In Which I Am in Mid-Learning Experience

I have recently (and most gratefully) taken on duties as a submissions editor and proof reader for a small press. It's not the best paying gig I've ever had, but it is incredibly rich in learning opportunities. There's nothing quite like seeing the submitted-for-publication work of others to give one a new view on one's own writing. Sometimes I wonder if I will ever write again. If I do, I think this will change my writing forever.

Thus, I have to share with you what I'm learning.

1) Proof your query letter even more carefully than your manuscript. It is the first impression, the start of your job interview. Even a tiny error there is the equivalent of spinach between your front teeth AND a zit on your nose. Misuse a word, and you've audibly farted.

2) Do your damnedest to remove any passive verbs from your first paragraph. Under no circumstances allow one in your first sentence. For the second and third paragraphs, depending on length, allow no more than two each. From then on, use them like you're on a limited budget -- spend them only where you have to, save them when you don't. Passive verbs are a thick, gooey glaze over your story, a heavy curtain on the action, a great distance between the reader and the characters.

3) Don't allow the rule about budgeting passive verbs to make you ridicule your active ones. Truth is, some things just ARE, and you should let them BE. It's tricky, but essential. If you must, go through and underline all your To Be form verbs in red. Then think about them.

4) Have someone who does not love you -- maybe someone who doesn't even like you much -- read your manuscript. View it as dental work, necessarily painful. You don't have to listen to everything they say, but you should give it all due consideration. Get your ego as far out of the way as you can manage while you are doing it. Every time your ego winces, make the change and see how it looks.

5) READ BIG HUNKS OF THE MANUSCRIPT OUT LOUD. Either record yourself or have someone else listen. If it sounds arch, stilted, awkward, confusing, or silly out loud, it reads that way, too.

6) No substitute exists for knowing and using the basics of punctuation and grammar. Your talent will NOT shine through your ignorance.

7) Go back and read the bit about passive verbs. I'm completely serious about that.

8) If you, the author, have to tell me how a character is feeling or thinking, you have failed. FAILED. Get out of the way and let the CHARACTER SHOW ME.

Ok, that's enough for now. I ponder seriously how many of these sins I have committed in my own writing. Perhaps this editing work is penance. If it is, I ask forgiveness and I will go forth to sin no more. Next time I am ready to submit something, I will reread this list.

Old Movie Love

Found myself in the position of explaining to someone why I liked Casablanca so much, and why so many people think it's a classic. I kind of liked my answer, so I thought I'd post it here.

It's kind of true about liking anything that isn't familiar, that comes from a different era or culture or even point of view. They aren't comfortable -- we don't understand what things mean or why they are or aren't important.

I've have a few friends who are much younger than I am (between 18 and 20 years difference) who have been exploring my classic movie collection with me. I've hooked a couple into the whole classic movie thing, but it took some work -- a lot of things about these movies are based on the times in which they were made. I know and like them because I'm interested in history, especially from a cultural perspective. So, I look things up. I do a little research because it interests me -- it's not an obsession, but I like knowing. I watch classic movies over and over. I was able to share what I knew with my friends and explain things that they didn't get. We even watching a couple of documentaries about the censorship and the Hayes code that controlled movies until the 1960s, which made a LOT of things more clear to them -- those old movies didn't have the freedom to just SHOW things that we now take for granted. It all had to be hidden and coded, and the audience had to know the code to understand what was really going on.

Casablanca is certainly one of my favorites, but I didn't really like it until I learned more about the time in which is was made. When I was in my late teens and saw it, it was just some hokey black and white movie.

What makes it a great movie to me now isn't one or two elements, but how everything comes together -- like how different flavors in a meal come together as opposed to just one or two that really stand out. If you take Casablanca apart, it really doesn't look like much at all -- a romantic thriller set in World War II. It seems like such a cliche now because it's so much a part of our culture -- it's been homaged and referenced and parodied to pieces. But that's the point -- all that stuff exists BECAUSE the movie exists. Before Casablanca, we didn't have those classic lines or images.

