new posts in all blogs
Viewing Blog: WriterBear, Most Recent at Top
Results 26 - 50 of 386
This is my blog on being in and working for an MFA program, my life as a writer and reader, and other fun stuff like Buddhism, bears, the Red Sox, and chocolate.
Statistics for WriterBear
Number of Readers that added this blog to their MyJacketFlap: 4
Um, since it's almost Chinese New Year, I'd say it's about time. The rest of you are like, "We started 2012 a few weeks ago, thanks." Family emergencies have prohibited regular posting, but I'll try to be better now.
Following on my last post, they are slowly revealing the LOTR Lego characters. Here is the latest, Legolas (LEGOlas, get it?). Love the cheekbones. At least I think they're supposed to be cheekbones, not facial scars a la Inigo Montoya.
In LA recently they did a live reading of The Princess Bride. Fred Savage returned to play the boy. Cary Elwes played Prince Humperdinck (guess he wanted to try life on the dark side). Wish I could have seen it!
Hobbit/LOTR Legos? For real? How cute are they? I'll have to get some for my desk or maybe bookshelf at work.
No, I'm not a kindergarten teacher. But I have a random collection of stuff that has very little to do with Higher Education in my office, including: a squeezable brain; a mini hippie duck and a mini surfer duck; mini versions of the pyramids and sphinx (just as well, the life-size versions wouldn't really fit); a Red Sox bear, a kiwi dressed in an all-blacks uniform that chants the haka; a mini Zen garden (the sand gets everywhere if I'm not careful) and a variety of other random objects, most with some cultural significance or other. Mardi Gras beads, Japanese dolls, a pendant to ward off the evil eye... those, and plants, are taking over my office. I'm not a plant person, but people keep giving them to me, and colleagues are kind enough to stop by once in a while to make sure they are watered/cut back, and generally cared for, since I tend not to notice. In fact, my boss gave me a plant the other day and I didn't even notice I had a new one until he pointed it out.
But I have piles of papers on my desk that could easily be filed (cough, cough) to make way for an entire Middle-Earth diorama. I could hang a Lego Smaug off the desk lamp. I could put Mt. Doom on top of one of the piles of paper (apt, no?). Frodo and/or Bilbo and friends could wander around my desk, evading orcs, trolls, wargs, etc. while trying to find treasure/get rid of the ring. This would all be a lot more fun than doing my actual job.
Of course, nothing could beat Lord of the Peeps.
Whew! Now that I've got all my Creative Swim posts transferred here, I'm feeling a bit less fragmented, and more attuned with my ongoing exploration creativity in general. I've been reading another of Julia Cameron's books, The Sound of Paper, which is a collection of short essays and exercises on her usual topics - overcoming creative blocks of all kinds. I like the "creative gulp" offered by the 2-3 page chapters and the short exercises... easier to digest than the chapters of The Artist's Way and some of her other books. I can read a chapter or two before Morning Pages, and prime the pump a little, and remember some of the lessons of a creative life that seem to slip off the radar so easily: write a little every day, keep the faith, etc. Yes, it sounds banal baldly put like that, but creativity is very much an interior struggle - it takes place in largely in the unconscious, where the rational does not hold sway.
It helps to be familiar with her concepts of Morning Pages and Artist Dates, but you don't need to be to get the most out of the book. Yes, it's repetitive, but sometimes we just need that encouraging voice on repeat, because the message never gets old. Our creative lives are important. Our art is worth pursuing, whether or not we ever receive public acclaim for it.
Once you've created your piece - a painting, novel, or whatever form you use - all artists face the difficulty of finding an audience for it. Yes, we'd also like to be paid, but before we can even think of that we need to make it available for people to actually buy. There are a lot of people who do it for the love of it (art for art's sake). But most of us have to face that pesky question of audience at some point.
For writers, it was always difficult to get the work out there without the intermediaries of the publishing world - agents, editors, publishing houses and their marketing and distribution networks. The recent rise of new publishing forms has given writers a new power over the process. E-books, print on demand, self-publishing printed books... now literally anyone with the equivalent of a monkey's ability with a computer can "publish" a book. In many ways, this is a good thing. In rare cases, the "official" publishing world takes notice of a self-published title that sells particularly well and decides to jump in and see if they can make a little money with a proven winner.
And generally speaking, if it's not a success, it harms no one (except maybe the writer's ego). But still. It's hard to get anyone to notice. One writer I know calls it "publishing into the great yawn." Self-publishing in any form is a difficult endeavor - although you eliminate the publishing conglomerate, you are then responsible for all editing, design, marketing, distribution, sales... and few of us are great at every aspect of the process.
