#// that the stakes of doing something is so high like it's gambling itself that I'm not too sure I'm satisfied with my time here

[m0e-ru]

losing the idgaf war

[whimsicaldragonette]

Arc & Audio ARC Review: Aces Wild: A Heist by Amanda DeWitt

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Publication Date: September 13, 2022

Synopsis:

What happens in Vegas when an all-asexual online friend group attempts to break into a high-stakes gambling club? Shenanigans ensue. Some people join chess club, some people play football. Jack Shannon runs a secret blackjack ring in his private school’s basement. What else is the son of a Las Vegas casino mogul supposed to do? Everything starts falling apart when Jack’s mom is arrested for their family’s ties to organized crime. His sister Beth thinks this is the Shannon family’s chance to finally go straight, but Jack knows that something’s not right. His mom was sold out, and he knows by who. Peter Carlevaro: rival casino owner and jilted lover. Gross. Jack hatches a plan to find out what Carlevaro’s holding over his mom’s head, but he can’t do it alone. He recruits his closest friends—the asexual support group he met through fandom forums. Now all he has to do is infiltrate a high-stakes gambling club and dodge dark family secrets, while hopelessly navigating what it means to be in love while asexual. Easy, right?

My Rating: ★★★★★

*My Review below the cut.

My Review:

This was so much fun! I was drawn into the story immediately and immediately sympathetic to the main character. He was sarcastic, self-deprecating, funny, and a very believable teenager -- some of my favorite things in a protagonist. He made a lot of very realistic, very bad decisions, especially early on when he felt like he was alone and his world was falling apart. Sometimes he even knew they were bad decisions and he still made them. He was a very realistic teenager, in other words. I LOVE that the entire crew he pulls together for his heist are ace. It's such a fun detail, and so relatable - not having friends in your immediate surroundings but connecting with people all over the country on fanfiction forums and then forming a chat support group for ace people? Definitely felt familiar, which drew me in even more. I almost felt like I was a member of the group and in on their shenanigans. The heist itself sometimes took a backseat to the family and friend group drama, but I'm ok with that. There was still plenty of heist action there, but I was there for the character interactions anyway as I generally prefer character driven to plot driven stories. I love love loved the characters. They were all such individuals, with unique characteristics and mannerisms that didn't feel forced at all. They felt like real people you might find anywhere. Well, they felt like real teenagers that you might meet at the outskirts of the school social scene, which is where I've always been the most comfortable. In short - I wanted to be their friend too. They were very obviously my people. I like how the 'being ace' aspect was handled, as well as the tentative love story. It was sweet and realistic and believable... and familiar. Aside from the whole heist thing, it could have been me and my friends in high school and college. That sense of familiarity, of belonging, made me love this book 1000x more than I would have based solely on the plot. Obviously not everyone is going to feel this sentimental about the book and characters, but I think a lot of people will really see themselves here and feel seen. Las Vegas was an excellent choice of setting because the glitter and glamour made an excellent contrast to the seriousness of the beginning and then an excellent background and distraction during the plotting and executing of the heist itself. I've never been to Las Vegas, but after reading this I feel like I was there. The descriptions didn't ever try to take over the story like in some books, but I still felt like everything was very grounded in a specific place and could even almost see it playing out in my head. in fact I did see it that way - I have very specific visual memories of events in the book. It was like watching a movie. Ocean's 11, but with teenagers. The audiobook was narrated flawlessly and I love the narrator and the choices he made for the different voices and the way he told the story. Just perfect all around. I bumped the speed up to 2x because he spoke a little slowly for my taste - many people do - and it was still perfectly clear and easy to understand and all the emotion came through easily. *Thanks to NetGalley, Peachtree Teen, and Recorded Books for providing an e-arc and audio arc for review.

[thecomfywriter]

Hello, I wanted to ask two things that I'm confused for some time.

Firstly How do you really show your character's emotion, and inner conflict amidst the external conflict and plot, and how should it affect the other characters?

And secondly I wanted to ask about High Stakes. Surely I have added high stakes in my wip, but when I look it as a reader it didn't bring out emotions in me, if you know what I mean.

So how to add High Stakes that really get the reader hoping for better.

Hey @izoraofthenight! Thanks for the ask! 

