One of my favorite acting teachers was Jean Shelton. Her legacy in the acting world had gone back to The Group Theater, which held many luminaries such as Harold Clurman, Elia Kazan, Lee Strasburg, and one of Jean’s personal teachers, Stella Stradler, who also taught Robert Dinero (just to name a few). The list of people however is freakin’ amazing. They pioneered the method from the Stanislavksi techniques and beyond to what American acting is today. Marlon Brando had won the Oscar for his role in ON THE WATER FRONT, which I think was the first time an actor won using the method.
So why mention this?
Jean’s daughter, Wendy Phillips, had come in one Saturday to give a talk about her experience in Hollywood, where she works as an actress and teaches. She’d acted with small time actors like Robert Dinero in MIDNIGHT RUN, Sean Penn in I AM SAM (loved that movie), and Warren Beatty in BUGSY. During a Q & A session, one of the students in the audience asked her what she could do to make it. Make what? Become a movie stah. Sorry foh my Asian accent.
Wendy said something to this extent: Become the best actress. That was the sentiment throughout Jean’s school. Be the best. Sounds easy to me.
Problem with that is someone is always going to be better, prettier, taller, buffer, richer, whatever. Not discounting skill or talent here.
Recently, I had gone to Miami, Florida and decided to read their inflight magazine, Airway. They interviewed lead singer of R.E.M., Michael Stipe. He said something that struck me in the balls. ”I never thought I was very good at what I do. That’s why perhaps the most important quality in a person, even beyond curiosity, is humility. Not false humility. Not false modesty, but a real humility. It’s an understanding that you really are no better than anyone else. You’re just fortunate to do something that other people respect or like or can pull something from.”
I’m the worst judge when it comes to comparing music, or even knowing the names to songs. I hear them on the radio, enjoy them, but since they don’t mention the titles, I don’t learn them. But the fact that R.E.M. have been around since 1980, they’ve got to be doing something right.
Now, what Stipe said hit me in the balls because I had finished taking a writing class from a reputable school that is known for producing good science fiction and fantasy writers. Part of the class was critiquing other students’ work, something that I’m not a fan of because writing styles can vary and still be great. When I read everyone’s pieces, I thought to myself, man, none of them are bad, and they all can write pretty well. When I looked at my writing, it didn’t differ much from a technical point of view. And I felt the same when I read most other published authors. Sometimes I feel there isn’t anything special that sets them apart. Not saying their work isn’t special, but that from a technical standpoint, there wasn’t an awe inspiring light from the heavens or a fire erupting from the cracking earth that showed me THIS IS IT.
Maybe part of the demystifying aspect of my point of view is the amount of thought and work I’ve put into the technical side. Taking a class from beyondstructure.com that broke down storytelling techniques to techniques, not theories, helped immensely as well. It seemed the writing class I took had 50% theory and 50% what I should include. Beyond structure broke storytelling down to it’s minute parts, parts that no reader, audience member should ever care about, but can feel when the techniques are used well.
Even though I compared my writing to others in the class, I never thought of myself as being exceptionally great or not. I took the class for the pure purpose of learning. I knew that in each individual story, different talents, skills, techniques, and tools are used. But a tool chest’s full is never used for a single one. It’s like using every ingredient in the world to make an omelet.
I write with no thought of bestsellers, fame, honor, or magnanimous glory. No plans of world domination. No plans at all. But they do creep in, riddling panic up my spine. So I take a moment and sip my coffee or tea and dive back in. Once I’m done, then my fantasies can fly as they wish.
“The best laid schemes o’ mice an’ men / Gang aft agley” -John Steinbeck
The best-laid plans of mice and men often go awry.
As a writer and a former student of acting, one of the things I love to do is watch people. I don’t do it to try and develop a new character. I just do it to do it. I may never know what I may gleam from others. But I’m sure it’ll be something cool. That’s kinda my approach on life. If there’s something significant that I need to know, somehow it’ll come, and I’ll know it.
I think one of the biggest complaints people have about their lives is not getting what they want. Complaints of unanswered prayers. Disheartening stories of bad things happening to good people. Now, I’m not discounting them as simple complaints. Shit happens. Sometimes it does get in the way. But life must and does go on.
However, I think people get what they want more often than not. Hence the saying, be careful what you wish for. You may get it.