One author has lately become a byword for what not to do, and how many would-be authors make the mistake of assuming that because they've written something it is ready to be published. I won't go into the whole debacle here, but in short, there is a blogger who is kind enough to review "independent" works. He reviewed a particular book, and the author, shall we say, took exception to his review (although I haven't read the book in question, the review seemed generous; you'll see why if you go here and read about it).
At the very least, if you are going to put your work out there to be read, you have to be prepared for it to be reviewed. And you have to be prepared for people not to love everything about it. You have to be able to take constructive criticism. People like this writer are what make self-published authors in many eyes synonymous with bad writing and a total lack of professionalism. If you are going to publish, in any form, you have to be a professional about it, or you will not have that coveted audience for very long.
Here is a link to a great interview with editor, reviewer, and writer Robert Gottlieb from Salon.com: "From Editor to Writer."
Some of my favorite quotes:
"I never wanted to be a writer. I don't like writing -- it's so difficult to say what you mean. It's much easier to edit other people's writing and help them say what they mean."
"As I've told generations of writers who have writer's block, "Don't think about writing. Think about typing."'
"I don't want to be "creative." I love what I do, which is a service job. I've always said that I want my tombstone to read, "He got it done"...Get it done, whether it's writing the piece or doing the dishes: Do it. Don't sit around moping. On the other hand, I do sit around moping! When it comes to writing, I can't haul myself to the computer. I put it off all day. Usually around 11 at night, I drag myself over there and I say, "OK, I've got to type something." Then when I'm actually doing it, it's fine. It's not the doing it, it's the getting myself to do it."
He also has a lot of wonderful things to say from the editor's perspective, and he's worked with some of the most amazing writers of the last 50 years or so, and his insights are well worth reading.
Lately I've been reading The Midnight Disease: The Drive to Write, Writer's Block, and the Creative Brain, by Alice W. Flaherty. She's a neurologist, so she comes at the topic from a biological perspective; she's also a writer, and one who has suffered from hypergraphia (the compulsive urge to write). She interweaves the scientific with the literary in discussing these topics, and the result is fascinating.
Most writers talk about "being visited by the muse" or "being blocked" as though these forces for inspiration or creative stifling come from outside themselves. Flaherty talks about the interactions between the various areas of the brain, particularly the temporal lobes and limbic systems, and how they affect our ability to communicate not just words but also meaning, emotion, and metaphor in writing. She discusses how mood disorders and various forms of mental illness affect creativity and our ability to communicate as well.
She writes to some extent about ways of overcoming challenges to writing, particularly blocks, but this isn't a self-help book. It's a look at the neurobiology of how and why we write, and it is heavy on the neurobiology - there were times when it felt a little slow - but it also blows a lot of myths and misconceptions out of the water, as well as discussing intriguing (and a little scary) new scientific advances that may allow humans to enhance their creativity at will. It's worth reading just to know what science can and can't explain about our urge to create via the written word.
I wrote in an earlier post that for most of us, the main association we have with time is a feeling of "not enough." There is never enough time to do all we need to do, never mind all we want to do (I suppose I could write a whole other post on how creativity can be a need but all too easily fall into the "want" category).
But what about the opposite challenge: having time, but not using it well? We usually feel so ridden by external deadlines and mandates that as soon as we get some unstructured time, we feel the need to celebrate by throwing off the shackles for some unfettered do nothing time. This is where the urge to be creatively productive can collide with the urge to be a sloth in front of the tv. I wrote before about finding a balance between these.
But what happens when we do find ourselves at the computer (or easel, or whatever) and our focus goes out the window? All of a sudden we are bombarded with all the other things we could be doing: washing dishes, reading a book, calling a friend... all can seem vitally important and infinitely preferable to the hard work facing us on the blank page.
One focusing technique that has emerged to help people focus and be productive is the Pomodoro Technique. (Pomodoro is the Italian word for tomato; the technique is so named because the originator lived in Italy and the time he came up with the idea, and his timer was shaped liked a tomato.) At its heart it's pretty simple:
- write out a list of tasks
- figure out how many "pomodoros" or 25-minute intervals it will likely take you to complete each task
- set a timer to 25 minutes, and work straight through with no interruptions
- take a 5-minute break
- start again with the next pomodoro. After four pomodoros, take a 20-minute break.
If you read the entire handbook, available free from the
website, you learn all the details of the technique, which frankly made my eyes glaze over since sometimes the calculations can seem like more work than the work you're trying to accomplish. But trying the technique at home and at work has not only helped me to focus better and get more work done, it's also taught me that a) I get a lot of interruptions at work, and b) I am not as good as I thought at calculating how long a task is likely to take.
