Don’t you hate it when you see a fine young woman and know that she knows that you know that she knows she’s all that? Translation: Because she’s beautiful, she’s going to be high maintenance, conceited, and only want to date guys within her league.
Or at least that’s what a friend said to me on many occasions. He was head over heals for a woman who was beautiful and immediately started to judge her. I’d gotten to know this fine young thing, sorry couldn’t help myself, and she’s nice. She is high maintenance, which isn’t due to her looks, but she’s actually insecure about her looks, despite her looks. Huh?
I’d questioned my friend, who I’ll call Mork, why he thought this way about “Mindy”. “All beautiful girls are like that. All they want is money, a man with power, and a guy with security. That’s why it’s impossible for me to get someone like that.”
My jaw dropped off the earth, circled the moon, and swung off into the beyond.
“Did you just hear what you said?” I asked Mork.
“What?”
“Maybe you think women are this way because you have insecurities about yourself.”
He stared at me like I had shined one of the LED flashlights into his slanty eyeballs.
It’s no wonder women complain men don’t listen. We don’t even listen to ourselves.
I’d applied for an online writing class. The application requested two references who’ve read my writing. It wanted their names, email addresses, birth dates, blood samples, urine samples, social security numbers, psychological breakdowns, and favorite color. OK, maybe not favorite color. But references? It’s not like I’m applying to be an FBI agent. My best friend sent in a raving reference, making me look like I was the Pope of writing.
I’d received an email stating that the school will get back to me within a week to let me know if I was qualified to take the class. Included with the application was a sample of my writing. A couple of days later, I was accepted.
Immediately I thought: Ooh. They must need students and not gotten enough applicants for the class.
Did I just say that? To me?
Obviously, this put a damper in my day as I realized where I truly thought my capability lay as a novelist.
Now, to be clear, it doesn’t matter whether I’m a good writer or not. It matters whether I think I am, or not. As Henry Ford said, either way I think, I’m gonna be right. Gonna…is that good writing?
So a gateway into what you think of yourself are the thoughts that come into your mind. Although, that thought could’ve been situational. Like the kind a lot of people have when their airplane goes through turbulence. A lot of people are afraid the plane will crash. It won’t. But if we put too much energy into a thought, especially ones that reflect our abilities, then we will eventually fulfill them, good or bad.
Like Mork. He’s cool enough to charm a beautiful woman, he’s financially stable, something women want, and he has good values. But his constant negative thoughts on what women want limit his ability to attract them.
Subtlety has escaped Hollywood. Hollywood, however, is a representation of what the market will bear. Market being the peeps. Us. What we’re likely to pay a whopping twelve bucks to watch.
To be more homogenous, movies must have:
• Action
• Suspense
• Romance
• Mystery
• Redemption
• Revenge
• Comic relief
• Strong female lead
• Coupled by a backward-thinking male lead who learns to love the strong female lead finally realizing that she’s his everlasting soul mate for all time and beyond
• A chase scene either by foot, car, truck, or air, with shoot outs that lead to a climactic battle between God and Satan, where armies of orcs, elves, muggles, wizards, witches, followed by mere men and women, and a child who was born with a butterfly tattoo preordaining her to cure the virus that has threatened life as we know it and must complete a special training that will make him (wasn’t it a her?) nearly invincible (nearly because we have to have tension in our epic fog of a story)
• And a Hollywood ending where the child cures Satan of his issues, and both God and Satan float off into the sunset
• The End
One of the things I do is read reviews of movies, Roger Ebert being my favorite. They don’t have any bearing on what I watch. But I can learn a lot about story telling by people’s likes and dislikes, and they’re fairly common. As a story teller, the market is important to a certain point. But as J.K. Rowling and Stephanie Meyers has proven, good content creates the market. We see this in the explosion of wizardry and horromance in the media today.
When reviews are either good or bad cohesively, there may be some merit. On Fandango, I had looked up the times for Hereafter, directed by Clint Eastwood, starring Matt Damon. Part of the movie was filmed in San Francisco in an apartment building my friend lives in. So it was cool hearing stories of how filming went.
Fandango had a rating of yellow, meaning most of the people who saw the movie thought it was “so-so”. That’s the middle rating. But Jackass in 3D got a bright green rating, the top, a “must go”. A red means “oh no”, stay away or lose two hours of life you can never get back.