I’m never one to settle for just a corporate job. It’s a volunteer sentence at an open door penitentiary. As I was serving my time, an 8-hour day, a coworker complained how slow it was. And indeed it was like molasses on ice. She brought a book to read, talked endlessly on the phone, took long walks during work hours to pass the time. She even requested extra stuff to do from her boss. Her wish was fulfilled. For the next few months, she was working every single minute of her voluntary sentence. She barely took lunches.
So what did she do?
C’mon. You know. She complained it was too busy, doing everything she could to keep her head above water. She wished it had been slower.
As she diligently worked, her work load lightened. It got to the point where she brought in her book, talked on the phone endlessly, and took long walks. And as all cycles do, she went back and told me how she hated having nothing to do.
When I started writing, I knew the one thing I needed was time. And my job was entrenched in sales. Not only was it sapping my energy, my soul really, but the job had carried over into my free time. It was even affecting my relationship with my then girlfriend. Then is the operative word.
I needed another job that I could let go once I punched the clock to go home. And I had found it. But it meant less money.
What was more important to me? Money? Or my writing? Not exactly SOPHIE’S CHOICE, but one that a lot of artists do contend with.
There had been a lot of people leaving my department. At times it felt like there was an exodus, leaving me behind to suffer religious persecution. So I questioned myself. Do I stay or do I look for greener pastures?
I’d asked them why they were leaving, and their answers were some version of the grass is greener on the other side: more money, prestige, upward mobility (climbing the corporate ladder), etc. But it seemed to me they didn’t have any direction. Not that you have to have a direction. If you’re not growing, then you’re…
But they were leaving on superficial grounds rather on specific wants. People tend to regret those decisions. And leaving this job meant their problems would also leave, following them to the next. Since the constant in these problematic situations is the self and not the environment. People tend to bring problems with them. That’s why women don’t date guys with baggage. Not that I have that issue. Ahem.
So. Back to my choice. Money? Or writing?
Why not both? I made sure I could live on the amount of money the new job offered. So I asked for more, which I got. Alleviating much of the stress my sales job gave me, or I imposed on myself, my free time grew more peaceful, allowing me to create. I still made less money than I did selling mortgages, but my timing was right on. Soon after, the real estate industry crumbled around me, as I lived in the fantasy world that I am still writing about.
Be aware of what you wish for. You are sure to get it. Whether it’s right or not is a reward/consequence you’ll learn from.
In storytelling, there are many techniques to add depth to a character, a scene, or overall spine of a story. A lot of what is said in dialogue can hint to each character’s main trait, a trait defined as affecting the world they see. A woman is going to see the world differently than a man. An assertive/aggressive man will see a world as his oyster, where an unconfident one will see himself a victim. So actions and dialogue must coincide with those traits.
A way to bring a certain level of depth into the spine of a story was illustrated well in a movie called SEVEN SAMURAI. All of the samurai were killed by firearm. Though, it wasn’t indicated in the movie where someone said, “Hey, Bro. All our Samurai brothahs got whacked by firearms.” It was shown and spoke to how times were changing and the need for samurai was dying. We see this capped off at the end when the samurai left the village they helped defend. The villagers paid little attention as the samurai walked off into the horizon. Most audience members, including myself, wouldn’t have noticed. The effect is to play on a subconscious level.
I’d received a call from an old friend and was told that I had been blacklisted from my former martial arts school. That my name was removed from a list of honored. I wondered if that was a mistake and thought back. And here is where storytelling came into play.
At the school, after each teacher reached a certain level, the master called them by their first name. Being a formal school, everyone bowed and went by Mr. This and Ms. That. Once I reached that level, I was still referred to as Mr. Ng. Along the front of the school hung a line of pictures of the most esteemed. In the center, the master. If you know the game musical chairs, then you should be familiar with the game the master played. Those most loyal, most accomplished, most respected found their picture closest to the center. Those who thought outside of the box had left the school due to creative differences. Their pictures moved further away from the center, or removed. Can you guess where my picture went?
As I logged into my site, I noticed that my one of my posts received a lot of comments. I said to myself, “Wow. I haven’t seen those names in a long time.” People from the school. Those are the loyal, accomplished, esteemed.
Being purposefully blacklisted feels kinda cool. And their actions are very telling. They always talk about not having egos, taught that egos can get in the way.
But when a confident person is accused of something, something that they’re not, they should remain silent. If you’re confident that you’re not a table, and someone accuses you of being a table, would you argue that you’re not a table?
Now, I fully believe in what I said in that post. But I didn’t name anyone or my formal school in anyway shape or form. So what does that say when students from that school come to argue against a post written about them? That what I said hit a nerve. And being blacklisted was done on purpose, which I totally accept as I had removed myself from that school many years ago.
