In the documentary Spielberg on Spielberg, Spielberg said his main job was to connect his audience to his films.

I’d say that’s the job of every artist who wants their work to be seen by the world.  How do you do that?

Chinese Connection.  Sorry.  Had a Bruce Lee moment.

Emotional connection.

Underdog stories are very emotional.  All of us can relate because at some point we’ve been the underdog.  I’m working on becoming a published author.  I feel like underdog.

An artist’s initial job is to feel.  Seems obvious, right?

I’ve asked people about how they felt when they watched a movie, read a book, seen a photograph.  What’s the most common answer?

I don’t know.

Feel yourself out (get your mind out of the guttah).

Whenever something moves you, ask yourself why it moves you.  If something doesn’t move you, then ask why.  The answers will amaze you.  When I started acting, my teachers always said my body was the instrument.  Use it.  Feel it.  Live it.

Forever moments.

Every year the carnival comes to town.  They’ve been coming since I was a kid.  One year I took my girlfriend at the time and bought a ride-till-you-throw-up pass.  We rode all of the stomach churning rides.  Walked through exhibits like the double headed rubber rat (huh?), a wax figure of a fat bearded lady (what?), and a pickled snake with mutant feet (a lizard?).  Then our nerves were tried at the haunted house.  Only half the stuff worked.  A vampire ain’t that scary when it can barely pop out of its coffin.  We talked to carnies.  Many of them stared at my ex through their good eye.

There were two things that I remember most.  It was her first time at a carnival, and she was excited.  Every time she got excited her voice would rise, and she’d sound like a little girl.  Despite the jungle of carnival noise, her voice sounded like music.  Touched me like no other voice has touched me.  Yes, I was in love.

She’d never eaten carnie food, so I bought a tray full.  As we dug in, she wanted a bite of my corn dog.  I dipped it in mustard and she took a bite.   “Mmmm,” she said.  In that forever moment, all I remembered was sharing that corn dog.  There was one more bite left.  So I let her have it.

I read something in her eyes.  I got up and bought another dog on a stick.  Another forever moment strolled by as we shared in the goodness.

And every year the carnival comes to town, the sound of her voice and the forever moment sharing the corn dog permeates my mind.

My mom and I went to a restaurant one time.  The hostess sat us at a small side table.  Sheer drapes were drawn to shade us from the afternoon sun.  Old Chinese ladies rolled aluminum carts of dim sum.  Since my Cantonese wasn’t great, my mom ordered.  We made small talk as we enjoyed good food and the warm sun.  My mom kept my tea cup filled and continued to order dim sum.  She wanted me fat.  Still does.  When the bill came she pulled out an old leather coin purse, and popped it open.  She meticulously counted each bill and each coin and made sure there was enough tip.  She looked at me and giggled, asking me if I’d had enough to eat.  I shook my head.  That day has become one of my favorite birthdays.

Forever moments.

I saw Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince. And with the slew of good to raving reviews that are out there, I’m not going to add to it.  Now, for you Potter fans, I’m not here to say how good or bad it is.  I love stories and always ask myself why I like certain stories in comparison to why I don’t.

I liked this one, based on Harry’s sixth year at Hogwarts.

J.K. Rowling has said in many interviews that the books would get darker, and this one, with the death of a main character, is definitely dark.

One other series I’ve been obsessed with are the Matrix movies.  The first one was a sleeper hit.  Every one loved it, critics and fans.  But once the sequels hit theaters, despite its financial success, not many really liked them.

And I think I know why.

With both Potter and Matrix sequels going toward dark, why did one do and feel well, while the other just felt monotone?

Humor.

The sixth movie had enough humor to bring the laughs all the way up to the climax.  The climax was the darkest part of the whole movie, so the laughs ended.  Makes sense.

Matrix had humor and sarcasm.  There were also different types of characters. One wished they didn’t take the red pill, another would pimp out a virtual girl, then there was one guy half black, half Asian who was enthusiastic, etc.  Those characters contrasted the war that was going on.

With both the Matrix sequels, there was no humor at all, no characters with color.  That’s why to me it felt monotone.  People will say that Neo and his crew were fighting a losing war.  But Harry and crew are fighting what seems to be a losing war, too.