We tend to accept contemporary films because we already know much of what shapes and forms them -- we know the tropes, the cliches, the codes, the in-jokes and references. 60 years from now, those movies will be just as awkward and unfamiliar to new audiences as the films of 60 years ago are today.

Let me try to tell you about the movie and why it has classic status -- in my very unofficial opinion. If you really want to know more, try checking the Wikipedia article on it. I don't say that it will make you like the movie, but it might give you more to use to 'get' it.

Ok -- what I see in Casablanca. The world is falling into the biggest war ever. People are fleeing Europe any way they can, and many of them have to come to Casablanca, a desert oasis, a place on the edge of the storm, to try to escape (If you know anything about WWII, you might know that the US did not take all refugees who tried to enter it. Some of the stories are horrific.)

Then you have Rick and his place in Casablanca. Here's a man who wants to be neutral. He doesn't want anything to do with the world and he wants the world to leave him alone. He doesn't care and he demonstrates this pretty plainly -- how he treats his current girlfriend, how he lets the police drag away and kill Ugarte and how he pockets those letters of transit -- doesn't bat an eye. But he has people around him who are loyal to him, so maybe he's not a complete asshole. So he's complicated and interesting. He knows there's a storm and people in huge, life threatening trouble, but he says he doesn't care. He's a character with conflicts and that makes him interesting.

Then, a woman shows up who blows holes in his wall of cool. She's running from the storm of war with her husband, who is an important leader against the Nazis and is thus hunted by them. Victor Lazlo is a Typical Hero, and it's a matter of importance in the movie that he survives, but he's obviously in danger and needs to escape. That's more or less cliche and not that interesting. But, his wife, Ilsa, isn't the typical Love Interest. She obviously has a past with Rick, and Rick is bitter about it, Why? She's also obviously loyal to her husband and yet still in love with Rick. Why? More conflict.

Then we have Renault, the local Captain of Police, a rather weasely fellow with loyalties only to himself. He's willing to work for the Nazis because that's what will serve him at the moment. He's unpredictable and he provides a fair bit of wry comic relief. We don't know what he will do in any situation except that we are pretty sure he will do what will be best for himself.

Major Strasser as the Nazi commander is a pretty simple bad guy, but he provides the "push" for everyone else. He represents all the danger of the world war, that swirling storm driving everyone out of Europe.

So all these people are set up in this volatile situation. We've got a lot of questions and contradictions going on, and that makes the story. These people have different goals and the goals conflict. I get involved with how these threads untangle and resolve -- learning why Rick is bitter, why Ilsa is conflicted, and watching how these characters change through the movie. Rick regains his idealism and hope to care about the world again. Renault finds something to value outside of himself. Ilsa serves as a catalyst for Rick and a pivot point for the story.

Ok, that's all kind of meta. What I really love about this movie is the dialog -- the lines that sum up so much in a few words. I love especially the role music has in the movie, how we get to see it as a conveyance for memory. Then there's the black and white film itself. Black and white film isn't just a lack of color. It is an art form in itself, so much so that modern directors go back to it still. When there is no color, light is more important, and so is shadow. It means much more. Really, look at how the scene where Ilsa and Rick reunite, how the light falls on her. The shadows are sometimes helpful places of concealment, or soft and warm, and other times they are threatening and dangerous.

This movie is a classic because of all those references I talked about before, too. Dozens of movies harken back to the image of Rick and Ilsa saying goodbye at the airfield. You don't even need to have seen the movie -- if you see a scene with a guy in a fedora and trench coat, and a woman in a coat standing in the fog with a plane nearby, tears on the woman's cheeks and him saying "Here's looking at you, kid", you already know everything that's going on. When you hear the line "I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship", you already know there's a uniting of previously incompatible or even opposing forces going on. (check the list of quotes here). Even the misquote of "Play it again, Sam" -- which wasn't in the movie but is associated with it -- is used so often it's a cliche.

That's what makes it "classic" -- that images and words are just part of our culture. We may not even know where they come from, but we already know what they mean because we've seen them so often.