When it comes to portraying a character’s emotion, I like to keep one thing in mind— consequences. A lot of writing can be boiled down to cause and consequence. Think of a personal experience in which you have had an emotional reaction. What was the reason? Why did it fester to the point of such extremity? What did that emotion look like to a third person? By asking these questions you are highlighting: a) the cause/origin of the character’s emotion, in your case, an external conflict; b) the outcome of that emotional reaction; c) the perspective/affect it has on other characters. How it affects the characters itself depends on the type of emotion and outcome the character has portrayed. If their emotions are fear and they act in a way of self-preservation, another character might also begin to feel terrified by the reaction and sheer horror depicted by your character alone. However, if the second character were the origin of your character’s fear, they might instead feel satisfaction, or confusion, or disdain for the reaction. Determining how your character’s emotions impact others depends on the personality of your oc’s, the dynamic between the characters, and how that reaction progresses the story.

I’ll give you an example.

Character A has just realized their partner of four years has been cheating on them with their best friend, who is now pregnant with their child. The emotion A might feel in this moment is shock, betrayal, grief, anger, disgust, loneliness, confusion, and abandonment. These were two incredibly significant people in their life whom they had complete trust in, and that trust was violated and broken. A feels beyond terrible. They are unable to process their emotions because of the rapid fire in which they are experiencing them.  A’s inner conflict may be trying to navigate the betrayal. An inner monologue, or perhaps a scene in which they are just sitting in their bed, slumped over in defeat, struggling to take deep breaths because, who do they call in this situation? Who do they vent to? Who do they have to help them feel better? They might pace around their room in attempt to ease the restlessness that is overcoming them. Feel anxiety clawing at their chest because How could this be happening? They might be too hurt to cry and confused why they can’t ball their eyes out like they want to. Or a heaviness in their chest. All of these portray the inner conflict of your character by depicting the external outcome of that internal struggle.  Because of this, A is now distancing themselves from both their partner and their best friend. They begin ghosting them, leaving them confused and agitated because they don’t know if A has found out about them. Maybe they try pampering them, love-bombing and showering A in gifts and compliments. Their coldness is setting them in unease. Why isn't A at least responding, or confronting, or something other than silence? This is how A’s internal struggle and its outcome is now affecting other characters. The decisions these characters choose to make depend on their personality and unique reactions. 

Now, about high stakes. I am actually writing a post on a topic that relates really well with this right now— a post about tension. The reason why you may feel that, as a reader, your stakes don’t feel high enough isn’t because you aren’t gambling a lot in your narrative. It is because the tension and weight of that gamble hasn’t been fully developed or explored. If you want your readers to feel the designated effect of your writing, you have to build up the tension and invest them into the narrative so they themselves understand the impact and domino effect of the risk your characters are taking. 

In order to build that tension, you must create an immersive scene in which readers can step into the character’s perspective and fully interact with the story being told. It should not feel like they are being told that they should worry. The scene itself should be crafted in such a way that worrisome elements set your reader on edge and build anxiety within them. THAT is how you up the stakes. Not by giving your character’s impossible situations, but by personalizing them and adding emotion and tension so the reader feels the impact of their choices and truly feels as though the consequences are threatening. 

I’ll give you an example of how high stakes are built through tension. 

