Brain Cravings

I'm thinking a lot about why people become interested in things, not just novels but also food, music, and games. Children who have autism tend to be come rigid in their interests, playing the same game or eating the same foods over and over again. As a teacher's assistant working with such children, I often struggle to get one kid to name the letters instead of lining them up by color, or to get another to recognize whole words instead of just repeating the names of letters. Hopefully these kids will someday enjoy reading whole stories.

And then I go home and write fiction for adults. I'm facing the same sort of problem. Some readers insist on the same story and type of story told repeatedly. I work at enticing readers into something new.

Here is what I think is happening. Brains are prediction machines, having evolved over time to analyze patterns and predict what will happen next. They are driven to find out what happens next. Brains which are good at predicting pass on the ability, producing babies with similar brains.

This prediction isn't conscious analysis, but an instinctive drive. Our brains crave patterns and prediction of patterns the same way we crave food, or sleep, or affection. If these patterns aren't available, we create them. Brains with neurological problems blocking their development go after whatever patterns are accessible. The results are often amazing. People missing huge parts of their brains can still adapt and function well. I stand in awe of the brain, particularly the brain of a child, and what it can do.

I believe that a baby playing with a rattle and an adult reading a novel are both engaged in pattern prediction and for the same reasons; brains crave a combination of expectation and surprise.

The baby shaking the rattle doesn't know exactly what will happen, but she has an idea of what will happen and the result delights her. As she goes through the sequence of muscle movement, visual effect, and sound, her brain adapts, rewiring itself to better-coordinated hearing, movement, and vision. It's fun and feels good because it's what the brain needs. When the child gets older, she loses interest in rattles or her interest in them changes. She might move on to exploring rhythm. At this time, her brain has already made the changes and no longer craves the simple pattern of rattle-shaking.

Young brains crave easily predicted patterns. Children are usually picky eaters, liking foods with simple textures and flavors. A baby may like basic rice-cereal but, as a toddler, moves on to various dry cereals or to plain pasta. Children are generally interested in basic flavors--sweet or salty--and like predictable shapes and textures. Good luck trying to convince a toddler that a broken cheese-flavored cracker tastes the same as a whole cheese-flavored cracker.
Children generally dislike complex textures such the texture of broccoli. The buds on broccoli make for texture which is difficult for a developing brain to decode. The texture doesn't make sense.

As a child I preferred my spaghetti sauce to be served separately from my noodles, "next to" not "on top of." The meat as it browned smelled delicious, but when the ingredients were put together, I couldn't taste either the meat or the noodles. Hash still tastes this way to me. I also pulled appart sandwiches, eating baloney separate from bread. I'd lick the frosting off cupcakes before eating the cake. These preparations simplify the flavors of food. Now we call this type of preparation food "deconstruction." Apparently it's the hot new trend in cooking, but children have done it since time immemorial.

As an adult I detest plain noodles. They're just too boring. I don't eat cake unless it's got something unusual-- fresh fruit, mocha filling--or I'm hungry and it's the only food available. I want something interesting on top of my noodles maybe some anchovies or some capers. Definitely some garlic. Maybe fresh garlic sautéed in olive oil until it just starts to caramelize. My brain already knows the taste of noodles. There is nothing else to be learned from eating bland pasta. It wants combinations of flavors and textures: bitter and sweet with smooth. Salty and sour with crunchy.

For the brain to make sense of sensations--hmm similar words--it has to encounter the same pattern repeatedly. The brain will seek to repeat the pattern until the activity becomes boring. How often it needs to encounter a pattern varies from individual to individual. A person who has autism needs to encounter the same pattern many more times than does a person with a typical brain. But whose brain is typical anyway?

I only read one Nancy Drew mystery before I became bored with it. Yet I'm still fascinated by Rudyard Kipling's Elephant's Child. The line "The great gray-green greasy Limpopo River all set about with fever-trees," still tastes good to my brain.
In writing novels I'm attempting to feed the brain a really tasty pattern. I've got to get the mix between expectation and surprise just right. If it's too unusual the story tastes like hash. If it's too predictable it's boring. The same mix won't work for every reader because of variation in individual brains.

Enjoyment of food and of novels isn't entirely alike. Food must feed both the body and the brain. If nothing else is available I'll eat plain noodles, eat them without complaining. But if a novel fails to fulfill the cravings of my brain, I will stop reading.

As a writer, I have a dilemma. Should I limit my writing to simple easily understandable patterns, the equivalent of plain noodles, or should I write patterns which take more sophistication to understand? The blockbuster model of publishing says write plain noodles, make the story understandable to nearly everyone. But that leaves an entire range of readers starving. Simplistic writing isn't adequate to their needs. It's not adequate for my needs as a writer.

I believe if I trying to write plain noodles I should do it with pride, but when I'm driven to write pasta with puttanesca sauce I shouldn't forego the anchovies and capers.