Let me give you a more modern example. You've probably seen both the first Matrix movie and, for example, Shrek. That "Bullet time" scene was quoted -- in parody -- in Shrek as well as a dozen other movies and TV shows. It's short hand -- we know just from a couple of seconds of "Bullet time" that a character is about to deliver major ass-whupping. We don't even have to see the whole fight to know what will happen. I expect it may stay in our cultural lexicon and become another piece of short hand.

Casablanca is full of that kind of shorthand reference. That's one of the things that makes it a classic.

Ruminations on Fame (of which I have none, so I'm speculating)

The nature of celebrity and fame is a curious thing when I think about it. Imagine -- hundreds, even thousands of people feel a connection to one person. They think about the celebrity. They watch whatever the celebrity does. They read about him/her, listen to him/her sing or talk, buy images on t-shirts, or purchase action figures. They go places just to see the celebrity, maybe get a picture or shake a hand. That's a lot of mental and emotional energy directed toward one person.

Now, think of the person getting all that attention. Even a very grounded, very practical person is going to find him or herself changing in reaction to it. First, he or she (I'm defaulting to he now, for shortness) is outnumbered considerably. How can one person possibly respond sufficiently to so many others? It has to be some kind of high to be getting all that attention, of course, and perhaps the celebrity really wants to give something back to show appreciation and gratitude. But it's not physically possible. Even if the celebrity's energy is boundless, his time is not. The more people who admire the celebrity, the less chance he has of giving anything back individually. And how can a celebrity give even a small portion back and have anything left for those people he lives and works with every day?

Consider also those people -- a small number, but worth considering -- who don't think about this equation and who have developed their relationship to a level where they feel justified in asking the celebrity for more return. I'm not necessarily talking about stalkers and scary psychos, but mostly normal people who forget boundaries and become angry and indignant when their favorites don't answer letters, pause to talk to them, pose for pictures, etc. Even if they don't actually threaten the celebrity, they can impede him or cause unpleasant (energy draining) scenes. So, celebrities often have people around them to provide a buffer layer -- to maintain a safe and necessary distance.

The Internet, I think, blurrs up the boundaries more than the old fan magazines, TV interview shows, or personal appearances ever did. It allows celebrities to have more contact with fans while still providing a buffer layer. It also creates an illusion of intimacy that muddles up the boundaries even more. I find watching these interactions extremely interesting.

In my own interactions with celebrities -- I've met a few of greater or lesser levels of fame, but they were all people about who'd I'd spent time thinking -- I've always been conscious of those boundaries, sometimes to the point of being reluctant to take advantage of an opportunity. Any time I get a bit of attention from one of these people, it delights me, because I have that equation in mind. It takes very little -- recently, on Twitter, Brent Spiner retweeted and responded to something I'd said. It took him perhaps 10 seconds to do it, but to me it was enormous. Not out of proportion -- I don't imagine us being life long friends or anything -- but still, it was a small return on all the hours I'd spent in admiration.

Obviously, this is a far more complex subject that goes beyond just these ideas. This is just how I think about it, and how I deal with the strange equation, and even how I regard those folks who are celebrities TO ME (in that I think about them and admire them, but they have little or no idea who the hell I am). Perspective and balance is what it takes.

In Which I Try Not To Scare Away The Muse

The last 18 or so months have been full of change (understatement). Part of that change was losing track of my writing and finding myself unable to write. Thinking I couldn't write anymore scared me a lot, which naturally made trying to write even harder. All those other changed in my life have left me sensitive to the usual clawing doubts about my writing, my talent, even my worth and purpose in existing. I work on it daily.