I hurried into the story, short steps tripping over one another as the double doors pulled back for me to enter. Two burly guards stood by the entrance, donning a stern expression that governed the entire pharmacy. I shifted my eyes away from them when the taller of the two cast his gaze towards me.  I’m not doing anything wrong. I reassured myself, though the cold sweat on my back reeked otherwise.  The aisles were neverending, adding to the numbing urgency I was already drowning under. My poor baby was all alone at home. What if he began vomiting again? Would he be able to turn himself on his side? What if he choked? Focus, Raven. Find the medication.  When I finally reached the aisle for pharmaceutical drugs, I scanned nook and corner for the drug the doctor had advised, trying to identify the long name against the brands I did not recognize. While my eyes scanned between the written slip and the bottles, I tried to avoid thinking about the bill for the doctor’s visit.  How much is this all going to cost?  I shook my head. It didn’t matter the cost. I’d work overtime if it meant my little boy’s fever would go away. I didn’t understand half the words the doctor had explained to me, but I knew if I didn’t bring home a bottle of medicine, things could seriously progress.  ‘We do not want to neglect it before it progresses, Ms. Anderson. An infection like this can fester severely without immediate medical care. I strongly suggest taking him to the hospital.’ He had only given me the drug name as an alternative when I told him of my three jobs and stamps. And not a single source of insurance.  I heaved a breath of relief when I finally spotted the antibiotic. My blood went cold when I saw the price.  No, that can’t be right. I peered into the emptiness of my purse, drained away from the doctor’s visit. Why is it so expensive? My chin began to tremble at the thought of leaving without the medicine. What would happen to my baby? I couldn’t afford the hospital. I couldn’t afford the medicine. But I couldn't afford to lose him either.  Hot tears lined my waterline when the thought occurred to me— I didn’t need to afford the medicine.  My gaze flickered towards the stoic guards, still standing at the entrance to intimidate every new customer that passed by. They weren’t looking my way. It would be as easy as slipping it under my chemise. It wasn’t like I was without experience.  A flash of memory reminded me of the last time I stole. My officer and lawyer in the room, their voices filling my head with threats. ‘There will be no second chances, you understand this Ms. Anderson?’ I told them I did.  The bottle was cold against the tremble of my fingers as I considered the risk. If I got away with it, my baby could get better. All the drugs he didn’t use, I could even sell for some extra cash for the bills. But if I didn’t…?  Prison. Foster care. His fever would get worse. Would they care? Better question—would they care as much as I did?  No. No one could. With a sigh of resolution, I scouted for the officers once more, noticing the way their attention kept lingering back to me. Feigned browsing had me wandering the aisle, bottle still in hand, searching the shelves aimlessly while I waited for their focus to wither. When it finally did, I relaxed my posture and slipped the bottle up my sleeve. 

Anyways, I’ll have a full post on writing tension hopefully by the end of this week. Until then, I hope this helps! Let me know how the story goes :) 

Cheerios, and Happy Writing!

[xtruss]

Goodbye Ted Dexter, Free Spirit, Cricket Thinker, Renaissance Man

The England and Sussex captain had aura, flair, majestic batting, and impossible glamour - and that was just on the field

— Mark Nicholas | 27 August, 2021

Ted Dexter batting in a ring of close-in fielders in Sydney, January 1963 Getty Images

I don't know when the Ted Dexter affectation started but I can guess. The last thing my father did with me before he died so young was to take me to see the 1968 Gillette Cup final at Lord's. This was during Ted's short comeback and when the great man strode to the wicket, I leapt about in excitement, cheering his name for all I was worth. He didn't get many but no matter, I had seen him live. That evening Dad bowled to me in the garden as I imitated every Dexter mannerism and stroke I had seen just a few hours before.

"There is about Dexter, when he chooses to face fast bowling with determination, a sort of air of command that lifts him above ordinary players. He seems to find time to play the fastest bowling and still retain dignity, something near majesty, as he does it." — John Arlott

I fell for the aura, and for the flair in those back-foot assaults on fast bowlers. Not for a minute do I think I saw the 70 in 75 balls against Wes Hall and Charlie Griffith at Lord's in 1963 but I feel as if I did - the power, the poise, the sheer gall of it. Nothing, not even the Beatles, could drag me from the television screen when he walked to the wicket, seemingly changing the picture from black-and-white to glorious technicolor as he took guard. Frankly, much of the Test cricket of the time was pretty dull but there was a frisson, an expectation, with Ted, just as there is when Ben Stokes is on his way today. It was all too brief, he had retired for good before I started proper school.

The West Indians of the day - Conrad Hunte, Garry Sobers, Wes Hall - thought that innings the best played against them by anybody, though Dexter himself would modestly say it was just one of those days where everything came together and the bat swung freely in just about the right arc. He was well miffed to be given out lbw, however, insisting later that the DRS would have saved him. Who knows how many careers might have been changed by the sliding doors of the DRS.

The word majesty sits well with Dexter's batting, primarily because of the way in which he attacked through the off side off his back foot. This is a stroke so difficult to master that more prosaic batters choose to ignore it. It is no great surprise that Dexter thought Gordon Greenidge and Martin Crowe the two most technically correct right-hand players that he saw, citing their ability to stay sideways-on and to play the ball alongside their body as the prime reason for the accolade.

