Propaganda.  We’ve all seen it.  Heard it.

“Elect me and I will save the world.”

“Read my lips:  no new taxes.”

I’ve worked in many corporations.  The one thing they all do is shell out propaganda.  They hail how innocent and awesome they are.

When I turn on my computer at work, the homepage is locked to our intranet webpage.  Every day we’re bombarded by propaganda.  Sometimes I feel chained.

So it was a bit entertaining for me to read an article my company posted about why teens are angry.  They even had a doctor share some advise.  I mean, he’s got a PhD.

“I think zombies are defined by behavior and can be “explained” by many handy shortcuts: the supernatural, radiation, a virus, space visitors, secret weapons, a Harvard education…”  -Roger Ebert in reviewing The Crazies.

The doctor’s article was a magnificently crafted and well written piece of crap.  I found one crucial thing missing.  And upon teaching and mentoring kids for most of my adult life, there has become no one-size-fits-all advice, save one.

Listening.

I had a student once whose parents put him under so much pressure to do well in high school that he was on the verge of suicide.  At first I thought, “What did I do?”  But it had been a year since the end of our sessions.  So I thought back to them to see what was the root cause of such destructive behavior.

My student and I had taken a walk one day and just talked.  My approach in teaching, despite coming from a very tier-structured martial arts background, was to view any student as an equal.  I’m not a teacher.  They are not students.  We are human beings.

The subject of ivy league education came up, something his parents expected of him.  I asked him if he wanted to go.  He answered yes.  There was a lot of trepidation in his voice.  So I asked him if he was sure.  He slumped his shoulder and said he really didn’t care about going to an ivy league school.  That he was happy to just receive a normal (whatever that means) education.

I presented what I’d learned to his parents and, of course, they were upset.  Like I had opened Pandora’s Box.

A couple years later, he was on the verge of suicide.

Being loving parents, they got the best help they could afford.  Interestingly enough, the parents were instructed to relieve all pressures of any kind, which included the pressure of school, and to allow him to express himself in anyway he wanted to.

Today, I’m very glad to say he’s thriving.

We talk so much about listening when in intimate relationships.  But we rarely talk about it when it comes to raising children.

I tell parents that their children are like people (wink wink).  Treat them like people.  Ask them how they feel.  What they want? Why do they want or feel that way?  Is there anything they need?  If not, let them know you’ll be there with no judgement.  For judgement is the lock that will shut the door to their children.

Be open with them, and they’ll be open with you.

In my lessons, I let my students, no matter the age, say what they want.  Swearing included.  I do give advice, if they want, but I tell them it’s up to them to follow it.  My mentoring process changes as they change, which is why I believe there is no one-size-fits-all guide to children.

Just listen.

Onions.  They give you bad breath but adds flavor to the food we eat.  Have you ever peeled one?  Peel the rough skin and reveal a fresh moist layer.  Peel that and there’s another silky layer.  On and on.

In writing my book, I purposefully laid in layers to give it a sense of depth.  On the surface, it’s a fast-paced, action packed, page turner (damn, I’m conceited).  There’s sex.  There’s mayhem.  Want betrayal?  You got it.  Want love?  You got it.

Slice under that superficial layer and you’ll find a deeper understanding of the story.  Billowing clouds may reflect a character’s painful conflict within.  Heat from a fire reflecting off someone’s clothes may echo the character’s anger.  Wind may symbolize a character’s dominance over their lands.

In 1954 a renowned filmmaker released what’s considered one of the best films ever made:  Seven Samurai.  It’s about a Japanese farming village, constantly beseiged and pillaged by an army of bandits, recruits seven independent samurai to defend it.

Akira Kurosawa’s films have influenced great directors such as Steven Spielberg and George Lucas.  In fact, Star Wars was heavily influenced by The Hidden Fortress, a Kurosawa film.

I have to admit, when I watched Seven Samurai, I was like, “What da hell?”