Laughs.

Now the question becomes why laughs are needed in a dark movie?

I was talking to a coworker who is an avid churchgoer.  We were talking about perspectives on life, and I asked him what he thought about the world.  His response was this is a fallen world.  Then I told him mine, which of course is prettyPollyanish.

He countered with, “Then why is there so much suffering in this world?”

I imagined him and his choir of religious heathens eating this fallen view of the world and answered, “Because in order to have light, you must have dark.”

I personally don’t like it but understand the philosophical side.

In story, humor is not just a good release of tension.  It also contrasts the dark, making the dark darker when the dark comes.  As the story works toward its dark climax, we feel even darker as the dark falls upon us.  Which is the exact purpose of the sixth Potter movie.

A pet peeve of mine is people not listening to each other when they talk.  It’s one thing if passersby just greet each other.  But it’s another thing when I talk to a friend, and the next time I talk to them I have to repeat what I told them last time.  Weren’t you listening to me?  And if you weren’t interested, then why do you ask what I’ve been up to.  In listening to other people, I can tell who’s listening and who is only hearing.

Want to be more charismatic with people?  Listen.  It’s one of the biggest complaints women have of men.  But when I talk to women, a lot of them don’t listen.  And they wonder why guys don’t listen to them.

A couple of days ago I was in the lunch room.  Three ladies were sitting at a table.  A feast spread in front.  I was listening to them talk.  I do this a lot.  As a former student of acting, and now an author, I listen to people speak, toreadthem.  It’s a great way to learn what natural dialogue sounds like.  I’ve heard industry professionals theorize endlessly about natural dialogue, but just listening to others is the best way.  The best way to learn a new language is to submerge yourself in it.

But here’s another pet peeve of mine:

Lady #1:  Your son. He worked on Sunday?

Lady #2:  Well, you know, he, uh, you know, like, he works on Sundays, you know.

Lady #1:  Why?

Lady #2:  You know, he, you know, like, gets paid more, you know, um, Sundays. He even like, uh, worked on Mother’s day. You know? (laughs)

I can’t stand filler words.  I use them.  But not like that.  It was like watching the adult channel through all the fuzz because I wasn’t subscribed to it.  And this lady was in her fifties.  The above is exactly how she spoke.

One thing that authors have to keep in mind as we write dialogue is where the person comes from.  When researching for a character, there are several things that will affect their speech:  occupation, gender, age, culture, education, quirks, passions.  The list could go on and on, which can make writers go crazy trying to figure out speech patterns.  Lucky for us that 90% or more of speech is the same for everyone.

Dude #1:  Hey, wassup?  What you been up to?

Dude #2:  Man! Long time. Uh, not much. Just pluggin’ away, hangin’ out, terrorizing chics.

Dude #1:  Aw dude. I got this one chic…

The dialogue is fairly normal until the dudes rudely call women chics (wink), but a lot of guys do that.  But scenes aren’t made up of these normal everyday things.  Scenes usually get heated with conflict, tension, suspension.  So if we look at two guys who’re betting against each other, ten thousand dollars on the line on a basketball game, they’ll not only use lingo that pertains to basketball.  Their speech will get excited as the teams battle back and forth.

Heed the endless babbling of industry professionals as they theorize about dialogue.  But it’s way better and much more fun listening to others.  Read them.  Create mini stories as you listen.  I do this every day.

If you want to learn specific techniques about dialogue, check outBeyond Structure.

In researching warrior societies for my book, a commonality is they started training at preadolescence.  There weren’t any real exceptions for good reason.  All of thesocietiesI focused on stemmed from hundreds to thousands of years ago where men had to protect or fight for what they had.

Native Americans had to protect their villages.  Scots fought for their land and freedom during the English occupation.  Samurai fought for their warlords during Japan’s monarchy.  Spartons threw their young into the agoge to become Greece’s special forces.

Life was treacherous.  As a result, fighting became a necessity.

But do you have to start at a young age to be good at anything?  It seems that a lot of successful people of today started their endeavors when they were children.  Michael Jackson is a good example.  The turn out for his remembrance is a tribute to his passion and hard work.  But look at the other brothers.  What happened to them?

