Month: June 2016

Tonight I took the family to the drive inn for their first experience and my first in a good fifteen years. This drive in had screens fanned out in a circle establishing the rim of the place. As I scanned the various films, all of them silent except the feed to one pumping from the truck speakers, I realized something. All the films were following the same precise pattern to develop the opening moments of the story. In other words, all six films were taking the time to establish the world from the perspective of the viewer and of the characters we would be viewing. This is an often overlooked aspect of writing. We build a world and we either want to talk about it or talk about the people in it, but rarely does this happen in context with new writers.

By context I mean showing the rules of the world in a way that pertains to how the character is presently interacting with the world. The rules of the world impact us every day. I cross at the crosswalk because I know doing otherwise might set me up to get smacked by a car. If I were to write this world building moment I would show me crossing as another person crosses inappropriately and I would take notice of them as they narrowly avoid a car or interrupt traffic–which can also show how a person is self-centered vs. someone who wants to blend in as a rule follower.

The best writing is that which strikes a cord in the reader–a moment where the reader gets what you are saying and is able to reference/connect it to moments in their own existence. World building is bridge building, because you are building a bridge of understanding between your world and wherever the viewers come from and wherever they keep their emotions.

 

Some Thoughts:

1. I heard someone today (a commercial I think) argue about how we ought to keep dreaming when we are adults and not give up on the hope that we can be anything we want to be. It resonated with me because I think people do give up all too quickly. At the same time I think we all need to be a lot more honest about our skills and where we are at in the world. I’m a mediocre teacher, an occasionally decent writer who doesn’t take the proper time the craft deserves, and someone who vacillates between having his head stuck in the clouds and into too many projects/schemes to be truly effective at any of them. There, how’s that for honest.
2. Okay, that felt freeing, but now what?

This is one of those weird nights when i’m trying to get the blog done early so I can finally close my eyes…before 11 PM. It has been a week. Twilight broke me then I finally had occasion to go to the pool and even play some hoops with the kids. Turns out I have zero lung capacity and get winded considering whether or not to track down a rebound. Speaking of sports, I wanted to give further consideration to my piece on coaching. I think it bears saying that these coaches care. They work extremely hard for no money and put everything into making the kids successful. I cannot complain about that. All I can do is praise them. However, this isn’t going to be about them. This is about the idea of competition as a whole.

I’ve been thinking about the organized sports world all wrong. It is and should be highly competitive at each level. I say this because these aren’t a bunch of kids gathering on sunday for a pickup game at the temple. That right there is what rec sports ought to look like–kids who are not entirely about that life having fun. Once you slap on a uniform; once you play organized athletics you are signing up for competition. You are saying ‘I am here to represent something’ be it the team on your jersey, your teammates or what have you, the point of being on the team is to respectfully carry on the legacy and tradition of excellence. Nobody gets into sports to suck. People do however enter sports without caring.

That is what I get upset about. I don’t like it when it is clear that some kids are about it and others want to pet a butterfly. That mix of mentality brings the team down and turns the experience into something you could’ve gotten in the back yard, not something that you paid a bunch of money to see happen.

I’ve talked about Twilight in class and to friends and on the web and basically anywhere I could preach. I’ve said the stories are classic examples of bad writing–purple prose wrapping an unbelievable conflict and useless protagonist like gift paper. I read through a good deal of the first book in order to form this opinion and knew that I would never ever see the movies.

Never say never.

I struck an accord with my lady that involved Zac Effron and what I know is going to be a terrible film. For my part I had to watch Twilight. I really tried. I watch some awful cinema on a regular basis. I saw all three Sharknados and will gladly sit through a fourth. Twilight is not even close to their level.

Here is the key difference. Sharknado knows what it is. Sharknado plays upon the campy nature of the film to create some built in expectations it can later riff off of. Twilight thinks of itself as a serious teen romance flick–with glowing freaking vampires. Moreover, these things are not vamps. Instead they are the twisted imaginings of someone who knows the general (religiously watered down) idea of vampires and decided to build on that in a way that makes them unrecognizable. This is not Justin Cronin’s Vampire nor is it even Count freakin Chockula. No, this is a poorly constructed representation of a false perception built on a bed of lies and misdirection. Twilight is crap.

 

I figured I better write a few things down before I lose myself at the bottom of a bag of chips. Yeah, that is happening. Some days you just gotta stress eat. What stresses me out the most as of late is the peculiar disconnect I see happening between nearly everyone in my line of sight and reality.

It isn’t even about the same stuff.