There are those who insist that fiction must follow similar restrictive and arbitrary rules, similar to saying spaghetti can only have marinara sauce. These rules are basically codified personal taste, similar to an autistic toddler announcing that broccoli is yucky and throwing it across the room. Many adults also dislike broccoli, but it's not the fault of the farmer who raised the broccoli, the cook who prepared it, or even of Mother Nature who packed it with vitamins, nutrition, fiber, color, and all that. Broccoli isn't inherently yucky. It's a matter of personal taste, meaning it’s a matter if neurological development.

What can I say to them when they gag on my offering? Yes, people do gag when they expect one flavor and get another. This doesn't indicate that, for example, puttanesca sauce is poorly made. It merely has been tasted by a diner has never encountered red spaghetti sauce other than marinara, and that diner's brain isn't yet ready for that pattern of sensation.

Victorian Steel Costume

Here it is except for some finishing details, like adding the steel cups. The crinoline is one that my sister bought for her wedding and I used for mine. The brow skirt acting as a petticoat belonged to my other sisters. Or maybe it still does if she wants it back. The skirt is a silk shawl that my roommate Rebecca bought and then put in the drier so now it has antique looking puckers and wrinkles. It's wrapped around like a sari. The boots are from Fred Meyers. The hair piece is Native Alaska Bead work in an interior style. But I think I will make a different barrette.
The cat once again helps out

Steam Punk Overskirt

I cut off three 2" strips to use as straps then used the remainder of the burgundy fabric for the overskirt. I cut it in half, pressed down cord channels and bottom hem, then sewed the side seems.
This is the side cord channels being pressed.



I threaded silver colored cord in the side channels and white rayon grossgrain ribbon in the top channels. This is a corner where the channels meet.

This is the skirt laid on the floor. It's two rectangles sewn together. I find it amazing that something this shape ends up looking like a draped overskirt.


And the cat getting involved.

The skirt gets hooked to the corset by a wire goodie with a hook and a place for a strap. It probably would work fine attaching only by the strap, but it's hard to tell before things are made. I made the hook goodies from galvanized utility wire and a bit of silver wire and sewed them on with pearl cotton embroidery floss. The straps are 1" wide and have buckles bought from Black Elk Leather.



I wanted the overskirt smooth in the front and back with the gathers at the side. This is the top channel of the skirt with the gather ribbon pinned where I well sew it to keep the front flat.


The bustle installed on the overskirt. The crinoline was made with panniers made of net, the wrong look for the late 1800s. I removed the panniers and reattached them as a bustle.

Chemise

I won't be able to wash this corset, so I need a chemise This one is a practical and not particularly historically accurate undergarment. It's a tube. I bought a yard of cotton lycra blend(5% lycra) from Jo-Annes. The fabric is folded in half with modern chemise on top as the pattern. I drew the shape with quilter's pencil and cut. The fabric and shape may not be Victorian but the intent remains the same, keep the outer clothing clean.

Pinned.

Sewn together.


Finished with straps added. The hardest part of this was getting the straps in the right location so they don't show under the corset.


No, I'm not going to photograph this with me in it.

Steam Punk Corset Bodice

Shell fabric is burgundy colored linen/cotton jacquard bought at Jo-Annes. Lining is white cotton denim. I decided I needed a heavy lining to support all that steel hardware. I think I bought 3, or maybe 3 1/2, yards of the burgundy fabric. I would have bought more but it was all that was left on the bolt. I pinned the pattern to the fabric (folded in half) and then traced the pattern with chalk on the burgundy fabric and pencil on the white fabric. The chalk helped with accuracy of sewing. Latter I switched to a quilters pencil which works better, sharper line and less of a mess. The pattern still has tape on it from checking fit relationships. The two semi-circular shapes are the bust cups.
The front burgundy parts sewn to the lining. I did the cups with the burgundy outer parts sewn down last by hand. If I were to do this again I'd wait on stitching down the cups until after straps are installed and the bottom edge closed. In the background is the back part of the bodice with the back seam stitched.
Next came the difficulty of fitting. I got enough done to try it on then had to take apart the bodice to reduce the size. Taking it on and off was done mostly with pins. I'd planned it to fit without the space for lacing and so had to remove about 1/2 " from each seam, except for the front opening.

Here is the fitting process. It's pinned in front instead of closed with the busk. The openings all have plackets behind.
The bodice is all puckered because it doesn’t yet have the boning. This shows what boning actually does. Corsets were more for a smooth fit than for making the waist smaller.

The sides have aluminum Dritz eyelets put in with a set of Dritz snap and eyelet pliers. I'm not all that pleased with them. The eyelets either don’t clamp all the way or get crushed and snag on the lacing string. I smoothed them out with a small file. I found it works best to put the eyelets in messy so that lots of frayed fabric gets entangled in the crushed aluminum.
The boning is steel and purchased from Seams Like Home, which is also the source of the ribbon and silver colored cording.
I made a mistake on the length. On one side of the front opening the bodice wasn't long enough for the busk. I solved this by adding the 2" binding on the top and bottom. This also creates the pockets for the ends of the boning. I laid out the boning then drew the location with quilters pencil and top stitched going across the binding to make the boning pockets. Next I cut the boning to length and crimped the metal ends on. I found crimping the end caps works best with two sets of pliers, a set of lineman's pliers to squeeze from the side and old the cap and a set of flat jewelers pliers to squeeze from top and bottom.
The boning hand stitched with pearl cotton in a zigzag pattern. I was going to do cross stitch but zigzag looks fine and is simpler.
In this photo the straps are still pinned on the back, and the busk is only tacked in place. Pins can't be used with metal mesh since it doesn't bend enough.