Most people complained Hereafter was slow and uneventful. But you can’t have a good story with substance based purely on the afterlife. You may point out Paranormal Activity, but it’s just cheap thrills. Would you stay in a house that haunted you for any length of time? I’m brave. But I ain’t that brave. And none of the Paranomal movies explored why they stayed or what issues being haunted brought up. It represents nothing. It’s like going to a strip club, paying to get a hard-on, then walking home with with no relief.
Not that I know of those kinds of naughty, naughty things.
A good story with substance uses something as the backdrop, like the afterlife, to show case interpersonal issues. Hereafter does that from three different perspectives: a psychic who can communicate with the dead, a journalist who had a near death experience, and a boy who yearns for his dead twin.
A good example of backdrop is Casino Royale. I’m not a huge Bond fan. I never knew why until I started to study story. James Bond is a classic character. He’s suave. He likes all women. He sleeps with all women he desires. He likes his drinks to be shaken, not stirred. He can get out of any situation. He’s a master fighter, can wield any weapon made available, and is witty.
But as a character, he never changes. He doesn’t go from having no confidence to being confident. He doesn’t realize the error of his ways. He doesn’t learn to be loyal because he already is. He doesn’t have any bad qualities. Qualities that a writer can hang his hat on to change.
Except for one. He’s emotionally detached to the women he’s intimate with. He never falls in love. Then Vesper Lynd, played by Eva Green, shows up in Royale. She’s confident, brash, reads Bond for who he is, and just as every bit competitive. Through their competitiveness, Bond falls in love with her. A huge change in both character and in the movie. When Vesper dies, he must struggle with the pain, something all humans go through. As a result, Casino Royale is one of the best reviewed Bond movies.
“We might as well not even show up, according to some of the experts,” Aubrey Huff said right before heading into the playoffs with the Phillies.
I’m not a baseball fan at all. Hell, I’m not a sports fan. I’ve gone to office sponsored games just because it was an excuse to get out of my 6 X 6 cubicle cell.
“We were underdogs the whole way, and all the experts out there picked us last,” Huff said after the San Francisco Giants won the World Series. “But we had heart, great pitching, defense and timely hitting. Experts be damned.”
Congratulations to the Giants as they did fight their way to the win.
Even I had heard from the experts, stating how the Phillies and Rangers would maul the Giants. But not only did the Giants kick ass, they literally mauled them, in baseball terms of course.
I’ve said this so many times on this site and to friends and family. The only reason experts are experts is because they are self-proclaimed, or know more about the details compared to the average person. Many have pieces of paper called degrees, or metal plates nailed onto pieces of dead wood called awards that prove their expertness. None of that helps people predict the future, especially yours.
When it comes to believing in yourself, going for what you truly want in life, and knowing who you are as a person, only you are the true expert. And even if an expert supports you, you still gotta get out there and do it, whatever that may be.
Keep a deaf ear to outsiders and listen to your heart.
Herein lies the problem. Most people don’t know what their heart says. I’ve asked what people want in life. What do they dream of? What would totally kick ass? Almost everybody says, “I don’t know.”
I didn’t know either. I had blocked out my dream so much, as it pulled my pant leg for twenty years, that I didn’t find it until I opened myself to myself. I asked probing questions. What do I like? What do I want? Ham sandwich or burrito for lunch? Blonde or brunette? How about both at the same time?
If I was financially independent, what would I do? After sleeping all day. After traveling aimlessly. After shopping for my twenty Ferraris and Lamborghinis.
If I was guaranteed to make a million a year, what profession would I choose? Would it be a profession?
I tried everything that had to do with the arts. Because I knew I wanted to do something creative. Martial arts. Writing. Drawing. Painting. Reading. Writing. Acting. Writing. Computer programming. Yup, that’s an art. Teaching. Film making. But the thing I returned to over and over was writing.
So I carved my life around writing. I went to writing conferences, seminars, read books on writing, discussed it, and bought software to help me brainstorm ideas. I bought a computer and printer. I got a new job that wasn’t as stressful. I had set times for writing. I wrote five days a week.
