Hey, look at me! I managed one post for the entire month of March. I'm getting better.
These have just been very busy times. Spend half my time feeling disgusted at the rampant misogyny that the Republicans have decided to base their whole platform on. Spend the other half disgusted with how any white guy who kills a black guy is apparently now afforded protection by the cops, Jim Crow-style. The . 01% of my time not occupied by disgust I devote to different jobs/workshops, alongside getting my thesis together and Hard Times. The thesis is the most pressing thing at the moment, seeing as my revision's due next week. I also graduate in two months and I'm trying to get things in order for The Real World (not that obnoxious reality show we watched in high school, but the real kind). I've been applying for teaching jobs the last few months and have stomached my fair share of rejection.
One place that didn't reject me: the UL-Lafayette PhD program. I got in! I got in!! PhD in Creative Writing. Can you imagine? Dr. Elwin. They were a top choice and I could not be more excited. Now is the time to start dialoguing with folks over there about possibilities for me in their program.
One part that excites me is the language requirement. I want to relearn Spanish and here is a golden opportunity. But just getting to study under profs like Kate Bernheimer and devote the next four years to my craft while teaching...it's all golden. And thanks go out to all the people who wrote references for me and endured my constantly grumbling about how life is so hard because I'm working on doctoral apps. You know who you are.
Writing Without Walls
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rkm7sH734CA&feature=BFa&list=PLBEA67F99608FE867&lf=plcp
I keep telling myself to start recording my readings, so it's always nice when somebody just has a camera set up. Dig my Powell's shirt. Dig how I can't take my eyes off the paper. Keep the reading to ten minutes? Bah!
A few weeks ago I submitted to the St. Patrick's Day edition of Writing Without Walls. It's a cross-bay reading series ran by someone I went to Mills with. The series is still in its infancy and has already done an impressive set of readings. I submitted a luck-themed short story and they told me to come of down. On St. Patrick's Day, me and my lady crossed the Bay to attend the reading at Sacred Grounds Cafe.
Writing Without Walls is right. The venue being closed when I got there? Not so impressive. A bunch of the readers standing on top of a mountain in San Francisco, outside of a closed cafe, and though I found somewhere to go to the bathroom after holding it all the way across that mile-long bridge I did not like standing in the wintry cold. The nail salon lady next-door assured us that the venue is usually closed by this time. She checked on the back door, found it to be padlocked, and encouraged us all to go home before we caught cold. It looked like there would be no reading. This irritated me. I figured it high time to drive back to my friend's St. Paddy's Day party.
The organizers showed up and were equally miffed with this development. Despite some people's insistence that we find a bar in the Haight to get smashed in, the MC set about trying to find a last-minute venue. Nice guy. He thought of taking the thing to the CCA campus, which would have been a bit of a drive, then somebody suggested just going to this one guy's house. By now there's a crowd of people standing in the cold. We put a note on the door, formed a train, walked six blocks to the guy's house and had a literary event. I have to say I was impressed. I've met event organizers who would have called off the whole thing. While it felt like an eternity, they got a new spot together in 45 minutes, and the reading was well-attended, which means they did good promo. I would have hated for all those people to have to just go back to their homes and/or get smashed somewhere. Not when they could be getting smashed at my reading, which took place in this guy's home.
Good reading, too. Really nice blend of serious and humorous (Yours Truly, of course, provided teh seriouz). Check out the other videos, as well.
I've been getting the performance/travel bug something awful lately. Maybe it's that restlessness that's giving me such bad insomnia. There's a lot to get done before I think of touring, like finishing my book and the audiobook. Lately I've felt really inclined toward an Elvenslaughter 2012: The Apocalypse. I'm thinking of how I can work that into my summer plans. ARGH BRAIN! Stop having so many ideas!