I was caught off guard by the soundtrack, pacing and language (despite my slanty eyes, I don’t speak Japanese).  I did drag myself through the length of the film, all three hours and forty-five minutes.

Luckily, I had bought The Criterion Collection of the film.  There are tons of lectures on the DVD discs, and I listened to all of them, wanting to learn everything I could.  What I learned had a profound effect on me and my writing.  Or is it my writing and I?

Consolidating Kurosawa’s genius would be difficult and insulting.  But here I go.  He controlled everything because everything in his films had a purpose, a reason.  Every word, action, shadow, even the swipe or fading to the next scene meant something.  If someone broke wind, there was a purpose.  Unless it was silent but deadly.

The most interesting character is Kikuchiyo, played by Toshiro Mifune.  He doesn’t exactly look like a samurai, nor does he walk like one.  So is he a samurai?  He lugs his extra long sword on his shoulder instead of holstering it around his waist like the other six.  What does this say about Kikuchiyo?  Is he compensating for something?  Or is there a deeper story within the character?

In his dramatic scene, Kikuchiyo admits he was once a villager and somehow found his way to samuraism. (Is that even a word?)  This didn’t happen in those days of Japan.  It was difficult enough to move up the ranks of the samurai.  And admitting you were once a villager was like admitting you’re a woman, when you’re really a man, but without the operation.

The lectures in the special features stated Kikuchiyo symbolized the filmmaker, Kurosawa.  His views were somehow reminiscent of Kikuchiyo and his rise in society and that Japan had moved into the modern era.  This is further symbolized when each samurai is killed by a modern weapon:  the gun.  Once the villagers were saved, they continued their lives giving any thought to their saviors.  We see the surviving samurai walk from the cemetery where their comrades were buried and out to the horizon, never to return.

I rewatched the film many times, and I grew to love it. The story density is amazing.

It’s interesting to see how we clamor to the magazine stands to find out the latest on celebrities.  What atrocities have they committed?  But if we were truly curious about who they were, all we’d have to do is turn to their art.

For art is the language of the soul.

Run! Dammit! Run!

If you haven’t seen this movie, watch it. It mixes great world building techniques with flash backs and illustrates fantastic character development.  And the rules the main character develops to survive in a land of zombies are hilarious with a level of truth.

Robert Mckee, author of the popular book, Story, distills every story to be a quest.  Romance stories are quests for lust or love, fantasies are quests to save the helpless, thrillers are quests to solve a mystery of some sort, etc.

The main character, Columbus, played by Jesse Eisenberg is a college student who’s on a quest to find out if his parents are still alive.  Alive as in not zombies.  Honorable endeavor.

Columbus and Tallahassee run into a pair of sisters played by Emma Stone and Abigail Breslin whose sole purpose is to survive.

But Woody Harrelson plays Tallahassee.  What’s his quest?  Is it to save a damsel in distress?  No.  Is it to find the one rare cure for zombieism?  Not even close.  He loves killing them.  How about to rescue other humans from being eaten?  Ha!  Nope.  His quest is an honorable one.  Twinkies.

This brings us to the whole message of the movie.  Enjoy the little things in life.  Because in the world of zombies, (i.e. a symbol of our world:  people who work, do as they’re told, consume, watch mindless TV, and sleep only to wake up to do it again) you have no choice but to enjoy what you love.  And it’s usually the little things that matter the most.

Anthony Hopkins is an Academy Award winner. Benicio Del Toro is an Academy Award winner. Emily Blunt is a Golden Globe winner. Hugo Weaving is an AFI Award winner. Director Joe Johnson is an Academy Award winner.

When they were brought together to make The Wolfman, given the technology today, it should have been one great remake.