Perhaps that is the real revelation. We all have stuff that we actively decide not to be real about. For example, when I go to the basketball practices I can watch the excitement coming off in waves from the coaches. I love the competitiveness and recognize it in myself as a coach, but every so often I take a step back and don’t coach–don’t get locked into that myopia of competition and practice. When I look up, I realize that these are kids playing rec ball. I think every coach ought to do that–ought to evaluate their goals and roles here. I mean, geez. Yesterday the coaches had my kids pushing a truck at the workout.

Meanwhile today I had the most peculiar interaction with the neighbor kid. This neighbor is one who recently married and the new lady isn’t very social. He wasn’t social to begin with–at least towards me, so adding her into the mix is like putting an eraser over the word ‘opportunity’. They didn’t exactly come a knocking today but we had a moment where the kid got out of the family truck, so me and my littlest talislegger tossing around a football and had a moment of clarity. In that moment he realized that a kid exactly his age and fun as heck lived right next door. I know this because he repeated it out loud. His mother responded by dragging him inside and shutting the garage door. Such is life.

Some Thoughts:

1. There is one other dude on the facebook with my exact name. He lives in Indonesia, which is weird because neither my first nor last name is particularly indonesian and he is very indonesian. On the other hand, he appears to be muslim, which would explain the shared first name to some degree but the rest is so very random. So, what’s up, man?
2. Finally watched the last episode of flash. Just odd. What makes the show so difficult for me is that it is a form of soft sci-fi but masquerades as hard science, especially in terms of the time stream. But when you look closer it falls apart, becoming little more than made up terms and unanswered questions. I’m getting frustrated.
3. Haven’t had my boys for a week and the first day back they are so solidly amped and competing for private moments that the whole thing ended in disaster.
4. Lost track of my dieting and the body has quickly returned to the fat quadrant.
5. Been sleeping on the couch for a few nights while waiting for a much needed AC repair. My neck is jacked up beyond recognition.

Here’s the thing. I truly believe that people, deep down inside, are about self-fulfillment. I am convinced that in a simpler age self fulfillment was much easier. If your life consists of hunting, gathering, and the occasional sexual act your life is satisfied if you can meet those three needs. As we developed an increasingly complex world it became harder and harder to find fulfillment.

Sort of.

Perhaps now fulfillment is primarily attached to one key vector: respect. I present to you the curious case of the Arizona Del Taco Clerk:

When I stepped back to think about what was really going on here, I saw one key thing: Both sides of the conflict wanted respect. Obviously the guy at the window felt affronted and entitled and definitely felt like he deserved the respect of the customer. Meanwhile the customers were literally trying to get this guy fired because they felt disrespected. This conflict can be mapped on to any existing disagreement and have the same stakes. Both sides want respect and always have a different idea of what respect looks like and how to receive it.

Was the guy a jerk? Yeah, sure, but aren’t the customers doing the same thing by creating and continuing to maintain the situation? In truth, the store had the right to refuse service and the manager could have leaned on the tactic of calling the cops to force these guys out–thus forcing them to respect his will in some fashion.

I’m really tired of people trying to destroy each other. If we want respect we ought to try a new approach to this time we all share on the planet. We ought to work together to find a way to make the world a better place and not try to push someone down in the midsts of what was clearly a bad day. I don’t know the dude. He might be an asshole. Still doesn’t make it right to ruin him.

I cannot speak to the quality of tonight’s post as I write it at the end of a rather exhaustive turn of days and under the worst of desert circumstances. To begin, I spent the weekend at comicon walking around and really enjoying the presentation of people and panels and general fun. The event was wonderful and taxed me in a pleasant manner but taxed me nonetheless. There was a rather difficult moment this sunday when I discovered my pass had disappeared. I had to buy a new one to get into the event this very Sunday in a moment of what my eldest referred to as Karma. I don’t think I did anything so terrible as to deserve losing the pass, but if I did I was reminded of it when I returned home to discover my air conditioner had gone out. The way these things work here is that you are afforded one unit for each level of your home. I have two levels and thus two machines. The upstairs went out and my upstairs is at the moment 91 degrees Fahrenheit.  It is far from bearable, which is why it is so wonderful to have a downstairs. Lets hope that doesn’t go out before the night is through.

Karma indeed.

I don’t quite view the term in this particular way, but I do believe in a sense of balance. Good and bad float in opposition, so if so much bad befalls me I ought to be ripe for some good. Ought to be ripe for it indeed, yet instead I find myself tested in so many ways and have come to believe that good and bad, if they do float in diametric opposition fail to do so over the life of a single individual. Some folks just have all the look while others experience wellsprings of pain with no opposite number. I’m exaggerating here to a certain extent but there is a kernel of truth and disappointment that guides the words.