I had just gotten some feed back from a friend who is an avid reader. And one of the things that was interesting were the questions she’d written on post it notes, placed along the pages of my book.
She had immediately asked questions about what certain things looked like, questions about the culture of my fantasy world, time line, etc. All of this within the first few pages.
There’s a couple ways I can take this. A writer should always ignite questions within a reader’s mind. That’s a good thing. Create interest. Reward them by giving the answers or enough to at least spark debates like the movie Inception.
A writing example would be the Davinci Code. Robert Langdon always comes across plot elements that forces us, and him, to ask questions. Why was he called to aid in a murder investigation? He’s symbologist and the victim has a symbol carved into his chest. Did he do it? We only met him when he got the call to help, so we’re not sure. But we find he didn’t because of the victim’s granddaughter. She confirms the French sergeant is trying to pin the crime on Langdon . Who’s the nameless teacher? We find out at the climax.
On and on with the questions but we eventually find out the answers.
So am I saying I’m just as great a writer as Dan Brown?
As I’ve lent my book out to people, they first see the book as not published and, therefore, not done by a professional. They’re judging the book not by it’s cover but by it’s credibility. As a result, they’re not patient enough to let their questions answer themselves, as I’ve made sure to do.
If she had placed the post it notes late in the book, then there would have been storytelling issues I would need to fix. You can have certain questions linger on, like leaving the butler did it till the climax. Questions that either build the world or help move the plot along should be answered as we move along.
When we look at The Road by Cormac McCarthy, a post apocalyptic novel, we can’t help but ask questions of time, setting, and what brought this disaster? But they’re not answered. I assume because McCarthy only wants the reader to focus on the father and the son, letting us be the judge of what brought the “flash”. But would my friend question him? Probably not. McCarthy is, after all, a Pulitzer Prize winning novelist.
So perception is key, and I did ask her to just read it and tell me if she enjoyed it. She said she did, but the post it notes stopped abruptly. Either her questions got answered or she didn’t finish the book. Knowing her, she didn’t finish. And I’m all right with that. I can’t make everybody happy. I can only make me happy.
And no. I can’t compare myself to Brown. How can one perfect cherry blossom be better than another?
In my book there is a tattoo culture. Each family has their own symbol or emblem, which is customarily tattooed within the frame of an armband. Recreational tats are also used. If the person is a warrior and is moving up the ranks, then tattoos will represent that.
I love tats.
For me, tattoos should have meaning. They can represent a period in my life, something I may want to let go, something that I want to remember forever, or something that represents one of my philosophies in life. So I take a long time to decide what I want to get. But that’s part of the fun. The other part is the pain involved. But that’s another post.
One of my favorite shows is The Actor’s Studio, hosted by James Lipton. He’s interviewed famous actors, directors, and some writers, exploring how they got to where they are today. One of the running themes of the show is tattoos. Every time an actor has one, or several, Lipton asks them about it. He whines how he can’t have a tattoo because his wife won’t allow it.
One of my friends wants a tattoo. He’s a doctor. His wife won’t allow him to have one. She said it isn’t proper for a doctor. My initial thought is, if it’s covered under clothes, how would anyone know?
My second thought is, why are these men allowing their wives to tell them what they can or cannot do with their bodies? It’s their bodies, their life; they can do with it as they wish. Right?
If my friend wanted to quit his job just because he felt like it, then that’s different. He’s the sole breadwinner, and his family depends on him. But getting a tattoo shouldn’t change his wife’s love or appreciation for him. Right? He’s still the same person.
If my friend was single and wanted to quit his job, then he should. He has to live with the rewards or consequences of doing so, but he’s only affecting himself and not anyone else.
Isn’t getting a tattoo only affecting the person getting it?
It pisses me off that people try to tell others what to do. We live in a society of blending in. You wanna look good and be part of the right group of people? Wear the right clothes sold at the GAP. Have your hair this way. Talk right. Earn this much. Color within the lines.
You want a good job? Get a college degree. Really?
Steve Jobs never got one and look at where he is. Is he an exception? I don’t think so. In his lecture to Stanford’s 2005 graduates, he tells them that he’s always lived a life of passion, and followed it. For him, the incomprehensible dots that led him out of college and into that famous garage wasn’t planned, nor could he even see what they would lead to. Not until he arrived could he connect the dots looking back.