Couple weeks ago, I had the pleasure of being judged by my boss. It was time for midyear scorecards where they tell me how good of a job I’m doing and how much of a value I am. I asked my manager who read these scorecards, and he said, “Probably nobody.”
I’ve never put much stock in what people say about me, whether good or bad. Though words do hurt sometimes, especially if it’s from someone close like family or girlfriends. And since I’m not trying to climb up the corporate ladder, I put little effort in improving my scorecard.
I was talking to a coworker the other day and she was upset that P90X didn’t shed the weight off her body like the informercial promised. There are two issues here, or maybe just one. First, it’s an informercial. Second, she didn’t try very hard. Both led me to believe how unaware she may be.
One of the many quotes I have a hard time with is: The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, expecting a different result.
Being a former actor, one thing actors do is audition, audition, audition. Most of the time they get rejected, which is normal. But every time they hope to get hired. Is this insanity? No. Things can change from moment to moment.
What’s different is the day, the role, your attitude in that moment, the people involved, etc. There are thousands of things that can be different that it hardly qualifies as the same.
Even though I was rejected by every literary agent I’ve submitted to, doesn’t mean I won’t submit to them again to try and protect my insanity. I think you have to be a bit insane in order to write a book and a dash of craziness sprinkled in to want to get published.
Being aware of my own efforts, aware of my own writing technique, open to others criticisms and suggestions, and adapting myself to accommodate the story (the bigger picture), which is what’s important, not me as the writer, I’m able to trust in myself in the direction that I’m heading.
My coworker should have done the same. Was she trying hard enough? Was she watching what she ate? No, I found out. Her eyes were closed. She placed the expectation of being thin on a product and not on her own efforts. Deep inside, I could tell, she secretly blamed the program. It is an infomercial after all. But we sometimes don’t see that it is us we should be aware of and make little changes, like putting a little more effort, to yield huge results.
Sitting in my jail-like 6X6 cubicle, I overheard the new guy at our office, who charmed the whole lot, invite one of my team mates out to happy hour. Of course there was no sliding cell door that kept me from inviting myself. Footsteps swishes away as I wondered if I was going to be included in this exclusive outing. That would be a no.
Feelings of being the geeky, nerdy, lone Chinese kid, who people thought was smart, cheating off his paper (big mistake) came flooding back into my barreled chest. Too much? All I ever wanted in high school was to be the big man on campus. Not be smart. Psh.
Delving into the victim mindset was something I grew up with, so I knew it was just a reactionary moment of despair. Then I kinda laughed about it after drying my tears because I was meeting my mother later, and remembered that a five-year-old girl can hold her liquor better than I could. I wish I was joking. This leads me to my first point. Don’t cheat off my paper. My book smarts is limited.
One of my friends graduated from the university with a Theater Arts degree. She had showcases in New York and Los Angeles and felt she belonged in LA. She had an offer from an agent to represent her, but she declined because she didn’t feel connected to this person.
Now. To get an agent in Holli’s wood is probably just as hard for an author in Litty’s (literary) world. So I have to applaud her. In a world where the talent, yup, I’m part o’dat group, can be desperate to get representation, they’d take whoever shows a little leg. But the power comes back to the talent, still part o’dat group, when we choose who we want to be represented by. Because the whoever represents us talented must at the least love work.
This brings me to my second point. Know you’re talented.
When I researched agents, I read their blogs to find the one thing I could relate myself or my book in my query letters to them. I had found one that I liked with similar humor to me. I was like, ommahgawd, were made to be. Then I read one of his posts, which went something like this: Many people play the piano for fun and never want to play in an orchestra. Why is it that people can’t write for the pure joy of it without wanting to be published?
This guy’s world must be really small. Most of the people that I know who write, write for pure joy in journals, twitter, blogs, and have no want to be published in the traditional sense. I know very few who would venture into the publishing world. Hmm. Maybe my world is small. For some reason his comment turned me off.
Why?
Maybe because I wanted to be that popular guy who everyone looks up at. Which is hard since I’m not that tall.
“Hey. That’s Jimmy Ng! He wrote NIGHTFALL. He’s like the J.K. Rowling of fantasy.”
“Dude, man. J.K. Rowling is the J.K. Rowling of fantasy.”
“Oh, yeah,” I thought, while tapping my bottom lip.