So, chapters 21 and 22 are finished. This story -- and I repeat again, I never intended to write this particular story, I am not sure why I am writing it, but damnitall I'm going to finish it -- crossed the 100,000 word mark and is, I'm certain, a good 10,000 words from the end point. Right now, I'm not absolutely certain what that end point will be, despite strong suspicions. My main character has shown remarkable stubbornness in clinging to to personal blocks, fears, and behaviors already demonstrated in the story not to be useful. I've had to be clever in getting around all those to push things forward. I've done a lot of 'backstory' creation, a lot of daydreaming through scenes, and a lot of just staring. For all those 100,000 words on the page, there are easily 5000 more words that will never be seen in my notes and journals. It's the not knowing that pulls me on to finish. Also, it helps to be a little in love with the characters, and it helps to be writing something with a dictated structure -- that is, the nature of the story requires a particular kind of ending, and oh BOY am I glad of that.

I am facing the facts that, at its heart and fingertips, Temporary Position is a romance novel -- contemporary, a bit kinky, and not conventional, but still a romance novel. It's a fantasy, and it must have a happy ending, although the happy ending is likely to be a little problematic in and of itself. I wrestle with that, too. I worry about it. I find myself torn between the story I want to write and what I imagine an editor demanding I change in order to publish.

That imaginary editor is the one who gets in the way of the writing, which is why my writing is so slow these days. I'm doing my best to evict a whole editorial Board of Directors from my head because, damn, those bitches are bossy! I can't write a word without it going through the Committee on Verb Approval, and the Committee on Sentence Structure, and the Committee on Will This Sell? Everyone has a suggestion. Everyone wants in on my supply connections before I have a chance to do any work. It's a QA system gone wild, and the incoming inspection crew won't let anything in without three signatures, a special stamp, and approval from the president.

Some days, all that happens is I walk away from the keyboard to do something really exciting, like take out the trash or clean cat boxes or even match socks, because those are things I can do without any instant critique from the interior mob.

Today, however, I plan to start on Chapter 23, do an assignment for the Fiction Writing class I'm taking, and a buttload of critiques I really don't want to do. I plan to write.

Oh, and clean cat boxes, because, well, the cats insist, and they do run things around here.

In Which I Get Extra Mileage From a Review

I’ve watched a bit of pornography in my time, oh yes I have. I don’t expect a lot from porn movies – their purpose is specific and if they cause arousal, they’ve done their job. Sometimes a porn movie can be unintentionally funny – I have one or two of those, movies from the 80s that went off the ridiculous deep end and are good for a laugh (if nothing else). I’ve fast forwarded through sex scenes just because high speed sex is giggle inducing, and if you aren’t getting hot, getting a laugh is second best. I’ve laughed at self conscious acting, at bizarre special effects, and especially at sock-puppet dialog. There are rules for watching porn – don’t look for snappy or thoughtful dialog, and don’t expect a plot. You’re there to watch the sex.

Never before have I watched a porn flick where I fast forwarded through the sex scenes because THEY GOT IN THE WAY OF THE PLOT!

Yes. I said “plot”. I know, “porn” and “plot”, despite alliteration, are not generally compatible words. But SpaceNuts by Wicked Pictures (NWS link) has a plot. It’s a reasonably good parody of the science fiction movie genre, with the most ribbing given to Star Wars (although any good geek can catch references to many other movies -- not all, I suspect, intended by the writer/director.) It’s not quite Mel Brookes (and, of course, the title Space Balls was already taken), but it’ll do. I won’t spoil a thing by telling you the skinny plot -- you have your basic Princess of a planet with her android manservant running from the Evil Overlord and henchwoman, Dark Witch. Said Princess takes refuge with a space faring scoundrel/hero, gets captured, gets rescued, gets captured again, gets rescued again, and it all ends with the Princess and the Hero getting it on, and the Evil Overlord being bitched out by Dark Witch in a life pod hurtling through space. We’ve seen it before.

A.B. and I picked it up because a good review made it sound unusual and above average. We speculated they might do something interesting with aliens or take advantage of the whole science fiction oeuvre to experiment. Plus, it was supposed to have good production values. So, we settled down for an evening of porn and play.

Instead, we started watching the movie.