So live your life. Follow your passions. You’ll never know where they’ll lead you.
What is romance? And why are half of the books sold romance novels, trashy or otherwise? Is it indicative of women’s lack or need of it? Variety is the spice of life, so maybe they need different men as stated in Steve Harvey’s book.
I, being a macho, macho man, am stereotyped to not know the answer to this or any other thing about women. Oddly, this myth is not perpetuated by women, but by men. I can’t count how many times men in the media state they know nothing about women and never will. And if that were true, then freakin’ learn, dammit! Women certainly want us to, which may be why romance is so lucrative.
Having completed my first novel, I’ve been asked is there romance in it? I don’t know.
Hey! Have you seen this:
A man gathers his briefcase, closes his office door, enters an ambiguous, crowded elevator. Taking a deep breath, he looks at his Tag timekeeper, exits the sky scrapin’ building, and raises his hand.
A yeller taxi screeches. A radiant woman gets out, with hair from a high-priced salon wafts in the warm breeze, dressed in perfect fitted clothes, carrying a Burberry purse. Don’t ask me how I know that brand.
They’re eyes lock and the world comes to a startling but pleasurable halt. Her hair waves coyly at him. His stature postures over her like a gentle beast ready to pounce. Her eyes gaze ever so softly into his. She brushes her hair with the back of her hand.
What do we know and have been programmed to know from this cliche? A scene we’ve seen in countless movies, TV shows, books, plays, and commercials.
He is the it boy. She is the it girl. And by the massive powers of God, the universe, Shiva, Buddha, Geezus Krist, and the dominant iPhone with FaceTime, they’re meant for each other for all time, passed time, into infinity and beyond, and a little more.
Whew! I need a smoke.
Going back to the question, does my book have romance?
I didn’t know how to answer that question until I readRoger Ebert’s essay on Lost In Translation,starring Bill Murray and Scarlet Johansen, directed by Sofia Copola. In fact, I saw this in the theater years ago and didn’t know why I loved it until now.
In many ways, the movie starts out to be a cliche. A lonely man visits Japan. He runs into an equally lonely woman. They’re subtly attracted to each other, but by no means are they the it couple. He’s an older married man, she’s the younger married woman. I thought they were going to hit it off. A nice romp in the bed, some drama about his wife or her husband catching them, then a climatic ending where they both leave their respective spouses, and run toward each other as the waves splash onto the sandy beach.
Nope. The movie is about a deep connection between two people, which is probably why I loved it so much because I cherish deep connections.
Does my book have romance?
No. Not like the taxi example above. My story focuses on a married couple who has to contend with the death of their child. Then they have to contemplate the mortality of their other, who is called to duty when a looming war approaches.
My goal was to explore the pain of loss, the guilt one spouse places on the other, on oneself, and to explore war itself. It has been a painful and enlightening experience in the sense storytelling.
Many of us were severely limited by our parents. They were our world when we were born. Hell, we lived in out mothers for nine freakin months! Why wouldn’t we listen to them. They teach us how the world works, what’s good, what’s bad, and they unconsciously plant our initial view of ourselves, our self worth.
I ask you again: What is possible?
Can your dreams be attained? And who’s voice do you hear answering?
I was listening to Michael Neill, and he said throw out what’s possible. Because what’s possible is always laced with our limitations taught to us…
or impaled by us.
A better question: What do you want?
Dreaming of what we truly want can be indicated by the high energy we feel like going out with great friends, the anticipation of eating warm apple pie with a fresh scoop of vanilla ice cream, or lounging in the sun on Waikiki beach. That high energy can be a guide to what we desire in life.
Live out your imagination, not your history–Stephen R. Covey
Every man dies. Not every man really lives–William Wallace
Do you feel depressed or unhappy because that’s how you think you should feel?
I’d come across a method of getting rid of feelings of anxiety, which would eventually lead to great things that I wanted to create in my life. Who wouldn’t want that?
So I bought the book The Sedona Method, by Hale Dwoskin. It was a pretty easy read and the exercises were really simple. In recommending the book to my best friend, he’d got it but had one complaint.
“I wish the feeling of peace would last longer,” he said.