What about the colonel?  That’s right.  The man who made fried chicken a staple in America?  Did he start frying poultry when he was young?  He had a variety of jobs that had little to do with flightless birds.  It wasn’t until his late forties that he started a cafe, and his fried chickens had become popular.  Then at the ripe young age of sixty six did he start selling franchises, which of course spawned the empire all chickens fear today.

The Ultimate Fighting Championship is about to have its 100th pay per view show this weekend.  The heavyweight champion, Brock Lesnar, started to train how to fight just a few years ago.  It’s fair to say that a lot of great fighters on the UFC roster started when they were young.  And Lesnar is highly talented as an athlete.  But the one thing the UFC has proven over and over again is talent and experience has little to do with winning.  More than hard work, it’s a mindset forged under the heat of severe competition.

For Lesnar to become the heavyweight champion in four fights, which is amazing in its own right, he had to overcome some very experienced and gifted fighters.  In listening to his many interviews, he always knew his unproven ability to win, worked extremely hard, and approached both his fights and training with an intelligence that some heavyweights ignored.  A lot of them relied on their weight and size to prevail.

He scoffed at critics who said he was too green for the sport of mixed martial arts, that he needed experience before he could even challenge the prior champion, and, despite his explosiveness and size, knew he had to learn quickly with a furious pace.

Is it ever too late to start anything?

Yes.  When you’re dead.

Yesterday I was fortunate enough to be invited on a friend’s yacht. I was talking about my book to an acquaintance. We were talking about one of the most basic elements of a good story.

Disasters.

I told her that disasters occur at the end of most scenes. And if a scene did end on a positive note, a win for our hero, a disaster would quickly follow.

She was taken aback. And she’s well read. “Pollyanna is boring,” she said.

Now, I was surprised she didn’t know this. Because I took this basic story element for granted. All good writers know this, however.

So why am I posting this? Because I spend so much time hiding writing techniques, making sure different story elements work undercover like a secret agent.

When you watch an Olympic ice skater perform, you don’t see every single technique, the thousands of hours of practice, and the relentless coaching. What you see is greatness.

Not that I want to neglect the practice of making my writing seamless, effortless. But people are totally more concerned with a story being good. Whether they can see the technique used, doesn’t matter. Does your story have passion? Heart?

I read an interview of top editors from different major publishing houses. They said one of the worst things they faced were stories that were technically written well, but lacked heart. At that point they couldn’t tell the writer what to do.

Ask yourself. What is the purpose of your story? What is the message you’re trying to convey?

Take Matrix. The message is simple. Anything is possible if you believe in yourself.

One of the biggest things my character has to deal with is judgement from the people he serves to protect. They don’t realize what he’s doing is protecting them from a Hitleresque fate.

I was at the gym and saw this girl. Cute. Then it happened. “Her eyes are too Asian,” I said to myself.

Huh?

First off every one is perfect in their own way. It’s why there isn’t a perfect cherry blossom. No such thing. Because every blossom is perfect (From The Last Samurai). This applies to humans as well. Once we start comparing one to another is when this Eastern way of looking at things deteriorates.

When I was practicing crap martial arts, see my bio, we were given a special treat. Our teacher brought in a Chinese Kung Fu teacher to teach us a Chinese form. A form is a series of martial art movements against imaginary opponents. By the way, that in itself is not the best way to learn how to fight. And what makes a form Chinese? The slantiness of the movement?

As my friend and I practiced the form–we’re both Chinese–we were marvelling at how different the movement was from the daily crap that we practiced. Keep in mind I didn’t know I was studying crap martial arts till I was awakened.

One of the supervising instructors came to us and said, “You’re too Chinese,” referring to our movement.

My friend and I looked at each other. Then looked at our non-Chinese supervising teacher.

“Nooooo,” I said. “Wouldn’t want to be too Chinese.” Were our eyes extra slanty?

Everbody knows not to be judgemental. Even those who are aware of why can place judgement on others. We are after all human. It’s the conscious practice of being non-judgemental that’s important. Not the mistakes of when we are. But if you’re not aware that judgement is wrong, is the person still to blame?

