Crazy Time

It's been a bit of a crazy year, in good and unexpected ways. The unfortunate downside is that my online maintenance has fallen by the wayside and this blog had virtually disappeared from my to-do list.  Time for a well-deserved update.  But after eight months or so, how do you climb back on the horse in a sensible way?  Does it even matter, in our attention-fractured society, if there's any continuity? Best to just plunge back into the bloggy waters...

I've found a weird thing happening over the past few months -- work breeds work.

The more projects you have going, the more people you come in contact with, the more opportunities you are presented with. I've been unexpectedly busy the last six months, partially because of this kind of chain of events.  Also, the importance of networking and network maintenance, as in my earlier postings, comes into play. One of the projects currently the most active is one with a friend from film school.  It's been a long time since those days, but because this guy's part of my network, when a project in my wheelhouse came up, I was on his go-to list. Now we're on the brink of shooting a TV Pilot.  More on that later as it develops.

Ride the wave.  When the crazy time strikes, be happy you've got too much work.

The Human Network

Occasionally I'm asked to speak on writing or entertainment industry issues and during the course of those events, especially with young writers, I get asked certain questions with some regularity.  This past week, the question was, "how do you develop your network?"  The answer to that question has many components, too many to cover in a brief blog post, but subsequent events in the week highlighted one particular thing not to do when developing or maintaining your human network.

Don't waste people's time.

When you ask a fellow writer to read your material, you're asking for a commitment of their time, their experience, and their critical acumen.  You're also asking them to devote their own limited creative energies on your behalf.  Before you decide to call in that favor, ask yourself: why do I want this person's opinion?  If you're looking for a rubber-stamp, "hey, this is wonderful," send the work to your mom.  I assume if you send it to me, you want an actual, critical evaluation and that you're somehow looking to improve your work.  I treat those requests with a professional's eye and try to be as honest as I can.  That type of professional evaluation bundles together my decades of experience, my attention to detail, and a significant amount of mental effort.  If, when you make the request, you have absolutely no intention of listening to anyone's opinion other than your own, then you have wasted my time.

In that case, you have self-selected yourself out of my network.  You will not be on my go-to e-mail list for job opportunities or future connections.  Your name will not come up in cocktail chit-chat as "someone worth knowing".  Your e-mails will no longer be acknowledged.

Networks are fragile.  Respect the value of a professional's time.

The Bi-polar Nature of Writing

Apologies to the mental health community for co-opting the term for a clearly-defined condition in service to a loose analogy; no harm or slight intended and in no way am I trying to minimize what people with bi-polar disorder suffer.  It's just the way my own brain is working this morning and certainly I'm not original in pointing out the similarities between the impulse to write and mental disorders in general.  But I got to thinking...

Writing requires two particular and somewhat conflicting abilities.

First, the need to submerge yourself in the waves of culture and humanity -- not just the books, magazines, comics, films, tv, and music that media presents, but general contact with other humans sharing communal experiences.  Time with friends, family, colleagues.  Eating, drinking, discussing.  Sharing opinions and thoughts, hopes and desires, annoyances and pet peeves.  For any writer, living a life fully and richly provides the context for your work.  It's research, in a way.  You absorb experiences you can then use and modify to tell the stories that mean the most to you.

But, and let's face it, there's always a "but."

Writing also requires the ability to totally disengage from those necessary and valid connections to actually, well, do the writing.  When you're actually at the keyboard, you need to be able to focus on that project, immerse yourself in that world, and not be pulled aside by the scrolling of the twitter feed or the pings of Facebook updates.  It requires a force of will not to constantly worry about "maintaining your brand" on social networks and actually generate content.  It's difficult in our world of constant connectivity to focus on one thing at a time and that's one reason why writer's retreats are popular destinations.

It requires the ability to turn down invitations from friends, to eschew the very things you love, like reading and watching tv, in order to create something.  The creative impulse isn't an easy one to obey and you should never underestimate the toll it demands.  However, producing something brings other rewards, sometimes monetary, sometimes simple satisfaction, so you have to find the balance.

It's a constant tightrope walk between artistic engagement and having a fulfilling life.  It's possible to navigate, with constant work and maintenance, but don't minimize -- or allow others to dismiss -- the effort required.