I'll admit I haven't followed it religiously. If I'm really in the middle of something, then I might not take a break right at the 25 minute mark. But knowing the clock is ticking does help me focus and get less sidetracked by distractions. I also feel a sense of accomplishment at the number of pomodoros I rack up. I'm still experimenting to see what works best for me, but it seems to help structure my time in a way that doesn't feel too regimented. I can see some creatives scoffing, but telling yourself that you're going to work (or play) for four pomodoros sounds much less intimidating than two hours, yes?
If anyone has their own focusing techniques to share, please do so in the comments!
A friend alerted me to this recent article in the New Yorker: Hollywood Shadows: a cure for blocked screenwriters.
Therapists Barry Michels and Phil Stutz have "developed a program designed to access the creative power of the unconscious and address complaints common among their clientele: writer’s block, stagefright, insecurity, the vagaries of the entertainment industry." Their methods may seem somewhat unorthodox, but they clearly work for a number of people. For example, they tell patients that instead of visualizing the most positive outcome, they should visualize "things going horribly wrong." This does make sense: if we bring to light our worst fears, they are no longer hiding in our subconscious, or semi-conscious, but are out there where we can deal with them. They no longer seem like the end of the world.
I particularly liked a quote from Stutz: “The risk you take has a feedback effect on the unconscious,” he says. “The unconscious will give you ideas and it wants you to act on them. The more courage you have when you act, the more ideas it will give you.” I'll discuss creative risk-taking in a later post because I feel it deserves more attention than I can give it here without making this post ridiculously long.
Michels is heavily influenced by Jung and his Shadow archetype. Again, it's all about bringing the Shadow aspects of ourselves to light, to begin to work with and appreciate our Shadow and the creative energy it embodies. Other works have been written on bringing the Shadow under conscious control, and maybe I'll write a longer post on that, too.
Procrastination (which I dealt with in my last entry) is one of the biggest problems faced by writers of all kinds. Michels explains it in terms of Jung's Father archetype, as an example of rebellion against authority. Time itself (Father Time) is the inexorable authority figure, and every time we procrastinate or waste time, we are defying him. Michels cure is simple: to sit down at the computer for a fixed length of time each day, no matter what. It's an act of surrender to the inevitable, and it can activate the creative energy that would otherwise be wasted in pointless rebellion (after all, time is passing, no matter how you spend it). This is different than how I've viewed it, but I can see how it might be a powerful concept.
If you're at all interested in these issues, I encourage you to read the full article. If nothing else, it will make you grateful you don't work in Hollywood. If you do, you have my sympathies.
Many of us feel we simply don't have enough time to do what we need to do, never mind what we want to do. And what seems to be the external directive to "be productive" at whatever cost has us racing to keep up with all those externally-mandated crises and deadlines.
Then there are the internal ones: these are often the creative ones. After all, unless we're already a paid author or artist, no one is banging down the door demanding our work. The deadlines become internalized, all in our own minds, and are no less demanding but never (or at least rarely) acknowledged outside our own heads.
Is it possible, though, to live our lives in such a way that we can do some of what we want to do, and some of what we need to do, and find a balance that works?
My trick is to allow myself the things that I know will sidetrack me and create overwhelming, time-sucking cravings if I don't attend to them. For example, if I haven't done any writing on a particular day, I will allow myself one hour of television or reading as a way to relax between work and writing. Then I turn it off or put it down, and go write. This works for me, because if I put tv or reading off as a reward until after writing, it would distract me the whole time I was writing. I would be focused on the reward, and not the activity. Also, I would be reinforcing writing as the undesirable activity I have to get through before I can "reward" myself. This way it doesn't become drudgery. I keep my goal in mind - to write my book - but also keep in mind that I need a little down time in order to turn to creative work with an open mind and heart.
This allows me to focus on and savor the down time. I don't feel guilty about watching tv or reading, because I'm not thinking I should be doing something else, like writing. I am fully engaged and appreciating what I'm doing right now. It's about choosing what I want to do in a given moment, and not feeling that my life is dominated by "shoulds."
Is your creative life dominated by "shoulds?" I should be making my art, I should be writing, etc.? When we view creativity as a "should" it drains us of energy and motivation. We want to rebel against it because it doesn't feel like a choice. And because our creative deadlines are internal, we can shirk them because no one notices but us.
