutch. Poof. Gone. It didn't turn right onto the side street and drive away; it didn't blow through the light and zoom onto the freeway onramp to the right beyond the intersection. It just ceased to exist. I drove up to the red light, which now had no blue Honda in the way, first in line, and seriously freaking out. The weird thing is, by the time I got to the next light, about a quarter of a mile down, I had already completely forgot about the experience for trying to shift correctly.

It wasn't until I got to the studio, loaded up all the furniture, took it all to the new place, unloaded it, and was halfway through my drive back to my aunt and uncle's to drop off the truck and get back into my own Jeep with its wondrous automatic transmission that it suddenly struck me what I had seen like three hours earlier, and I was the "WAIT JUST A GODDAM MINUTE! Did I just see that car f***ing DISAPPEAR?!"

No one has ever believed the story when I've told them, or said "well if you weren't paying attention they just drove off and you didn't see it." But I was looking right at the car. I didn't blink. It just stopped existing in front of me. You see things all the time while you're paying attention to something else and still see it just fine.

Oh gosh. You're gonna hate me. I'm gonna be the party-pooper to this amazing tale of wonder and mystery. I'm sorry for that. But.. the following is true: the same thing happened to me - not exact same thing, no cerulean-blue Honda, just a black Ford Focus, and no cool backstory about stick gears and helping friends called Jeff move out of his studio.

I was driving home at night from my parents, kids sleeping in the back. I live in London. It's surprisingly quiet and calm on the roads. A black Ford Focus overtakes me and I think "whoa, black car at night, lucky I'm paying attention, kind of". The driver stops at the crossroads (what you call intersection) infront of me and I stare at his red rear lights. Then he's gone *puff* and I'm the only one at the empty crossroads. I roll my car forward to where his car was a few seconds ago, just to make sure he's not invisible.

"Wha..? How did that happen?!" I ask excitedly to my sleeping children. They don't even stir. "That was so weird!" I continue to no-one in particular. "What a strange thing to happen! I gotta tell someone about this!" Then I promptly forget until now. You reminded me. Thanks.

 

[Carol Rose]

Well now I'm jealous. I've never seen anything disappear. But I have seen ghosts. Does that count?

 

[Sea-shore]

Well now I'm jealous. I've never seen anything disappear. But I have seen ghosts. Does that count?

Sure! Let's hear it. *sits down, crossed legged, on the carpet for a good ghost story*

 

[Emurelda]

Oh gosh. You're gonna hate me. I'm gonna be the party-pooper to this amazing tale of wonder and mystery. I'm sorry for that. But.. the following is true: the same thing happened to me - not exact same thing, no cerulean-blue Honda, just a black Ford Focus, and no cool backstory about stick gears and helping friends called Jeff move out of his studio.

I was driving home at night from my parents, kids sleeping in the back. I live in London. It's surprisingly quiet and calm on the roads. A black Ford Focus overtakes me and I think "whoa, black car at night, lucky I'm paying attention, kind of". The driver stops at the crossroads (what you call intersection) infront of me and I stare at his red rear lights. Then he's gone *puff* and I'm the only one at the empty crossroads. I roll my car forward to where his car was a few seconds ago, just to make sure he's not invisible.
"Wha..? How did that happen?!" I ask excitedly to my sleeping children. They don't even stir. "That was so weird!" I continue to no-one in particular. "What a strange thing to happen! I gotta tell someone about this!" Then I promptly forget until now. You reminded me. Thanks.

Lol! The thing is I can actually imagine you looking perplexed. For those who don't know - I've known sea-shore since we were 11 years old so this account of hers is none too surprising to me.

 

[Amber Zade]

Wait, what? Oh — no, it was a kind of metallic, cerulean-blue Honda, maybe a couple years old, with beige interiors, and kind of a puffy-faced post-dudebro in a button shirt driving. I remember it all perfectly, because I looked dead at him as he went by.

I should probably tell the story. I was helping a friend of mine named Jeff move out of his studio, so I called my aunt and uncle and asked to borrow their pickup truck. When I got there, they said "it's a stick — you know how to drive it?" and I was like "no..." so they real quick taught me to drive a manual transmission, and after maybe a half hour of lessons off I drove off by myself into the city to meet Jeff at the art studio.

So, I'm not having a lot of fun getting it to start at traffic lights, but I haven't stalled it yet. Neither am I going very fast, and cars keep zooming by me. One such car came up behind me, and passed me by on the right, going a bit faster than I was, and I looked over at him as he passed by, and was like "dudebro f*ck..." to myself. Again — late-thirties, button shirt maybe flannel-ish patterned, looked like he had been a frat douchebag ten years ago, now he was just a junior partner at the ad agency douchebag. He merged over to the left back into my lane in front of me, as I was starting to worry about down-shifting to stop for the red light, and he was stopped at the light already maybe 300 yards ahead of me.

I was looking straight the intersection — the red light, the cars, in a general way — but my mind was on shifting correctly. Still, I register that the blue car just vanished while I was thinking about the shifter and clutch. Poof. Gone. It didn't turn right onto the side street and drive away; it didn't blow through the light and zoom onto the freeway onramp to the right beyond the intersection. It just ceased to exist. I drove up to the red light, which now had no blue Honda in the way, first in line, and seriously freaking out. The weird thing is, by the time I got to the next light, about a quarter of a mile down, I had already completely forgot about the experience for trying to shift correctly.

It wasn't until I got to the studio, loaded up all the furniture, took it all to the new place, unloaded it, and was halfway through my drive back to my aunt and uncle's to drop off the truck and get back into my own Jeep with its wondrous automatic transmission that it suddenly struck me what I had seen like three hours earlier, and I was the "WAIT JUST A GODDAM MINUTE! Did I just see that car f***ing DISAPPEAR?!"

No one has ever believed the story when I've told them, or said "well if you weren't paying attention they just drove off and you didn't see it." But I was looking right at the car. I didn't blink. It just stopped existing in front of me. You see things all the time while you're paying attention to something else and still see it just fine.

I'll believe you. I'm doing nothing else right now and its an entertaining story.