I can’t say. And neither does the hero of my book. So what does he do? Continues to serve despite the hate he gets from doing so.

In Bruce Lee’s only filmed interview he was asked if he wanted to be thought of as Chinese or a North American. He was born in San Francisco. He said he wanted to be thought as a human being.

Here’s an experiment: Spend an hour without placing judgement on others. If you do, no problem. Just start the hour over. See how long you can do it.

A lot of teachers and instructors of story talk about tension and suspense. But they seem to accompany that with conflict. And conflict is pretty simple: want vs obstacles.

When I attended David Freeman’s Beyond Structure weekend seminar he explained tension and suspense the best: What happens next.

Think about it. You know that scene when the lone girl opens the door to the downstairs basement. A guttural sound grates against the darkness.

A normal person would be like, “Oh, hell no.” Then slams the door locked.

But that’s no fun.

The girl slowly places her foot down on the first step. It creaks. She dips her head but can’t see through the darkness. She takes another step. Something below shuffles around. The step creaks as she takes another step.

Why is she doing this?!

Then we realize the steps are the split kind. The kind where someone can reach through and grab her ankles. I hate those! Every step she takes we see it from behind the stairs. Is someone or something going to grab her?

She continues down and is now in the bowels of the basement. That same guttural sound emanates from a black corner.

What she gonna do?

She heads for it.

What?

“Yargh!” Her little brother jumps out and says, “You’re it!”

Something similar happened to me this morning. I was taking the train to work. The smell of body odor permeated the seats, people were stuffed into every square inch of the train, a baby cried somewhere upfront. The train stopped and a rush of people offboarded. A flood of morning fresh air washed in.

Then a stale smell like jeans that had been worn for six
months turned my nose. I looked up and a guy in what I describe as rags for sweatpants and a dirty hoodie stepped onboard. He had fingerless black cotton gloves. Face was shiny. He started singing, badly.

The doors closed and the train headed toward the city.

He saw the baby that cried earlier, walked over to him and his mother, and started baby talk in Spanish. He took out what looked like curly, shiny barbed wire without the barbs. And as he sang he straightened it. Cotton gloves seemed to protect him from cuts. The wire got longer and longer. His vigorousness made the wire swing above the baby, close to the mother. The mother turned her back to him, grabbed a hold of a handle, a quiet attempt to shield her baby boy.

The guy continued to straighten it, and the sharp wire shook over the stroller. Then he straightened one section, holding it as if to strangle someone. The train shook, and he stomped toward the mother to gain his balance, wire in hand. He looked down at the baby and spoke Spanish again, wire in hand. Mother still had her back to him. Every one snuck peaks at the scene. He started to straighten the wired as it got longer, it got closer to the stroller, to the mother.

The train stopped. Door slid open. And the man stepped off the train. Every one breathed a sigh of relief. Except a girl who got up because she had to get off at the same stop. She dragged her feet out.

That was intense because I wasn’t sure why he was straightening the wire, or if he was just going to go postal and strangle someone.

In both the made up scene and what happened this morning the tension came from wondering what was going to happen next. Conflict, in story terms, didn’t exist.

Transformers, more than meets the eyes. Transformers, robots in disguise.

I loved that show. The cartoon movie after the original TV show ended got critical acclaim. Watch it. You’ll see why.

I love movies. I’ll watch anything from mindless blockbusters to sappy, chick movies.

But here’s the thing. I’ve listened to teachers of story, and those who teach writers of screenplays state one truth: The talent out there is amazing.

Really?

Sam Witwicky is the main character. His character arc is…wait for it…wait for it…committing and saying he loves Megan Fox. I understand not making yourself totally available to a girl, but common!

Then for him to be able to vow his love to this girl 20 million tons of robots have to fight eah other, military soldiers die, a famed Autobot dies, attempted assassination on his life, and being brought back to life from the brink of death.

Huh?

None of the other characters go through any change. Am I missing something? Well the girl vows her love, too. And, yes, I enjoyed it as entertainment.

But shouldn’t that be a subplot?

Now, I’m not a screenwriter, nor do I have an interest in it, but I think there’s still room for great screenwriters. As the saying goes, “There’s always room at the top.”