But we do notice. We become filled with guilt and shame, which eat away at us until we associate the creative activity with those feelings. Sometimes we alleviate them with a little burst of activity, but no matter how good that feels, we can rarely keep it up for long. Why? Because our underlying attitude is still negatively focused. We aren't doing the activity because we love it, but because we fear the shame and guilt if we don't. It becomes a "should" again, thus perpetuating the vicious circle.
The solution begins with us: to view the time spent creating as precious time, something we want to do, we have to include it in our list as a rewarding activity. It's a major mind-shift for most of us, who tend to view creating as something we "want to want" to do. Keeping my overall goals in mind: do I want to write a book, or watch another hour of television/read another sixty pages of someone else's? helps me choose writing consciously as an activity I want to do. I don't drag my feet, grumbling and resentful that I haven't done anything to relax today.
The truth is, we often waste more time procrastinating doing things on our "should" list if we never feel we get to do anything on our "wanna" list. Then we binge on the "wanna" and don't really enjoy it.
What do you really want to do? Nothing is off-limits (well, keep it legal). Let yourself do what you really want to do, no matter how trashy or time-wasting you think it is. Give yourself a limit, and let yourself fully enjoy it without guilt or shame. Then see if you find the time and energy and desire to create. Does your attitu
Most people who saw the film Up saw a sweet story about love and friendship and adventure. Apparently some scientists and engineers saw it and said, "I wonder if you could actually attach balloons to a house and have it fly?" What do you know, they tried it, and it worked. It will be shown later this year on the National Geographic Channel, but you can see photos and some video of the results at the Inside NGC blog. I love this because these guys are combining creative play with their engineering know-how and creating something with absolutely no commercial value whatsoever. At least, I don't think there's going to be a run on balloon-house travel anytime soon. Wouldn't it be awesome, though, to carry your house with you as you traveled? You'd be able to explore the world and still sleep in your own bed every night.
I just finished reading the book Dear Me: A Letter To My Sixteen-Year-Old Self. It's a collection of letters written by famous people to their younger selves. Contributors include Yoko Ono, Stephen Fry, Emma Thompson, Annie Lennox, Jackie Collins, Debbie Harry, Baz Luhrman, and Sir Elton John, among many others. Some of the letters are funny, and many are moving. Some are both. Of course, almost anyone reading these will immediately think, what would I write to myself at sixteen? What would my sixteen year old self think of me now? The book invites you to write your own letter, and post it at mydearmeletter.blogspot.com. These are actually more interesting than most of the famous peoples' letters, since people in the book, well, they've succeeded, haven't they? What about the rest of us, who haven't achieved that level of fame? Also, the blog letters are written by people who don't have a public persona to keep up. There's a lot less guardedness in their letters.
What would I say to myself at sixteen?
- You're not going to get any taller. Get over it.
- You will get thinner. Not thin, but you'll lose a lot of that extra weight when you stop dieting. By the time you're 35 or so, you'll realize that it's more about health than what you look like anyway. And you'll be really grateful that you're healthy.
- You're about to embark on an incredible year in Japan. You'll have amazing experiences, you'll learn a lot about yourself, you'll really miss your friends - but don't bother going home in time for graduation. It's really boring and you'll remember why you were so anxious to leave high school in the first place.
- This will be the beginning of a lot of really cool travel to all sorts of places. P.S. don't just stick the money you get out of the ATM machine at the Madrid airport in your pocket. Put it in your moneybelt, where it belongs.
- You say you're not going to get married now, and you're right - you won't (at least as of this writing). You're fine with that, even though the culture still tells you you shouldn't be. Almost half of U.S. households consist of single people, so you're not some freakish tiny minority.
- You won't have your first book published by 30. Or 40. Sorry. You will have your MFA though, and you'll have given up a lot of silly romantic ideas of what it means to be a writer.
- You'll have a renewed appreciation for your family, and you'll have really amazing, wonderful friends who love you for who you are. In fact, some of the people who are your best friends now are still your friends 25 years later. Cool, eh?
- Finally, stop perming your hair. Just, stop. The Little Orphan Annie look is not attractive. You're not ever going to have long, thick, curly hair, and processing it into frizz is not fooling anybody. You're welcome.
What would you say to yourself at sixteen? Write a letter in your journal, or post it on the Dear Me blog. It's a fun exercise. If you've kept them, go back to your journals from that age. All the drama! The angst! The humor! What seeds were sown then have blossomed now? Are there things you loved then that you'd like to bring back into your life?