Do I want to become popular in the high school sense? No. Do I want everyone to read NIGHTFALL? Totally. It’s a dream of mine.
But it’s an important question to ask. I wanted to write it because I thought it would be fun. It was. I want the world to read it and just enjoy the exhilaration I felt writing the book. I serve so people may have a little bit of escapism.
As a writer and a former student of acting, I people watch. Sometimes I’m judgmental when I don’t mean to be. A lot of times I form stories in my head. And most of the time the stories happen on their own. Not sure what it is that makes me do this, but here I am.
If you’ve read my bio, then you know how I feel about the martial arts school I’d come from. But in their defense they have worked very hard to become nationally recognized, especially under the Ed Parkername, and have good relations with certain officials in the Chinese community.
And in the great comedic words of Brian Regan: I don’t want to step on anyone’s beliefs…well…here we go.
I had received an invitation celebrating the head black belt’s 25th anniversary in martial arts, honoring him as teacher and master. The man has done a lot for the school and the discipline. And here’s where I have an issue: the discipline.
I had majored in kinesiology, study of human movement, at university. One of the fundamental principles in learning movement is repetition.
Take writing for example. When we first learned how to write the letter ‘A’, we probably traced dashed lines that formed that letter. The teacher then removed the training wheels and asked us to write the letter ‘A’ on a blank sheet of recycled paper. We learned how to sound out simple words like ‘see’, ‘dog’, ‘run’. Learned the basic structure of a sentence. Then we were taught what a basic paragraph looks like.
Learning martial arts isn’t too far from that. You learn what a fighting stance is, where to put your hands, learn defensive moves like blocking and attacks like punching and kicking. The teacher demonstrates. The student follows.
Once a student learns the alphabet (punching, kicking, blocking), simple self-defense techniques are taught. Someone grabs your shirt, you trap his wrists by grabbing them so he can’t hit you and knee him in the nuts, the balls, the family jewels. More properly known as the groin. (Why are all attackers male?) As the color of your belt changes, so does the complexity of the techniques, like learning how to write a paragraph.
There’s only one problem with this.
When a high school student is given an assignment to write an essay, she must come up with the words on her own. She’ll be given a subject, but she has to do the work.
Fighting is no different. When a person gets attacked, she must fend for herself. Her teacher won’t be there to help. And because people are different, so are their attacks. An attack on a woman will be different than on a man. A man attacking will be different than a woman attacking.
Now, if you’ve watched a boxing match, you’d know that a fight is very dynamic.
Fundamental principle in human reaction: When learning how to cope with two or more different kinds of stimuli, one must train in that similar environment. So if you want to play classical music, then you’ll train to play classical music. Make sense?
Boxers work on technique all the time. Thing is, he can have the best punch in the world, but it’s useless if he can’t hit his opponent. So he focuses on accuracy through different drills like mitt and bag work, and, more importantly, he spars. Not only does he have to contend with his own footwork and where he is in relation to his opponent, he must deal with his opponent’s aggression, physical strength, etc. However, having one sparring partner can become stagnant. Often boxers will have several to mix things up. One person’s tells in poker will differ from another, as an example.
My former school did almost no partner drills or pad/bag work with their general student population. No physical drills in an art that is physical. So what did they do? Practice self-defense techniques in the air. Something Bruce Lee argued against vehemently. Below is a video of how most of the training is done but wasn’t from the school I’m referring to. It’s just a random video that showcases my point.
It was at this point where I’d realized their method of teaching was highly limited. Then came the straw that broke the camel’s back.
We had often made fun of other disciplines like Tae Kwan Do, Karate and such. That once someone gets a black belt, they learn more of the same stuff. They have a saying: You learn more and more about less and less. Clever, yes. Astute? Not so much.
In the school, once a black belt is earned, “new” techniques are learned. All of which are practiced without a partner, in the air, like a student learning to trace more and more complex essays. The value wasn’t there. It’s like a wrestler practicing alone on the mat. If he only does that, he’s not going to fare well against a live person.
They teach: Think outside of the box but bring it to us first and we’ll let you know if we approve of it. My best friend brought them ideas, which they shot down, only to integrate them and call it their own. They gave no credit to my friend. Why? I’m not sure. I don’t think they know. Many of their teachers left, teachers whom I like to term thinkers.
So when I got the invitation, all I could think of was how little has changed there. Certainly, the head black belt has learned a lot. Knowing what I know about human movement, I am certain he’s learned more and more about less and less.