Somehow the story was devoured. Put in place was a lot of shock value. Hey, here’s a really fast werewolf. Ooh, captivating. A damsel in distress.  Holy cow crap, Batman!  How about some gruesome murders. Ah, can’t call it a remake without reusing blood gushing murders. How unexpected. Needed? Yes. But it wasn’t done creatively. It’s one thing to be predictable. It’s another thing to know what’ll happen at the beginning of the movie.

The special effects were not over used.  A positive.

Netflix. Man do I love Neflix. Want to get rid of your cable bill? Get Netflix. It has TV shows, movies, DVDs, Bluray, and a lot of the content can be streamed online.

As I was browsing, I’d run across Dexter. The hero is a serial killer who kills serial killers.  And he’s likable.  You’ll find yourself rooting for him. I haven’t read the novel it’s based on, but once I watched the first show, I was hooked. I don’t like horror much but watch it on occasion.

One thing Dexter has very little of is shock value. But the tension and conflict is high in each episode. And it’s not predictable. For the most part anyway. The episodic stories and the overall story of Dex was amazing. There were story lines that ran the length of the season, and, more importantly, story lines that ran the length of each episode. Amazingly, it all coalesced together nicely, fitting together like puzzle pieces.

Each character is wondefully flushed out. Each one has their own goals, strengths, and issues. The backstory for each character is spread over each episode, and the season. And the growth, or deterioation, was well done.

Then, when I found out the first season was based on the book, Darkly Dreaming Dexter by Jeff Lindsay, I was ecstatic.  Somehow, within me, I was hoping it was based on the book.  The storyline just worked so well for me.  Every plot element circled on itself, playing an essential part to the story.  Shouldn’t that be the case?  Or else why not just eliminate it since it doesn’t serve the story or plot?

But The Wolfman was missing the essential element of story.  And the plot, though obvious, tried to circle back, but it just wasn’t done well.  I wasn’t rooting for any of the characters, nor did I care for any of them.  In fact, if the damsel was the werewolf who caused the initial murders, it might have been a better movie.

Maybe Dexter should go after the Wolfman.

No pain, no gain.

Ronnie Coleman is an 8-time Mr. Olympia.  Mr. Olympia is the pinnacle competition for bodybuilders.  Arnold Schwarzenegger has won it seven times.

In anyone’s travels to the top, which I hear is a lonely place, there are sacrifices that have to be made.  Especially in the sports arena, a lot of athletes work with the adage “No pain, no gain.”  I’ve also heard the downside of that philosophy, over working, over training.  Let’s face it.  Too much of anything is bad.

We can’t go more than a few days without water.  In an apocalyptic world, water would trump gold any day.  But drink too much water, and you’ll die.

I’ve been going to the gym for many years.  I’ve seen many of the same faces.  And many of the same bodies.  Now, I can’t really judge their intentions for going to the gym.  Some need the exercise, prescribed by their doctors.  Others want that rock-hard, beach-ready look.  I can, however, read their intentions by their actions.  And I’d say most people who go to the gym want to look good nekked (naked for those who is unfamiliar with Eddie Murphy).

Here are a few indications:  the gym is pact during New Years and Mondays, guys grunt needlessly as they lift, others talk about their fast cars when scantily clothed females are near by, and still others roll up their t-shirt sleeves, glaring at themselves in the mirror.  Even worse are those who spend endless hours on the treadmill or stationary bike, reading books.  But rarely do I see any change in their body composition over the years.

What do people do instead?

Whine and quit.

So, maybe, no pain, no gain is the way to go.

When I first started training, a friend of mine would go lift with me.  Not only did he have the worst form, but his diet was full of crap food.  And within a couple of months, his strength gains and build had improved faster than I’ve ever seen.  He was also very athletically gifted, and suffered no “pain”.

Recently, I had talked to a kid who was going to the gym four times a week.  He’d been working out for several years but made little headway to the physique he wanted.  Looking at his body, I asked him what he did.  Once he became aware he made little progress, he did a little researched and realized he’d been complacent.