Here is an amazing article at The Good Men Project by writer Rachel Kadish about her cousin, Noam Galai. He took a photograph of himself one day... and that photo has launched a connection with people all over the world, who have appropriated it for everything from T shirts to protest posters. It's an incredible story, about how one person's creative act inspired so many others, the power of technology to spread images, and the power of a creative renaissance to spring from a simple photograph. Amid the social and political commentary one thing stood out to me: through the experience of having his photograph catapulted to iconic status without his knowledge, Noam Galai more readily identifies himself as a photographer, and as an artist. Through the power of creative connection, he can claim his own creative power. And it reminds us that we truly never know what small creative spark can start the fire that spreads far beyond us to let others bask in its glow, be warmed by its heat, and even add their own fuel to keep it going.
A friend recently returned from Japan, bearing all kinds of foods that are either very Japanese, or have a Japanese twist.
- white chocolate flavored with seaweed
- green tea mochi (pounded glutinized rice) filled with black sesame paste
- white mochi filled with green tea paste and cream
- Kit Kat bars with original flavorings, including plum and lemon pepper
Anyone who has been to Japan will recognize that they are nothing if not creative in terms of making foods their own. Pizza topped with tuna and corn and mayonnaise? Yup. There are a million examples, but the point is, the Japanese are known for being willing to take an imported concept and play with it until it works in their unique context. They don't just accept "the way it is."
What "rules" or received wisdom do you follow without question? When was the last time you created something different out of an old structure? It can be as simple as adding something new to a recipe. Mixing a poem in with prose. Collaging over a painting. Getting up on the other side of the bed.
For those interested in actually creating new versions of foods, there is an industry springing up to serve you.
Ecreamery.com lets you create your own ice cream and gelato flavors.
Chocri allows you to create your own types of chocolate bars, using a base of dark, white or milk chocolate and then mixing in toppings - caramel, fleur de sel, chocolate sizzle rocks, mango cubes... etc. All right, now I'm just making myself hungry. Time to go enjoy a plum-flavored Kit Kat.
Over the next week or so, I will be reposting some of the posts I originally wrote for my Creative Swim blog. Enjoy!
Last night I watched the documentary on British comedian Eddie Izzard's life, called
Believe. It was not only fascinating in terms of seeing his particular journey, but also as a reminder of how long an "overnight success" can take. And how much tenacity, perseverance, and, yes,
belief is required. I had no idea that when I saw him as part of the Hysteria 3 benefit concert 20 years ago (and what a shock to think it's been 20 years since I lived in England) that it was his first major exposure outside of the comedy club circuit. He'd been doing street performing and comedy gigs for ten years, but that three-minute gig was the beginning of his huge success. I remember being in the audience, laughing my ass off, and wondering (along with most everyone else): "Who
is this guy? He's hilarious!" And no wonder he was so shocked when I met him a few years ago and told him how long I'd been a fan. He didn't start making it in the U.S. until ten years after that.
In the documentary, Eddie talks a lot about Belief and the role it plays in success. Before you can be a comedian, you have to believe you're a comedian. Before you can be an actor, you have to believe you can be an actor. Before you can be anything, really, especially in the arts where there are often long, slogging years before you see any sort of success, you have to believe that you
are already what you want to be known as.
I see this, or its lack, in writers. It takes guts to say "I'm a writer" when you haven't published anything yet. But without this belief, it's easy to act like a wannabe. It's easy to say "I'll do it... someday" when you don't have the belief that your art is important. That you deserve to take your place as an artist. That you don't need permission from some outside force before you can call yourself an artist. No one can give you Belief. After years of no external markers of success (publication, a gallery show, a paid acting gig...) it can be hard to have that belief. Add to that the pressure of making a living (the "real" job), maintaining relationships with family and friends, raising children... and it's easy to see why belief in yourself as something as "selfish" as being an artist is difficult. But if you don't take yourself seriously as an artist, who will?
But all this is not to say that it doesn't also involve a lot of hard work. That's another thing that was abundantly clear from the documentary. Eddie is a hustler, in the best sense. He created a lot of his own opportunities. I'm sure he got depressed that things weren't going as quickly as he'd hoped, but he never gave up, never stopped trying new ways of putting himself out there. For example, when he wasn't getting the gigs he wanted, he started a comedy club. He emceed and performed in it. And because it wasn't making much money, he did other gigs at outside venues to pay the rent at his venue. And sure enough, with all this activity, he got noticed. He was invited to do the Hysteria 3 gig, which was his big break. Now
that's hustle.