I recognize how cliche it is for me to sit here and write about the profound impact Ali had on my life now at the time of his death. I don’t care. Ali was the champ for many reasons and the greatest boxer of all time. He was an athlete at a time when black people didn’t have the ability to have many public heroes. He was our hero as a race yet he belonged to the world. He belonged to the Muslim religion and never once tried to destroy us as a nation, though there was a time when the government tried to make it seem that way. But Ali just floated right past all that and kept stinging his opponents and making it all look so easy. Ali was our hero and mine.

I came to know about Ali in the time of Tyson. Five years after Ali’s career ended at the hands of Trevor Berbick, a twenty year old Tyson would step into the ring with Berbick and offer some sweet revenge. Tyson, a student of boxing was aware of what he did and remains so to this day. He looked up to Ali. We all did. We learned about being stand up men and not backing away from what is difficult or what is unaccepted. I learned about pride and working hard to get where I want to be.

We all honor Ali by what we do in our lives. That, or we disrespect the world and opportunity he left for us.

I’m trying to get a read on what different people define as hard or soft re: science fiction. For me the term defines not only the relevance of the science to the story but the technical complexities of the science involved. For example: Star Wars is soft science fiction. The science isn’t really a part of the story, which is why the story is often confused with fantasy. The Martian is hard science. Both stories are character driven, which apparently is seen as lacking in sci-fi.

This dichotomy of sorts extends to television where more often than not the soft science does much better than the hard. In other words, when you watch The Walking Dead you don’t think about the science fiction aspects therein. On the other hand, Orphan Black puts the science in your face.

I’m interested in both sides of line. I’m interested in telling the stories that put the science to the test as a social element, as well as the stories that use it as a backdrop.

Comicon is back in Phoenix. After a year of not being around ‘my people’ there is this sea of souls powered by the idea of wonder and essence of cool. Not all of them, of course. If there was a drinking game that forced a drink for every Deadpool or Harley Quinn costume I saw I would’ve been drunk by 12:06. On the other hand, it felt incredible to be in a space where so many people cared about many of the same things I do.

There was a panel on military fiction that spanned the ages between B. Cornwell’s wars and the wars yet to come. The writers spoke true about the idea of war and what draws us to it both as writers and fans. I think it is much like what Joe Hill says about fire. I’m paraphrasing here, but he says we are drawn to the destructive beauty of fire but turn away from people experiencing personal pain. It is like that in war reading as well, though not always. I was surprised, even in this day and age, to see to female writers on that particular panel.

I was not surprised to see people I knew at the con, but I was somewhat surprised at how few. I encountered six souls known to be and I was only tangentially (and at one point legally) related to two. There will be more of that and more of the fine writing and panels and beautiful art and cosplay and energy and passion and all of the things that I wait to enjoy year after year in places and gatherings like comicon con and the grandpa of them all, Gencon.

I want to go back to gencon. I want to sit on a panel and speak and share and be merry and be a part of that wonderful community of writers, thinkers, artists, and fans. Tomorrow, I just want to go back to comicon and be happy amongst the flock.

Some Thoughts:

1. Had a chance to glimpse game 1 of the finals. I believe I watched just long enough for the Cavs to suck.

 

 

The most exciting and terrifying time as a writer is when you are between projects. There is the promise of work yet to be imagined and the satisfaction of completion. I’m in that blissful middle ground as we speak, deciding where I will go next. Wherever it is, whatever my creative brain unveils, I know the key will be to develop my voice in a way that makes me happy. I’m learning more about my influences and writing roots each day. I recognize that King continues to be a major influence as far as voice goes. R.A. Salvatore is another. These are two of the greats I read all the time growing up. Nowadays my time is spent reading and listening to a plethora of great authors. I’m listening to Joe Hill’s The Fireman with Cronin’s epic vampire work cued up next.

Brandon Sanderson’s Elantris is next up in the physical book reading world. It is about time I figured out what all the hype is about. Maybe its real.

Some Thoughts:

1. I realize now that junk food no longer works for me. It is too many calories at once and to difficult for my body to digest. I end up getting exhausted just trying to eat it.
2. Been having a really good time developing a minecraft world. Crafting is a great creative outlet so different from normal ‘must win’ video gaming that I can do it casually and not worry too much about devoting my entire day to it… until I do devote the entire day and wonder how the heck that happened.