He was a huge fan of Joe Root and became near apoplectic during the England captain's relatively lean spell a while ago, when he became square-on to the bowler and was playing in front of his body. This niggled so much that he wrote to Root without mincing his words. Though at first put out, Root soon saw the kindness in a man of Dexter's age and knowledge who bothered to write, and therefore returned an email of thanks with the observation that he took the point. Who knows to what degree? It is enough to say that this year Root has batted about as well as any man could have done, and no one has enjoyed each of these innings in Sri Lanka, India, and now at home as much as Dexter.

One final appeal: Dexter (fourth from left) watches as umpire Charlie Elliot gives John Inverarity out off Derek Underwood, The Oval, 1968 Getty Images

For the best part of a year now, Ted has been banging on about Dawid Malan: simply couldn't understand why England didn't pick him to bat at three. He cited the hundred in Perth in 2017 and this year's big scores for Yorkshire before predicting near-certain success with the method that brought those runs. It is sad, indeed, that he didn't live to see the fulfillment of his prophecy in Malan's fine innings yesterday. He liked the look of James Vince and Zak Crawley too, cricketers who stand tall and play with freedom. He got a lot right, this man of Radley, Cambridge, Sussex and England.

Tall himself, strong, handsome and impossibly glamorous, Edward Ralph Dexter caught everyone's eye. With the golden Susan Longfield on his arm, they cut quite a dash and cared little for the sniping that came from those less blessed. The enigma in him - and how! - was often confused with indifference, and though cricket has remained his other great love, it was never the be-all and end-all for him - a fact that made his appearances all the more cherished and his company all the more engaging. It is remarkable to think that he first retired as far back as 1965, before returning briefly in 1968 to make a double-hundred at Hastings against Kent and be immediately recalled to the England team for the Ashes. In the brilliant photograph (above) of the moment when Derek Underwood claims the final wicket at The Oval, Ted is caught spinning to appeal for lbw with a face that smacks of a lifelong instinct for competition and achievement.

"Ted was a man of moods, often caught up in theories, keen when the action was hot, seemingly uninterested when the game was dull... a big-time player, one who responded to atmosphere, liked action and enjoyed the chase and gamble. Maybe this was the reason he was drawn to horse racing so that a dull day stalking the covers might be enlivened for him by thoughts of how his money was faring on the 3:15 at Ascot or Goodwood." — John Snow

Richie Benaud and Dexter in Sydney during the 1963-64 Ashes Frank Albert Charles Burke / Fairfax Media/Getty Images

And Snow would know for he was not the type to rise above those grey days of county cricket when the stakes were so low. Snow and Dexter, my first heroes, along with Jimmy Greaves and George Best, Muhammad Ali, the Beatles and the Stones - all of them important figures at 29 Queensdale Road, where the young Nicholas grew up with vinyl records and cared-for willow, narrow-grained and well-oiled for the garden Test matches that England forever won.

Much of the 1960s were about rebellion, revolution even, in response to the age of austerity. After the long and mainly drab post-war years, the young simply broke free and changed pretty much anything they could get their hands on. Music and fashion led the way, leaving sport's establishment to stutter in their wake. Only a few precious players could transcend the inertia, using both their talent and expression to delight the crowds and influence the young. Cricket was my thing, Dexter and Snow were the wind beneath my wings.

In Snow there truly was rebellion, against authority and the system it supported. This was not so in Dexter's case, though his free spirit and somewhat cavalier approach to responsibility gave the impression of one determined to ruffle feathers. From the outset he adored sport, worked harder than some might think at his books, and embraced diversions with the enthusiasm of a man who had more to do than could ever be done.

In many ways Ted was a contradiction: at once a conformist, as shaped by the early years of his life at home and school, and a modernist, whose lateral thinking did much to reform the structure of English cricket during his time as chairman of selectors. Richie Benaud observed that Ted's imagination and drive "will be of great benefit to English cricket in years to come. Equally, I'm in no doubt that others will take the credit for it." The rebellion in Ted was hardly radicalised but he loved to challenge conservative thinking, to take risks and to invest in his life as an adventure. Both on and off the field, this made for a terrific watch.