And he also never played the part of "The Comedian." You know what I mean. We all know Artists who do little more than talk about their art. They talk about it constantly, they take a class now and then, they attend a conference, they're never seen without some emblem of their art with them - sheet music, or a notebook, etc. - but they never seem to actually produce much. None of these things are bad in and of themselves, but these people never settle down to
do the work. Actors who never audition but are constantly working on their monologue, painters who only sketch, writers who read lots of books on writing but never tackle that novel... we've all seen them. Sometimes we've been them. We convince ourselves we're doing something Important but all
Honey joined Lucky in his den this year... the first time they've denned together in three years. According to the NABC team, she is being her usual ornery self - clacking her jaws in irritation while Lucky whines and tries to avoid her in the cramped den space. Neither has left, however. And it has to be tight in there since Lucky is now an adult. They are putting in a den cam to try to see what will happen over the winter.
I've been swamped with paying-job work as well as the usual holiday stuff... cards, the buying and wrapping of presents, baking... the party season has started as well. I am still hoping to get a photo book together from my NZ trip. All of which means my other writing has taken a year-end vacation, which makes me cranky. Remembering to keep a balance - to write a little each day, even if it's half what I would do in a less-busy season - is crucial. I keep trying to do a Tomato or two of work, but my Tomatoes tend to slide into each other and not fit into neat 25-minute segments. (I wrote about Tomatoes - i.e. the Pomodoro Technique - on my now-defunct but still posted Creative Swim blog. I had to abandon it because I can barely keep up with one blog, never mind two. I suppose I should re-post the posts from Creative Swim here, so I can keep it all together.) Truth to tell, I've been flailing in my latest book. But I have enough experience to know the only way out is through. It's like jumping into a cold lake - you've just got to do it; it's not going to get any warmer while you're just standing there, and you might end up talking yourself out of doing it at all.
I did manage to see the Muppet movie, and loved it. A real nostalgia trip. I think they did a good job of preserving the innocence and the humor, while also throwing some sly jokes directly aimed at the Gen-X nostalgia crowd who were kids when the Muppet Show was on and the first movies came out. It's a movie you can take your kids to that lacks the cynicism and snarkiness that's so popular today, and that will also take you back to your own childhood. And it is laugh-out-loud funny. What more can you ask for in a holiday de-stresser?
Do you have a "perfect book?" One that really hit you the first time you read it, and that you can read over and over again, and not want to change a thing? One of the first books I read that fit this criteria was Susan Cooper's The Dark Is Rising. I first read it when I was 9 or 10, and it still stays with me as the perfect blend of gothic creepiness, and fantasy mystery/adventure. Even the title gives you that sense of dread and suspense. The endless snow, the ravens, the Rider, the way that time moves back and forth, the search for the signs... the story is propelled forward by that sense of urgency and growing dread, even as the hero is coming to grips with who he is and trying to figure out what's going on. I didn't see the movie version because it got terrible reviews, and the author herself hated it (as I heard her say at an SCBWI conference) and it didn't look or sound good to me at all. They took a perfect story and tried to jazz it up with all sorts of CGI, as well as changing several central elements... basically an author's worst nightmare of what will happen once Hollywood gets a hold of your book. It still stands on its own to me as a "perfect book" and one that could have been adapted to the screen without a lot of changes. If I could write a book like that...
What's your "perfect book?"
From The Marlborough Express: "Rogue Sightings of Hobbits." Actually, they may be dwarves. Unless the actors are sporting their furry feet ("two hobbits walked into a bar...") I don't know how you'd be able to tell they were "hobbity." And really, once Bilbo leaves the Shire, there aren't any more hobbits until he returns. So, at least in theory, all hobbits should be in Hobbiton in Matamata, far away in the middle of the North Island (Marlborough is in the northern part of the South Island). But still, the very fact this made the papers tells you that the filming is a big deal there.
I'm looking forward to the dwarves' visit to Elrond in Rivendell. Watching Elrond trying to contend with a bunch of cantankerous dwarves. reminding himself, "Patience... I am Elrond, the wise and just... and, oh, just get these bloody dwarves out of here already!" Contrasting this with Thranduil in Mirkwood, who, when the dwarves won't state their business, promptly throws them in prison. Since they're bringing in Legolas, I'm wondering where he'll be in all this? Will he be for the imprisonment? Or will he think they should just send the dwarves on their way, who cares why they've come? It seems they are going to expand the Mirkwood section quite a bit, introducing a female elf who is doing who nkows what as well as Legolas, who wasn't in the book. Speaking of Mirkwood, you'd think Gandalf would've given the dwarves and Bilbo a little more warning before shooting off to deal with the Necromancer. He says "stay on the path," but doesn't really mention giant spiders, enchanted rivers, and suspicious elves. Fortunately for everybody, Bilbo really isn't as clueless as he seems. Hm... I can't wait for December of next year!