5 Observations From Summer Concerts

1. To the drunk couple singing all the lyrics meaningfully into each other's eyes: no one came to see you sing and it's really not going to relight the sputtering spark in your sex life.

2. To the guy 10 feet from stage center: you're pretty cut to be able to hold your girlfriend on your shoulders that long, but everyone behind you came to see the band, not your girlfriend's ass.  It's a one-song limit on the shoulder-elevator, pal.

3. To bands that encourage unison, over-the-head audience hand-clapping: toss out some free deodorant with that.  Pit-sweat is the only thing stronger-smelling than weed.

4. To the weed-smokers: up your game.  I don't mind smelling your puff, but I do hate when it smells like a skunk's ass.  Shell out for more than stems and seeds, bud.  Get it?  Bud.

5. To the venue operators: $11 for light beer? Blow me.

Food Multitasking

Because of the recent hellish heat in the Philadelphia metro area, I've made the switch to my summer cooking style -- eating in restaurants.  Well, that's a slight joke, but our take-out consumption dramatically increases along with the temps and my oven gets little gas between mid-june and mid-september.  It is with great reluctance that I heat the kettle to feed the french press demon coffee maker. I only do it in the early mornings when the sun hasn't quite turned everything to burning plasma.

However, adaptation is survival, so I've developed some other hot-weather cooking skills.  There are very few things that I haven't tried to grill over the years and I'll make most anything in my Weber Kettle.  Also, I'll make dishes that can be served cold later in the day and do any prep-cooking early in the morning when it's still cool.  Which brings us to today's planned meal -- salade nicoise from the current issue of Saveur.  I think this will be really refreshing come 6:00 PM, with the temp solidly in the 90s.  That means, however, there are a bunch of things to cook this morning -- potatoes, beets, green beans.

The perfect part of the "cooking in the morning" thing is the multitasking aspect of it.

I can throw a couple of pots on the stove and check in as needed, but none of this is labor-intensive, so I can go back and forth with the food prep and writing. "What?!!" you say.  You aren't sitting at the computer, staring at the screen the whole time, sweating blood and dreams onto the keys?  Well, um, no.  My writing process involves a lot of walking around.  I can't stay sitting for too long and when the flow seems too slow, I walk around, fiddle with stuff.  That's why the cooking is good, 'cause I have something to check on when I'm pacing, and I don't get too distracted.

So, right now, I've got two pots on the stove to boil/blanch things, music streaming to a bluetooth speaker, and I'm off-and-on cleaning veggies.  The music is coming from my laptop in my summer home office -- my dining room table.  On the monitor, I've got this blog, the Soulwalker script draft, and the novel draft open on the desktop, as well as all the other usual internet distractions.  When a good thought comes, I type it up, then head back to check on the food.

If it's a good writing day, the food will be done before the writing, so then I need another distraction and I can focus on cocktail prep. I'm going to haul out the juicer to make fresh orange/lime juice for desert sunset cocktails to serve before the salad.  Booze, food, music, and writing.  That's my idea of multitasking.

The Thing With Prometheus...

People always ask me about films.

This, despite knowing that part of my academic job is learning and teaching how to rip films apart.  Not necessarily in a negative way, but in a critical way that examines how the films are put together.  This is a core component of know how to make a film.  Also, people ask me what I think about films even knowing what a cynical bastard I am.

So, you know, if you ask me about a film, fair warning: I'll tell you what I think.  Perhaps I overthink it, but you asked.  If you'd rather not have an actual answer, then just asked whether I liked a film, don't ask me what I think about a film.  See, I spend the head time that most people devote to Roth IRAs, stocks, and performance reviews considering movies, so you're going to often get a detailed answer if you ask.

Prometheus is a case in point.  LOTS of people asked me about Prometheus and I kind of dodged an answer because frankly, I don't want to spoil your enjoyment of the film.  However, a bunch of people know my admiration for the original Alien, my fondness for Sci-Fi in general, and my peripatetic admiration for Ridley Scott.  So, they asked.

Let me first say, there is much that is wonderful about this film: the beautiful visual extravagance of the opening 3D images and the imagining of the alabaster aliens in general was stunning, there were some wonderful performances from Charlize Theron and Michael Fassbender, and the sheer optimism that we will ever be able to build a ship that can travel like Prometheus was refreshing.