The best of Ted: Dexter on his way to 70 against Wes Hall and Charlie Griffith at Lord's, June 1963 PA Photos

He thought the Hundred a good wheeze and admitted he would rather like to have played it himself. He was, of course, the original thinker about one-day cricket, supporting its conception as early as the late 1950s and then leading Sussex to the first two 60-over titles at Lord's in the Gillette Cup. He paid close attention to the tactics and convinced his men that following them to the letter would do the trick. Which it did. He pushed for four-day county matches 27 years before they were incorporated and he founded the idea of central contracts for England players long before other teams caught the bug.

He was proud of his part in the development of the spirit of cricket, applying golf's moral high ground to the game that made his name. Through his own PR agency, he became a pioneer in cricket's digital-technology revolution by inventing the system of Test match rankings that first announced itself under the banner of Deloitte and is now the ICC international rankings.

On a Zoom call a couple of months back, with tongue firmly in cheek, he said, "Having a rather high opinion of myself, I can safely say that had the rankings been in place sometime around the mid part of the 1963 summer, I would have been the No. 1-rated batsman in the world." We had special guests on these calls - Mike Atherton, Michael Vaughan, Ed Smith, Robin Marlar, Sir Tim Rice and more - all keen to share a drink, chew the cud and have a laugh with the game's most original and forward-thinking mind.

Champagne days: (from left) Fred Trueman, Dexter, David Sheppard and Colin Cowdrey celebrate after winning the Melbourne Test, January 1963 PA Photos/Getty Images

We cannot jump past golf without mentioning the game at the Australian Golf Club in Sydney when Ted partnered Norman Von Nida against Jack Nicklaus and Gary Player. So enamoured of Ted's golf were they that Nicklaus suggested Ted follow him back to the USA for a crack at the tour. Player has long said that Ted was the best amateur ball-striker he ever saw and Von Nida just thanked him for securing the one-up triumph that day. Eighteen months ago Player told me that in their one head to head with each other, Ted beat him up the last at Sunningdale, receiving only four shots. "Little so-and-so," said Ted, "we played level!" They were due for a game last summer but Covid stood firmly between them. The last time I played with Ted, two summers ago now, he beat his age, shooting 83 round the Old Course at Sunningdale without breaking a sweat.

This was a man of Jaguar cars, Norton motorbikes, greyhounds, race horses and an Aztec light airplane that, in 1970, he piloted to Australia with his young family beside him, to cover the Ashes as a journalist. They flew 12,000 miles and made about two dozen stops at British military bases along the way.

Ted married the very beautiful Susan soon after returning from Australia and New Zealand in the spring of 1959. How she is hurting today. So too Genevieve, Tom and the grandchildren.

There was an eccentricity in him that was occasionally misunderstood but otherwise immensely appealing and it is with that in mind, that I turn to the man himself for the final word. It comes from his blog, which is a splendid read and will remain a platform for the family to share their thoughts about this husband, father and grandfather who brought us so much joy.

Dexter and Frank Worrell at a BBC interview with Peter West, August 1963 Harry Todd / Fox Photos/Getty Images

It was in my last term at Radley College when I had a hard game of rackets in the morning, scored 3 tries with two conversions for the 1st XV in the afternoon, was heard listening to operatic voices in the early evening, before repairing to the Grand Piano in the Mansion and knocking off a couple of Chopin preludes. "Quite the Renaissance man it seems" said my Social Tutor and I admit I liked the sound of it, if not quite knowing what it meant.

The Encyclopaedia Brittanica description of Renaissance man (or polymath) is as follows: one who seeks to develop skills in all areas of knowledge, in physical development and social accomplishment and in the arts. A point is made that you do not need to excel at any one activity. It is enough to tackle it seriously and see how far you get. I like the physical development bit obviously and I feel the social accomplishment bit is covered by my willingness to take on responsibilities all my life. Perhaps the arts bit is a bit shaky but a love for music, and particularly opera, and love of language - being fairly fluent in French, Italian, rudimentary German and Spanish - may be some modest qualifications."

Some different cat, huh. What a man. What a cricketer. Goodbye Ted, and thank you.