I agreed.
Then I was listening to one of my favorite speakers and author, Michael Neill, and he mentioned that most people felt any variance of unhappiness because they thought they should.
For example, if someone insulted you or cut you off while driving (man, I hate that) would you get angry? Want revenge (guilty)?
If you lost someone special, do you need to feel bad in order to mourn? Or can you mourn and feel at peace, or happy?
Maybe in some way we’re trained to feel unhappy. Bad thing happens, time to feel bad. Kinda like Pavlov’s dog. Or ever heard too much of a good thing is bad (religion anyone)? Don’t wanna feel too happy or else…what?
I don’t know. Happiness?
Then I realized that we practiced feeling not at peace that we got to be pretty goddamn good at it.
So when tools such as The Sedona Method comes along, we need to practice feeling happy, peaceful, instead of feeling unsatisfied that it didn’t work.
The iPhone 4 has come out and reviewers from techies such as PC World and financial papers such as The Wall Street Journal have given it two thumbs up.
But it may have one big flaw, or fraw as mother would say. The antenna being on the outside of the phone, making up the glass and metal casing, is causing reception issues when held in a certain way. How huge they are depends on the strength ot AT&T’s signal in that area.
There have been thousands upon thousands of angry complaints, one law suit filed, another on the way, and the Willy Wonka like CEO simply said not to hold it that way. There were simple solutions like buying a case, or bumper, or using scotch tape to relieve the issue. Which it does.
Has that stopped the complaints? No.
There are two basic choices. Keep it or return the damn phone.
I’m a huge fan of Apple and Steve Jobs. Jobs never graduated from college, but by following his heart, he had cofounded one of the most influential companies the world has seen. Many counted the phone maker out when Apple was a few months away from bankruptcy.Many wireless carriers denied Apple a chance when presented with their plans for the iPhone.Now, it’s a global phenom.
One of my friends waited nine hours for one. Geezus Kryst!
Despite the reception issue (it is a phone dammit), most iPhone 4 users, around two million at this point, will not return the phone but relagate to complaining. People put so much emphasis on the one negative and not see the massive positives and wonder why their lives suck.
One of the coolest things about all art is the interpretation. Debates go endlessly about movies, books, paintings, poems, sculptures. And who’s to say who’s right and who’s not when we can’t even agree what’s art and what isn’t.
In trying to get feedback on my book, I’ve been giving out copies to my friends and family to get initial reactions, both kneejerk and constructive. I had readers who are fans and non-fans of fantasy, which is my genre.
One of my readers stated that my main character was highly sexual and emotional. I wanted honest opinions and here we are!
My kneejerk reaction was of course to defend.
But I’m here to learn so I asked her question after question, trying to keep an open mind.
None of my other readers had mentioned any of this. And just in case they missed something my friend hadn’t, I asked one of them specifically about the above points.
Highly sexual was something that really surprised me. I asked her what made her think this. She said that my hero thought about his wife’s scent, was enamored by her silky hair, and in a key scene couldn’t sleep due to the absence of her breathing next to him. I asked another female reader what she thought about this without mentioning what my friend thought. She said my hero was in love with his wife that it was about love.
Who’s correct?
Both.
There’s a saying. What you hate in others is what you hate in yourself. When I look at the lives of these two women, I can see why both thought the way they did.
I’m not saying they hated my book, but often what we see in art is often a reflection of us, an aspect anyway. I mean, haven’t you listened to music that reflects how you feel in the moment? We listen to love songs, or angry alternative, when we’ve broken up with someone. Or listen to ambient music when we want to be calm. Or listen to heavy metal or techno when we’re working out.
And knowing how 50% of sold books are romance novels tells you what women are feeling or needing.
My friend’s second point, complaint really, about my hero being emotional was also interesting. For one, he is. It being a complaint is a judgement on the character. Kinda like saying someone being short is not good. It’s not their fault. My hero just turned out that way.
This brings us to the definition of art. First off, I don’t think it can be defined. It’s like defining the soul. Or God. You can’t. But a famed photographer once said that art is the language of the soul. Isn’t that where inspiration comes from?
But if you want to see a cool and heated debate of what art is, check out an articleRober Ebertwrote about how video games aren’t art.
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