In the meantime, you can watch this great "noir" version of LOTR, featuring Humphrey Bogart as Frodo. I also love the hotel Moria, Godzilla as the Balrog, and the guy who plays Gollum - perfect! (Thanks to the Flying Moose of Nargothrond)
... there's an article trumpeting the popularity of YA novels as "crossover" fare, that appeals to adults (read: women) as well as teens. This isn't news, and hasn't been for a while now, but every so often some reporter decides it's worth trotting out again - yep, YA is still popular. Many pinpoint it to the publication of Twilight (I just wrote "twitlight" which I suppose unconsciously betrays my feelings about the series). I think it started earlier, with the Harry Potter series, which became tremendously popular with adults as well as children of all ages, though it was initially geared to middle-grade readers.
I don't know as I agree with the article's assessment that it's some sort of egocentricity that is the secret appeal of YA, or even with M.T. Anderson's idea that it's because Gen X has trouble "coming to grips with being adults." I think the reason for the popularity of YA is more simple: people of all ages love a good story, and YA writers (or writers for kids in general) are trained to be storytellers above all. You can't hold a kid's attention with gorgeous language alone, or the "look at my literary achievement - I'm a serious writer" tone of so many "adult" books. Yes, I read serous literature for beautiful language, great ideas, and insights into humanity, but let's face it, those truly great books are few. And yes, there are great storytellers among adult so-called genre writers, but the fact remains: there are some really good YA novels out there, with interesting themes, ideas, and characters, that deal with big issues, some in a very complicated way.
I hate the assumption that YA is somehow "dumbed down" adult literature. Like any genre, some of it is very good, and some of it is very bad - and a lot of it is much better and more original than commercial "adult" books. Adults are discovering that the scope of YA has expanded beyond what was available to us in high school, and that there are some great books out there that yes, do take us away from our adult problems and responsibilities for a little while. Nothing wrong with that.
I read a wonderful analysis of what's really ailing the picture book market in School Library Journal. I don't write them but I have a great appreciation for the form, and I think the author of this article has made some good points. So, picture book fans and writers, do you agree? I'm all for story, and I think this whole new "rule" of extremely short text is, well, short-sighted. There is room for more complex story in picture books, not just the beauty of language (or a cute gimmick). But there are a few points she doesn't make that I will add:
1. Picture books are extremely expensive to produce. At every conference I've been to, that point gets hammered home. They have to sell extremely well to break even, and if there is a perception (and reality) that they aren't selling well as a genre, then there will be very little risk-taking on the part of the publishing houses. Of course, what starts every mega-trend is someone taking a risk on something that is different - and then it becomes the "new" Big Thing.
2. Parents (and other picture book buyers) tend to buy the books they loved as children, hence the emphasis on classics, especially at picture-book or early-MG level. Only once kids start picking out (and later buying) their own books do you see more of a trend toward the new. I don'thave a problem with this, per se - passing down cherished classics is a wonderful way to bond and carry on traditions. I love that my mother gave me books like Little Women, The Secret Garden, and the Nancy Drew and Bobbsey Twins books when I was young. But kids - and young adults - will tend to gravitate toward the new and different when on thier own, generally speaking.
3. With less emphasis on text and story, picture books are more limited in their target age range. Once kids are ready to graduate to more complex stories and characters, they will go to chapter books since there is no longer much picture book middle ground between books for the very young and the slightly older kids who are ready for more meat on a book's bones, as it were.
Not from me, since, sadly, I don't have a personal invitation from Peter Jackson to visit the set (although that would be great, wouldn't it?) but from Quint at Ain't It Cool News - he's doing reports from the set for the next few weeks. It's strange to think I was on that Hobbiton set right before it closed to the public. No actual hobbits there, though...
... where I've gone from cherry blossoms in springtime to snow here. It's still a mixed bag in both places, though - I had rain/sleet/snow/floods in NZ and there are still green leaves on the trees here. Right now I'm focusing on getting my body back in sync with Eastern time, so when I go back to work tomorrow I won't fall asleep at my desk. I'm afraid to look at my email inbox at this point. It will, by far, be the scariest thing about Halloween... the Inbox Monster. Maybe that will be my costume - I'll just print out lots of emails and tape them to me so they cover me head to foot. Then I will chant a Borg-like "Resistance is futile" while making stiff-legged zombie steps toward unsuspecting people. Terrifying, I think you'll agree.