How do you read people? Go with your gut.

What more is there?  Body language.  It’s said that at least 80% of what people say is through body language.  And in fact, people intuitively read body language.  They may not be conscious of it.

If someone is assertive, their posture is straight, chest out, shoulders back, head craned like a flamingo.

What if someone slumps, hesitates to look you in the eye, crosses their arms, and even angles their body away?  Could be signs of deception, signs of low self worth or esteem.  With everything remaining the same, but you add the characteristics of someone who’s assertive, then we can assume that person simply doesn’t find you attractive.  Or they can be looking for someone and just doesn’t see you.  Or they may be angry because someone stood them up.

But when reading people, I tend to go with my gut.  I do this with women.  Friends of mine have tried to set me up on blind dates.  The problem with that is within the first minute I can tell whether I have a connection with the woman or not.  And I’m old enough to realize the difference between lust and like.  Lust for men is pretty obvious.  Let’s just say feelings toward the woman I’m in lust for don’t originate anywhere within my chest.  And my eyes will most likely be focused on hers.

It sucks when I don’t feel a connection.  Cuz I gots to talks to her.  Kinda like talking to a blank wall.  I’m sure it’s the same for her.

Most people can’t seem to read people.  Why is that?  Have they lost that special power?  Can anyone read people?  First off, any human can read another human, unless said human doesn’t want to be read.  And you can lose that power by mistrust.  Whose trust?

Going with your gut means that you have to trust yourself.  Do you?  Well…do you need or ask others for their approval or opinion?  Read my post onGo with your gut. It’ll give you an example of how I seeked approval outside of myself.

The way to practice this is by people watching.  Sit in a mall.  As a person walks by, let your mind create a story.  And trust that it’s true, no matter how strange.  If you want to take a step further, go up and talk to them.  See how close your story came.

A better way of doing this is bring a friend.  My best friend and I used to do this a lot.  Most of the time we came up with the same story.  If our stories didn’t match, then we’d discuss why we read what we read.

Writing the emotions of different characters can take the form of telling:  He’s mad.  It can take the form of action:  He slammed his cup down.  It can take the form of body language:  She shoved him off and turned away.  Or it can take the form of dialogue:  “Get off me!”

Oooh.  Too much information.

Actors people watch a lot.  When I studied acting, I spent a lot of time people watching.  Now, I use that resource in my writing.  Because if you communicate emotion through just one way–telling, action, body language, dialogue–it can get boring.  Combining different ways allows for character development and variety.

Most important of all, trust yourself.  As kids, parents tell us ‘No’, ‘Do this’, ‘Do that’.  As a result, we’ve become reliant on others.  Rely on yourself, open your mind, and let the stories come about.  You may be surprised.

A couple of years ago I injured my shoulder.  I don’t know how but assumed it happened at the gym.  My rotator cuff hurt severely when I did any type of chest exercise.

It sucked.

I was used to benching a certain amount of weight, but had to cut it by more than 50%.  I can tell you my ego didn’t like it one bit.  I still wanted to workout and knew how to rehab my shoulder.  Within a couple of weeks, my ego agreed to the necessary decreased weight.  But with every gym session I added 2.5 pounds to my bench.  Eventually, I lost track of how much weight I benched and focused on keeping healthy, writing, working, etc.

Several months later, I noticed I was benching a lot more weight than I’d had in my life.  And I workout by myself.  I can’t find a training partner that has a similar schedule to mine.  This taught me something.

Small adjustments can add up.

Writing theEpisodeshasn’t yielded the audience I was expecting.  That was my first mistake, expecting.  But the audience has grown little by little, even though not all vote.  Despite my desire to bring fame and fortune to my book, I realized something.  My disappointment always vanished when I sat down to write.  My heartbreak wilted when I went to the gym.  My love for story, my love for writing, my love and gratitude for the imagination given to me is precious.

Every day I take steps toward my wants and desires.  Every day I do my best to release my expectations by doing the things I love, andexpressing myself honestly.Every day I go to my day job knowing that I’m providing for my ability to live my night job (job is totally the wrong word here).  Every day small adjustments will be made because small adjustments make a huge difference towardsuccess.