Actions Speak Louder Than Words

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:

First AT&T said they weren’t worried.

Then they touted their one advantage over Verizon.

Next, CEO of AT&T hates on Apple’s app store.

Oh, hey. Since we at AT&T love our customers so much we decided to give you 1,000 minutes for free…if you have an iPhone.

Last but not least, AT&T quietly matched Verizon’s unlimited data plan, since Verizon offered it to new iPhone 4 customers.

What does all this say about AT&T? They’re worried.

Actions do speak much louder than words.

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.

About a year ago after a long writing session at Borders, I was about to leave. I walked by the magazine rack and saw an article onWIREDabout how the iPhone blew up. I began to read because my brother had given me one for Christmas when it first came out. Very generous of him.

The cool thing about it was how Steve Jobs, CEO of Apple, challenged the wireless carriers. Something that none of the cell phone makers were able to do.

According to the article, the carriers dictated what features could go on a handset, how it should operate and such. But Jobs probably had a dream: phone calls from an iPod.

I also think there were several carriers and industry experts that scoffed at the idea, thinking the market for that would be small. And the Blackberry was king of smartphones at the time.

Jobs went ahead with his idea, basing the iPhone on a concept model Apple made before.

When the iPhone first came out, it was met with great fanfare. The reviews were mixed and several features were missing that were found on more mediocre cell phones. But it became a hit.

On June 19th, this past Friday, I stood in line for the newest iteration, the iPhone 3GS. News reporters, Mac fans, and Apple store employees gathered to what looked like a small scaled Star Trek convention. People came in costume, others carried old Macs while in line, customers were interviewed, employees handed out water or juice bottles for those in line. It was really cool.

So what’s the point of this on a website that focuses on fantasy and individuality?

The iPhone was fantasy before it became real, and Jobs took on giants, namely the wireless carriers, and won. No one, not even RIM, makers of Crackberry (Blackberry), had changed the field as Apple did. Apple may be big, but in the scheme of things they’re tiny in comparison to those they took on.

Dream big, don’t listen to anyone who says you can’t, and go forth with action. Isn’t that what all great strories depict?

In my side story, the character, Noshee, was a cheater.  It’s part of his backstory.  If you’d like to read the side stories check them out here.

I’d talked to a friend about attraction.  In the context of marriage.  He’s been married for several years and loves his wife dearly.

One day he stood in a never ending line at Starbucks, totally submerged in his crackberry.  A woman bumped him from behind by accident and apologized.  My friend turned around, smiled, and said, “No problem.”

Her red lips widened, revealing her white teeth.  “Aren’t those addicting?”

“Ugh.  I can’t help but check my emails everytime my phone vibrates.”

The blond-haired lady took out her iPhone from her purse and waved it.  “Tell me about it.”

After receiving their coffees, they stood off to the side.  What happened next was a fury of non-sexual flirting.  My friend found himself cracking jokes.  She laughed and crinkled her nose.  He  listened to her personal stories of work life, egged her on with penetrating questions.   She noticeably became intrigued by him, not taking any notice of the morning sun glinting off his wedding band.

Interesting.

It wasn’t until he mentioned his wife did she withdraw and exclaimed she’d better not be late today.

Unlike my character, my friend didn’t follow through with his instincts.  But was he in the wrong for feeling attracted to the nice blond lady?  Most people would judge him in the wrong.  And for those who would dare judge him, he felt guilty.

Everybody gets up in morning, brushes their teeth, washes their face, fix their hair, applies makeup if you’re a woman, or a guy if you’re like that, puts on nice duds, maybe spritz some eau de toilette or parfum, and leave the house looking like a million bucks.  Lo and behold even married people do this.

Why?

“I wanna look nice.”

OK.  Why?

To look attractive.  What my friend did, by following his instincts to be attractive, to lure the woman in, is his way.  It’s always been  his way.  It’s how men through out our animal history have been.  We want to attract women.

Are women guilty of this?  Hell yeah!  Married or not, women love it when guys find them hot.  It makes them feel good.  It can help boost their confidence.  And I’d suggest they play along.  Have fun.  That’s why they have girls’ night out.  They want to be checked out in a protective environment among other hens, while the cocks, that’s roosters for you gutter-minded, prance around in heat.  Stalkers please keep out.

I told my friend not to feel guilty.  Guilt, something I explore at length in my book, is a victim emotion.  That is left for another post.  His instinct of  feeling attractive, to want to talk to other women, is an ingrained behavior.  That’s how his greatest of grandfathers, the Geico caveman, spread his genes.  The human side, the conscious side of our minds, shouldn’t follow through with an affair, like Noshee did.

In the end, my friend went home with a surprise bouquet of bright red tulips.  He realized through his guilt that he loved his wife, appreciated the home they’ve built and got it on.  Actually, I don’t know if he got it on.