Here it is on me. Notice goofy expression on face. I tend to do that when doing self timed photographs.

Steam Punk Corset Busk

Making the busk started with a search for metal mesh. First I went to Home Depot but they only had large mesh hardware cloth that came in pieces 3 feet by 12 or something like that. Headed next to Lowe's. It took a bit of explaining about how I was looking for metal mesh, preferably steel. A Lowes sales clerk with tattoos and piercings helped me out. We found galvanized Kwikmesh in rolls in 6" by 25' rolls. I only need two little pieces but bought the whole roll. Then the fellow asked me what I was making. Turns out he also writes science fiction and we discussed the relationship between steam punk and goth. Pretty funny I don't look like the sort of person who would know about goth.
With the mesh home, I traced the cardboard busk onto the mesh and cut it out with tin snips leaving 1/4" 'seam allowance.'
Here I have half the busk clamped ready to bend the edge under. Actually I had to use larger clamps. These two kept slipping.

Here are the two halves of the busk with the edges turned under.

I've bent 16 gauge galvanized utility wire into the hooks. On the right is my layout drawing. Sorry I didn’t take pictures while bending. It become awkward to put down pliers and take off gloves to operate a camera.

Attaching hooks to busk with what I think is silver wire. I bought the wire at Black Elk Leather. It's for jewelry, and the wire has tarnish on it that looks like silver tarnish. On the right is my gloves. I started off not using them and got a blister on my hand.


I coiled then ends of the silver wire and attached the ends down with brass wire and coiled those ends in turn. Sorry didn't take pictures during this process. Too hard to put down gloves and pliers. Here is a detail of the finished busk.

Romance Through Technology

There is now a movement afoot to combine Science Fiction with Romance, which I think is great fun. This type of story is being called SFR and there's a new blog up called SFR Brigade bringing together readers and writers interested in the combination. I enjoy stories that bring together love and technology, so I fit right in. I've posted the following on the SFR Brigade blog but I'm putting it here too.

I came to RSF from science fiction, or more accurately I came to romance through technology, both in my art and in my real life.

I started off studying art and moved my focus to sculpture. A sculpture lab is a great place to see what can be done with tools and materials. For about five years I melted, burned, and blew up materials. I love the gritty honesty of working with real tools and real materials. I love how bronze glows vermillion orange in a crucible, the feeling of power in cold bending steel, and the technical challenge of turning an idea into concrete reality, sometimes using Portland cement.
In the midst of this exploration I fell in love with an engineer. He was a brilliant and creative man, one who could design and make almost anything with limited tools and materials. It was a romance of technology. Early in our courtship, we had construction dates. I'd go to his place and we built his garage, that later became ours when we married. We did gardening and red worm composting. For a birthday present he gave me a drill press.

He was also dying of a rare neurological disorder that ate away at his brainstem leaving him struggling with physical coordination. I came to identify with the B&B ships in McCaffrey's Ship Who Sang. I was the brawn and he was the brain. I craved stories about machinery melded with the human body.

My husband, medical retired, threw himself into volunteer work. He became coordinator of a statewide volunteer effort to put computer networks in schools, and I became his assistant. We put computer networks into every school in the State of Alaska. Ironically he did this while the neurological network of his brainstem was failing. I became a certified network installer and attended seminars on such things as fiber optics. Oddly, I was often the only woman at these seminars.

I began to see that society considers some technology and materials to belong to men and other technology and materials to belong to women. Steel, concrete, electrical wiring, drills, and soldiering irons are male. Fabric, textiles, sewing machines, and laundry irons are female. Women often don’t think of women's tools as technology even though the girls' stuff is often more complex and technical that the boys' stuff. Just bring up the subject of quilts and see how technical women can get in their discussion. And actually, installing a computer network isn't any more complex than crocheting, depending on the project.

In my art, I began combining male and female materials and techniques. I made clothing such as bras and hoopskirts out of male materials: steel, rubber, concrete. Most of these were not wearable. Then I moved from sculpture to writing, but I'm doing the same thing, by combining romance with science fiction. I'm taking the girl stuff and putting it together with the boy stuff. This is hot. I love technology, but even more than that I love techy men. I love how they think and how they solve problems.

My husband died of his disease, but I now write about romance heroes who are tech nerds like him. To write these characters I've got to get the technology right. Boys love their tools in a particularly male way. In showing male characters it helps to understand this love and to share in their fascination with things that go boom. Go borrow their stuff. I want to tell you girls, that you can go into the garage and use boy's tools, or buy your own. And for you boys in this group, you can use tools from the sewing room. Be sure talk to your sweetie when you do it. He or she will want you to treat the tools with care and will have good information on how to use the stuff. As a reader or a writer, don't be intimidated by either male or female technology, you are as smart and technically savvy as member of the opposite sex. And they are willing to share.