Now, every single workout is different.  It takes a bit more effort, putting more thought into his workouts, most of his sessions are difficult both mentally and physically.  I see him.  From the very first set to the last, he pushes hard.  I feel the pain as he hammers out each set.  As a result, he’s able to lift more weight than a lot of the bigger guys in the gym.  And he’s reaping the rewards.

The key here is that he became aware and made changes.

So life isn’t just about no pain, no gain as much as noticing where you are, what have you done to get to where you want to be, and do you have to make changes that may be uncomfortable to fulfill your dreams.  For some, it’s painless.  For others, it’s not.

I’d just got done rewriting my query letter (after many, many versions) and perused over to the magazine aisle.  And I ran into The Rock.

He’d written an editorial and said something that peaked my interest.  ”Hard work always pay.”  You can see the quote on the magazine cover.

I read the editorial, which was well written, and he mentioned nothing about hard work.  People often think of hard work as being difficult.  I’ve come to know it as being consistent and focused.  This is exactly what the editorial was about.  Showing up and being focused like a laser.  If you look at his career, he’s attained what he’s set his sights on.  No question about it.

As most of you may know, the 2010 Winter Olympics have started.  One of my favorite events to watch is figure skating, both singles and couples.  Tonight, China won first and second.  The focus has surrounded the gold medalist couple, who are married in real life.  Their story is well known in figure skating circles.

Oh!  My back hurts just looking at her.

Shen Xue and Zhao Hongbo have dreamed of Olympic gold for the past eighteen years, since they first were paired by their coach Yao Bin.  Yao Bin had dedicated 30 years of his life bringing couples figure skating to what it is today in China.  He’d suffered huge embarrassment during the 1980 World Championships in Dortmund, West Germany.  He recalls people laughing as the Chinese placed last.

So what’s the point?

Yao Bin was determined to win gold.  And he spent the next three decades, away from his family, honing his skaters’ skills, his coaching skills, studying video of championship figure skaters, doing everything he could to attain what he attained tonight.

Was it difficult?

I have no idea.  But as I watched him on TV, his mind was highly focused and fully present.  He had to trust that all the work Shen and Zhao had put in would come to fruition.  Keep in mind that this is the couple’s fourth attempt, fourth Olympics.  That’s sixteen years.  Zhao, the husband, is 36 years young, and his wife, Shen, is 31.  Age was not a factor as they competed against much younger couples.

Their physical strength, pure athleticism, and grace performed under the pressure of the Olympics.  Difficult?  Sure.  But the testament to their passion, which makes difficult work to others effortless (like being in the zone), was shown at how easy it was when they floated over the ice.  They had to have practiced consistently, concentrating on every minute detail.  Otherwise, the pressure alone would have torn them down.

The key here is doing what you’re passionate about.  Because it’s easier to get what you want when you’re passionate and energetic about something.  Imagine having sex with someone you find ugly.  Difficult?  Yes.  Now imagine having sex with someone you find hot!  Effortless?  Hell yeah!  And you’d probably show up many times.

Did I mention the throws the female skaters completed were insane?

So with anything worth doing in life, show up and focus on exactly what you’re working for.  For dreams are meant to be fulfilled.

It is possible to move a mountain by carrying away small stones.  -Old Chinese proverb.

Most people abhor movie sequels. Not sure why since they usually do well in the box office. But I think the lost love comes from not being as good as the first movie. Part of that comes from character development.  With a lot of stories, the main character goes through a change like going from being unconfident to confident.  And once that’s done that character becomes uninteresting.  The sequel now has to depend on plot.

James Bond as a character doesn’t change at all.  All of his stories are sold based on plot and fan base.  It’s no wonder the actors change so much.  They have to to keep the audience interested.

Then came Casino Royale.  One of the things Bond doesn’t do is fall in love.  He’s a slam-bam-thank-you-mam kinda guy.  Nothing wrong with that.  He whips it out, tugs hard, holds tight, and bam.  I was talking about the gun.  But in Casino, Bond not only whipped it out–not talking about his gun–but let his love interest have it.  I’m talking about his emotions.