It is however, despite all talk of sequels, a disappointing story.

People have argued with me over this, but I bet I can ask you five questions about Prometheus that will change your view of the film.  If you don't want your view changed, then stop reading now.

1. What kind of "doctor" is Elizabeth Shaw?  Many are tempted to say archeologist, but at various points in the film she discourses on astrophysics, medicine, biology, sociology and more.  The real answer to this question is that she's a doctor of exposition -- a convenient mouthpiece to explain whatever plot point needs explaining at a given moment.

2. If you have hovering, wireless, 3d mapping robots, why wouldn't you toss those into the big, dark, dangerous alien ship BEFORE you actually go in yourself?  It may be the future, but apparently no one has ever played a video game.

3. Why are the archeologists forever rushing blindly into new discoveries without any remote hint of site protocol?  Moreover, why are the touching everything, including the moving black goo?

4. I can't imagine ever designing my own trillion-dollar spaceship, but even if you were, would you think it smart to make your quarters look like a spa?  I get the Weyland's are rich, but why must they be stupid as well?

5. Does anyone really believe you can give yourself an auto-surgical cesarian, then just hop up off the table and run around like an action hero?  Talk to a woman who's actually had a c-section, or do some basic anatomical research: cut the abs and you're doing no moving for a while.  Drugs strong enough to kill the pain will also knock you out.  I honestly thought this was going to be a dream sequence it was so outrageous and, when it wasn't, I couldn't seriously stay engaged in the movie.

These are really only the top of the heap.  I could keep asking these questions on and on and that, to me, is the sign of a flawed film.

Now, you asked me what I thought, so what I really think is I'm really no longer too excited about the rumored BaldeRunner sequel.

Hunkering Down

As hurricane Irene lumbers its way towards landfall on the US Eastern seaboard, it seems the news media has created its own perfect storm event.  The media, in all their glory, likes nothing better than an impending disaster.  At this point, they can indulge in all the "worst case scenario" hypothetical animations they want, with none of the actual damage having taken place.  All the shrill fear-mongering, with none of the price of actual damage and bodies.  These major storm events are a bonanza for the news/entertainment industry, because, if everything goes as they predict, they get to double-dip: they have material to report now, in the run-up, but they can also report on the disaster -- should it happen -- for a good long time.

All the screenwriters out there should also take note of the coverage, because one of the keys to making all thins non-stop storm coverage work is the ability to track the storm in real time and give you "landfall" estimates.  That's what we call a ticking clock, and every media outlet makes use of them in this type of event, despite the notorious inaccuracy of meteorologic forecasting.  That ticking clock gives you a built-in window, a race against time to get prepared for the storm.  That creates tension and makes for good viewing.

I know this sounds cynical, but...

I caught a rumor on the net this morning that the township adjacent to mine is recommending residents re-locate during the storm.  That seems more like panic to me than prudent storm preparedness.  In our Philadelphia Western Suburbs, we're a good 40-50 miles from the coast, it's unlikely that the storm will be hurricane strength by the time it gets here, and it's 36 hours away (at least).  This kind of hysteria is generated by a 24/7 media looking to fill the endless hours of broadcasting, and a public with unlimited access to information feeds that do little more than churn the same statistics for hours on end.  As imminent as the threat is, there's been plenty of warning, and the storm is only moving at 14 MPH.  We know it's coming and events aren't developing that quickly.

Now, pay attention here: I AM NOT advocating you don't evacuate when you're told to, nor am I saying you shouldn't take the storm threat seriously.  You may, however, want to take the media a little less seriously.

Stumbling Around

In my recent internet ramblings, my metaphorical hikes through the electronic woods, I came across some blogs with little nuggets of help for writers and artists.  In lieu of any actual thinking of my own, I pass them along to you:

How To Steal Like An Artist serves up a refreshing insight on inspiration and creativity.

Best Blogs For Aspiring Writers is just a list, but a good starting point to poke around for what you need.

Lester Dent's Master Plot is the famous pulp wordsmith's breakdown of how to create a story.

Of course, the best advice -- the advice most frequently ignored -- is to keep writing, always.