The first sex scene – Princess Hubba Hubba, she of the incredibly inflated boobs, and some random wooden faced dick-on-a-body performed the first of what would turn out to be a series of almost identically-scripted sex scenes. Chemistry between the actors was nil. We skipped to the next scene, where the android, Jeeves, is hitting on a new robot in town -- a small R2D2-ish machine. Mercifully, we only see the before and after of that one. This would be the pattern for the whole movie – skip the sex, get to the story! It was almost as if someone took a for-fun movie and spliced vapid sex scenes in.

As actors and actresses go, this group wasn’t bad. At least medium pretty, male and female, and the leads delivered their lines effectively, with barely a stumble or a drop from character. The girls tended toward silicon perfection, with shaved or waxed pubes and breasts too large to be that perky (one woman was painted blue. ENTIRELY blue. Yikes!). Body makeup helped because no one had butt pimples. The guys ran toward porn standard – big dicks, reasonable pecks (or they never took their shirts off) and a lot of tattooing. A few minor roles would have been better as nonspeaking, and they missed some golden opportunities to play off the actors’ natural failings. One gay bear-with-a-feather-boa joke with the android, pretty week. The hero made me think of a mix between Kurt Russell and Huey Lewis.

Plastic coated Jeeves had a good 1/3 of all memorable lines in the film. Dominatrix Bitch on Rockets, Dark Witch, got the majority of the snark and nastiness, and she played it well. The wart faced Evil Overlord, a weak-minded, ineffectual whiner, weaseled and cooed his way through his role for excellent effect (we are spared ever seeing him naked or getting any sexing up, for which I was grateful – that prosthetic mask make up would NOT have worked full body.) Princess Hubba Hubba and Buzz Starfolker (didja get the joke? So did I, long before the 30^th repetition) were lesser lights in the production, despite being the heroine and hero of the story. Buzz, curiously enough, showed a lot of reluctance to do the nasty with all the women pawing at him, and it showed every time one of them stripped him down and jumped on him.

The movie even did decent – if inexpensive – special effects. Space ships, explosions, lasers – all good. A number of rubber monster costumes for aliens roamed the set and weren’t distracting. The sets worked nicely. You could tell money and effort went into creating the settings and action for the film. It wasn’t Hollywood level by any means – more like a high end fan or student effort. Even the dialog was reasonably good and usually well delivered by the actors. Clever jokes, snappy come backs, and a few really memorable lines made the film watchable. Oh, and the Ron Jeremy cameo – priceless!

But – and this is a big but – they kept interrupting the movie to have sex scenes! None of the scenes held interest for either of us. They ran along the same lines – oral, usually female on male. Yoga/dancer fucking. Reverse Cowgirl. Something sideways and doggie style. Face shot. Variations included a f/f/m scene, missionary, and male on female oral, woman standing. Of course, everything was done for the camera and the scenes were about as sensual as clipping toe nails. Distant, cold, even disinterested – I didn’t believe the actors wanted to be there, much less be bumping uglies. Of all the scenes, only 3 actually moved the plot or characters along, and there were at least 7 sex scenes – I stopped paying attention because, really, they just got in the way. Some were downright annoying. The director apparently owns a set of cards, each with a sex act. He shuffles them and draws one a time, and that’s the order things happen. Of course, he only has about 8 cards. It is amazing how boring the sex was when it’s one cliché after another.. Seriously, we used the highest forwarding speed. The big excitement was in watching for the dialog to start up again.

As porn films go, this barely counts in my world. Naked or semi naked, with giant boobs or painted blue, covered in tattoos or wearing black lace, it was all tab A/slot B interaction, as if they learned about sex from a manual on stereo assembly. I fear mostly that young geek boys will watch this thing and think that’s how sex is done.

SpaceNuts isn’t a bad film. Really, it’s not. Cutting out most of the sex scenes and editing down the few essential ones would improve it greatly. Even unedited, I could see making a great party game – just give everyone a set of those 8 cards and have them call out which card is on screen, and the first person to identify takes a drink. As a mid level, clever comedy/parody, it’s pretty good. As a porn film, though, it’s nearly useless – all het male oriented, clichéd, and BORING. You’ll want to watch it with your remote in your hand.