NZ as a whole is too overwhelming to wrap my head around at this point. Going through my photos, I see that I've mostly taken pictures of lakes, mountains, and rivers. Good thing I make a habit of writing them down in my travel journal each night, or they would be as indistinguishable as all the shots of temples I took in Egypt. I took a fair amount of LOTR site photos too - anywhere I happened to be passing by. Lots of places are only accessible by long unpaved roads or helicopters, the former a no-no for my rental car and the latter too expensive to indulge in. What amazed me was the level of perfectionism Peter Jackson had. I would have been all, "let's film from this side of the river, and then turn around and film from the other one," whereas he was, "let's find a completely different river in a different part of the country for the reaction shot to this shot," taking 400 (or however many) cast and crew along to do so. The scale of the three movies becomes mind-boggling at that level. Now there are only two Hobbit movies, and much more is apparently being done on a set in Wellington, versus traveling all over the country to get the exact patch of beech woods for a particular scene. Although they've probably already found Mirkwood, I'd like to put in a pitch for the Garden of Tane in Akaroa. They want dark, with limbs twisting overhead to form an eerie-looking tunnel? In spades, with different types of trees in different areas creating different parts of Mirkwood. I think being a location scout would be very cool. Maybe next time...
I've been very neglectful of my blogs lately... too busy planning my trip to NZ! I'm finally getting excited about going because it finally seems real.
And the Sox are kindly doing everything they can to stay out of the World Series so I don't miss them while I'm gone... isn't that nice? Except for Ellsbury. He hit 3 home runs yesterday. Clearly doesn't care about me at all, only wants his team in the playoffs.
Some sad news from the NABC... it appears likely that Hope was killed by a hunter at a bait trap. Lily and Faith are still alive and well, but obviously Hope's saga has meant a lot to a lot of people, and it's been difficult to figure out exactly what happened. But - that is a bear's life. For all the schoolchildren who were following her, it's a hard lesson, but an important one. She touched a lot of people, and helped them learn more about bears, so from a human perpsective, her life had "meaning."
I'm off on Wednesday, so my updates may be very brief and sporadic - or maybe I'll have time to do a sort of travel blog. We'll see!
I've never seen a bear do a somersault before, but you can in this video where Lucky plays with a carpet tube: http://youtu.be/XjHJiHO6onE
Here he takes a bath: http://youtu.be/Kwn80f5vkQk
There are lots of videos from the NABC on their YouTube channel, from throughout the spring and summer.
It's been a long time since I've done a writerly post, but I read Jane Espenson's weekly article on last week's Torchwood episode on afterelton.com and this phrase struck me: "Russell T Davies will almost always choose suspense – it's stronger and longer lasting than surprise. Newer writers often go for surprise, valuing the shock."
I've been interested in her analyses of the episodes, those she didn't write as well as the ones she did. {spoilers ahead}
I found this episode somewhat problematic, since what creates the suspense is that the audience knows more than the characters do at this point - which can make the characters seem clueless for the sake of plot. In the scenes with Esther and Rex in the camp, I thought, "these are two trained ex-CIA agents?" I mean, I know Esther is supposed to just be an analyst, and inexperienced, but at this point wouldn't she be starting to get a clue that THESE PEOPLE ARE DANGEROUS? And she even gave them her real name to work there? She finally kicks butt, so I thought, well, she's had physical training, at least. But I would've made sure that guy wasn't gonna move before I went to get the keys off him - knowing he can't actually die and all. Even Rex - come on, even if you didn't know the guy killed Vera, he's the head of the facility. You really think he doesn't know what's going on there? Just like Vera, Rex gives the whole game away when his first priority should be getting the hell out of there.
All in all, it didn't feel like we learned anything new in this episode, except that there's something really, really bad in China connected with the miracle. And oh, those guys who kept trying and failing to kill Jack, now have engineered a way to get Gwen to bring him to them. Which sets us up for what should be a really good episode next week.
I haven't been blogging about True Blood this season, because there's just way too much going on, and some of it I'm interested in, and some of it I'm not. I love Marnie/Antonia. The devil baby storyline looks like it's going somewhere interesting. Ditto Jessica/Jason. I know a lot of fans have been waiting for the Eric/Sookie hookup, but so far it seems... oddly dull. I just don't think those two have any chemistry. They're pretty and all, but - no heat. Maybe it's just because Eric is little lost baby vampire Eric (who actually showed his vampire side when he yanked that witch's heart out) who is all sweet and cuddly. He's such a puppy Marnie was actually petting him at the end of the episode. Now he's even more enspelled. I'm liking the whole witches vs. vamps thing - it's not the traditional good vs. evil but allows for all kind of interesting shades of gray.
View Next 25 Posts