I love it when I spend days upon days on a couple of chapters only to finally admit to myself that I need to rewrite the whole thing. It’s a good thing and a bad thing. It’s good because I realize I have to rewrite it. It’s bad because I kept on ignoring that realization. Cest la vie.
When I think about a scene and the characters involved, I think a lot about their actions. Their actions, more than what they say, tell a deeper story. If someone slams their hand on the table and says, “I’m calm,” we know that’s not true. If a character does something meaningless with no foreseeable goal, then it’s possible they’re there to just eaves drop without appearing to be, for example.
I learned from my days in acting that drawing from life and putting them in art is a great resource of inspiration.
My nephew had interviewed for a job where I work, the glorious corporate world. He’d been working through college at Home Depot. After being called back for a second interview, I had inquired what the managers had thought about my nephew. Unfortunately for him, I have no pull. Their main concern was he seemed desperate to leave Home Depot.
From what my nephew had told me, it didn’t sound like it. Now, if someone worked through college at a retail store, graduate, and then looks for a job, they’re looking to move on. Right? I mean, is it a sin to go out and use your college degree to get a better job?
I had just watched an episode of Bones, and the psychologist talked about self-projection. An example of this is when we hate something about another person; it’s really something we hate about ourselves. I tend to find this true more often than not, especially within me.
It’s amazing how much some of the people at work complain. How some of them feel imprisoned. How they yearn for the weekend, look forward to vacations, but can’t leave their jobs because they have to pay for their Bimmers or Luis Vuittons. Are they projecting themselves onto my nephew, desperate to leave?
I’ve been keeping an eye on how AT&T reacted once Verizon had gotten the right to sell the famed iPhone 4. A little history. Verizon had been on a successful ad campaign against AT&T. So when AT&T started selling the iPhone 4, they got rid of their unlimited data plan, something that pissed off a lot of customers. Instead of improving their network to handle all of their customers thanks to Apple’s iPhone exclusivity, they limited new customers’ usage: We have the fastest network. Just don’t use it that much. Here’s what AT&T did once Verizon iPhone 4 went on sale:
As I was plunging down a steep mountainside, my mind strode off to the seven deadly sins. Now, I’m not sure what conjured that thought. I should have been concentrating on snowboarding.
What I was thinking before that was how I would never be a world-class boarder. I’m a weekend warrior. But since I don’t go every weekend, I’m not even that. I watched others who jumped what seemed like 50 feet into the air, and all I could think of was, “I don’t have the balls to do that.”
Some would say I have confidence issues. Others may growl and tell me to grow a set. Me? I’m just being honest.
One of the most notable things about Catholicism is the Seven Deadly Sins. For me, they relate so well with ego. I work on not letting my ego stand in my way, get the best of me, or cloud my judgment. But as all humans, it pushes me aside and reigns moments of my life. Many times I’m conscious of this. Other times, I’m conscious of this but take no notice.
If we study the Sins, they revert our eyes onto ourselves. Now, I’m not a religious man, nor do I believe in organized religion. In many ways, I’m against it outside of forming and helping a community.
But if we are to heed the Sins, then we are to look at our actions and ourselves. Am I boastful when there’s no need to be (pride)? Do I want to have sex with every woman (lust)? I can’t seem to give anything to anyone (greed). Etc.
So why is it when we talk about honesty and lying, do we translate that to not lying to people? Why don’t we translate that to not lying to ourselves?
One of the most irritating things men do is be secretive about their age. Just in my group of coworkers, I’ve encountered grown men who won’t reveal how old they are. Why is that? When asked, I get:
I don’t feel comfortable telling you my age
I’m older than thirty, younger than fifty
Why do you want to know?
I stopped counting candles a long time ago (Jason Statham)
This, of course, goes beyond age. Most people don’t really know what they want. I ask them the million-dollar question: If you were guaranteed to make a million dollars a year, what would you do?
Most say I don’t know. And that’s crazy.
I’m not sure if it’s parents, teachers, or our schooling, but somehow along the way, we’ve lost our dreams. Traded them in for practical jobs or careers that mean nothing to us and brings us no joy.
And when I coax a real answer and tell them to go for it, they tell me:
• It’s impossible.
• Statistically, there’s no chance of success.
• It’s too hard. I don’t have the money to do it.
• I don’t know how.
• My dreams won’t pay my bills.
• I’m too busy.
• I can’t miss The Bachelor!
All of these are lies. All of them lying to themselves. To me, that is the biggest sin.