The man fell in love.

Add the banter between the two love birds, the plot, and a blonde Bond, and you get one of the best Bond movies ever made.  But once Quantum of Solace came out, it received mixed reviews.  And here we get into franchises.

In my search for a literary agent, I came across an article written by one.  He wrote something that made a lot of sense.  As writers, we have to know that the publishing industry is a business.  As a business, once a platform does well publishers will want to build off it to make more money.

Percy Jackson and the Olympians is a five-book series.  I haven’t read the books, but I’ve spotted them as I walk through Borders.  There are tons of Trilogies.  But they’re small potatoes.  There are book series that last a dozen books.  Some series are even ongoing.  Publishers often urge the writer to continue the series before venturing outside of that domain.

It’s a business.

The problem, as stated above, is character development.  How can a writer continue to make the character interesting?  Put her through a lot of crap through plot?  Maybe.  How about having change occur in supporting characters?  Or what about creating new issues with the main character, and adding change in supporting ones?

Here’s where J.K. Rowling did a great job.  As Harry grew up in those seven years, he changed just like a real person.  Shocking.  That and the red herrings, plot, the close knit friendships made for a great read.  Rowling satisfied the publishing world’s philosophy of building on a fan base, but satisfied her fans by creating incredible plot with highly relatable characters.

As writers, we need to keep at heart the art but also keep an eye on the world of business.

I’d just watched a great movie called Man From Earth.  The premise is awesome, and without it I wouldn’t have watched it.  But during a good-gye party, friends learn that the honorary guest is a caveman who has lived for 14,000 years.  That’s right.  A bonafied caveman, cro magnon, to be exact.

It was written by famed science fantasy writer, Jerome Bixby.

It’s a fantastic premise because what the caveman reveals is just earth shattering.  I’d suggest watching.

One of the things John, the caveman, reveals is that he was a well known religious figure.  Everyone in the party at this point doesn’t really know whether to believe his story so far, but to claim to be this certain figure seems heinous.  Until John explains how this religious figure got his mythical status.  How history can apply layers of mythicism on an individual.

And that got me thinking.

I’d had the pleasure of pitching to Donald Maass, the famed New York agent who wrote How to Write the Breakout Novel.  This was my first book on writing.  I’d attended his one hour lecture at the San Francisco Writer’s Conference.  His whole thing is to write with emotional depth and make your story big.  Big with emotions.  (Wow.  I’m using a lot of fragments today.)

Some examples are betrayal, retribution, and the all time favorite “I hate you, dad!”

In my book, my hero has severe issues with his father.  His father left him without saying good-bye after being convicted of a murder.  With this, a lot of people assumed that the father was guilty, despite his fervent attempt to prove his innocence.  Kinda like OJ hurling down the freeway at 152.5 MPH.

My hero is left with the question of why.  Was his father guilty?  Did he not love my hero enough?  What did my hero do to make his father leave?  As the days pass, my hero is forced to answer these questions and begins to layer greatness upon his estranged father.

Sorta like someone breaking up with you, and you can’t stop thinking about all the good times you both had, even though there may have been a lot of bad.

Maass said these past parental issues tend to manifest themselves in other parts of your life.  For example, if your father was a perfectionist, forced and punished you to be a perfectionist, then you grow up and torture yourself to be a perfectionist at work.  Your relationships go bad because you’re trying to find the perfect man or woman.  You can’t seem to settle on any home that you visit, driving your real estate agent crazy.  You go into deep debt, buying every electronic device because they keep getting better.  You get ten plastic surgeries trying to fit the perfect mold.  All because your father prodded you to be perfect.  Then, all of a sudden, you yell at a picture of your father, “I hate you, dad!”  But what you actually hate is the person you’ve turned into, and, hopefully, as up-lifting stories go, you realize that his world of perfection doesn’t have to be yours.  And you begin to live a life that’s true to you.

The point is, when writing stories, sometimes childhood issues bubble up without the character knowing it.  He may never know it.  She may scream at a jar of honey and remember when her mother yelled at her for spilling honey on their new carpet.  It’s a great way of deepening a character.

In my postAre You a Complainer,I ask the question, “Are you a complainer?”  Some of you may complain that the last sentence was a bit redundant.  My friend made a comment:  Odd that people would accept a habit that makes them feel miserable.  I think the reason may be people are comfortable.

People want the above picture.  A road that lights up that leads to their destination.

People will even follow a road like this, which I think reflects life a bit more.

But if you were the rock, which path would you follow?  The straight path?  The curvy one?  How about the third?

I was reading another writer’s post, and they were talking about why writers write, knowing thechancesany kind of success is freakin’ low.

Here’s my view: Learn the lesson of the turtle.

I wrote The 7th Province and will continue to write the two books in this series and the prequels because some how for some reason these stories were given to me to write.  I write these posts because when I come across something that invokes a thought close to my heart, I write about it.

It is what it is cuz it ain’t what it ain’t.

Duh.

Despite the millions of books that are written each year, writing is the unbeaten path.

When I went to the San Francisco Writer’s Conference, I talked to a lot of writers.  Many were published.  Many had written books.  But I was also surprised to find that many writers hadn’t even begun.  Was it their destiny to write?  That’s not for me to answer.  But it seems that those who write, write because they are inspired to.

God!  Here’s that freakin’ word ‘inspire’.

That word invokes an internal meaning.  It’s not ‘outspire’, which isn’t even a word.  Nor is it perspire, which invokes strange odors.  But it’s inspire.  In.

In The Karate Kid, Mr. Miyagi asks Daniel to close his eyes and imagine a perfect picture of a bonsai tree.

Mr. Miyagi:  Wipe your mind clean.  Everything but the tree.  Nothing exists in whole world…only tree.  You got it?  Open eyes.  Remember picture?

Daniel-san:  Yeah.

Mr. Miyagi:  Make like picture.  Just trust the picture.

Daniel-san:  How do I know my picture’s the right one?

Mr. Miyagi:  If come from inside you, always right one.

Do what you love, love what you do.

Working in the corporate world lends my ears to a lot of complaining.  Currently we’re getting a lot of rain.

But for the past few years we weren’t receiving the needed amount of rain and headed toward a drought.  So I’m thankful for this storm.  But all I hear throughout the office is how terrible this weather is.  How awful it is out there.  How inconvenient the rain is.

So would they rather have this?

Because people were complaining how we didn’t get a lot of rain.  Either way, complainers can’t seem to be satisfied with anything.

Here’s a good one.  A lot of companies are going through layoffs.  Mine was no different.  But some of my coworkers complained how busy we were.  We were so busy that overtime was authorized.  I don’t know about them, but busy should equal job security.  I’m not a proponent of guarantees, but in a time when unemployment is higher than normal, you’d think they’d be glad it was busy.

I’m not saying I don’t complain.  I tend to do it in my head.  And once I’m done, I feel tight, angry, and depressed.  So I’ve become aware of it and do what I can to quiet my mind.  Sometimes, though, I whine like a baby.  In those cases, I either write a post, surf the web, workout, take a drive, listen to music, watch a good movie…you get the idea.

But a habitual conscious effort will replace a lot of complaining.  Because the best way to replace a habit is with another one.  Just don’t replace it with another bad one.  I’ve seen this before.  When people know their complaining doesn’t do anything, they take on addictive habits.  Like watching reality TV.  Sit at bars staring at the ladies and giving them the hibbie jibbies.  Or eat crap food.

Find what gives you joy.  True joy.  And do it.  You never know where it’ll lead.