BTW, I'm really happy with that piece I read for Writing Without Walls, which is the start of something longer. Delta blues is the music of outlaws. Quite literally, in some cases. This powerful music, which was the "country CNN" as much as gangsta rap was the "ghetto CNN," eventually mutated into a myth about black virility that inspired the misogynist cock-fest we call rock-'n-roll. Oh sure, it's gotten better in the last few years, but rock's foundations were basically some white guy saying, "Look at that black guy playing the guitar. I wish my penis was as big as his. I wish I wasn't feeling so alienated now that I don't have fascists to fight and machines do everything for me. Maybe I should play guitar. Except I'll play it slower, because man, that picking looks like a lot of work." Cue birth of a new genre.
And when I say outlaw, I mean cultural. Committing crimes against social norms. Imagine being a black man in Mississippi around the 1920s. You were expected to work the fields and keep your eyes low when white people passed. You were expected to be a God-fearing Christian who only broke out music in church. You were expected to raise a family to take up your sharecrop debts and die. If you were a black woman, well, your body was basically the property of others; you were a maid, a wetnurse, a rape victim, a brood mare. Those who sang the blues would have none of this.
It was black people with a music, subject matter, and lifestyle completely opposite to what was expected of them. So opposite that, when it made white radio in the '50s, America was scared shitless. Niggers smoking dope and singing about sex and poverty and other shit we don't want to hear? Oh my god! They're corrupting our youth! The blues was not only a musical movement, but a cultural one.
Here's a link to the Writing Without Walls journal that has my piece. Like I said, some good stuff in there. They have a print version, too, for all you print snobs. http://www.amazon.com/Writing-without-Walls-March-ebook/dp/B007JX0T7K/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1333137080&sr=8-1
And that makes two posts for the month of March. I'm on a role.
Friday, March 30, 2012
Thursday, March 22, 2012
Chapter 74: In Which I Discuss Agents and Borrowers
First off, big congrats to my friends Madeleine Barnes and Michelle Geck! They both got full scholarships to the Skidmore workshop this summer and I could not be happier for them. As far as writing workshops go, it's the top of top-tier.
Speaking of workshops, I applied to this year's Clarion. Should hear back from them soon as to whether I got in. Until then, I will continue to be that guy who hangs around extremely talented writers.
Recently pitched my work to an agent. Mills has an annual "meet with agents" conference called Pitchfest that I was encouraged to attend. So I put on a suit, went down, hung out for an hour eating cookies and then met with an agent. I'm sure it went awesome for some people, but I was not necessarily in a shilling mood. What was there to pitch? I brought the first few pages of Motley & Plume Players, a manuscript that is not finished, and stumbled and mumbled my way through my fifteen-minute meeting. Had no idea how to talk up the book, or even discuss it coherently. The agent was nice and told me to send the manuscript to her when it is finished and edited. Which will be around two years from now. I told her I would.
So anyway, eh. I talked to some friends who felt really optimistic about their meetings, so that's something. Looking for agents will eventually be paramount, as I'm sure major firms don't accept unsolicited manuscripts. I'll worry about that once I have a novel to publish.
Speaking of workshops, I applied to this year's Clarion. Should hear back from them soon as to whether I got in. Until then, I will continue to be that guy who hangs around extremely talented writers.
Recently pitched my work to an agent. Mills has an annual "meet with agents" conference called Pitchfest that I was encouraged to attend. So I put on a suit, went down, hung out for an hour eating cookies and then met with an agent. I'm sure it went awesome for some people, but I was not necessarily in a shilling mood. What was there to pitch? I brought the first few pages of Motley & Plume Players, a manuscript that is not finished, and stumbled and mumbled my way through my fifteen-minute meeting. Had no idea how to talk up the book, or even discuss it coherently. The agent was nice and told me to send the manuscript to her when it is finished and edited. Which will be around two years from now. I told her I would.
So anyway, eh. I talked to some friends who felt really optimistic about their meetings, so that's something. Looking for agents will eventually be paramount, as I'm sure major firms don't accept unsolicited manuscripts. I'll worry about that once I have a novel to publish.
Mills recently hit me with a thousand dollar bill out of nowhere. This is highly frustrating, since I took out the exact amount of loans needed to cover the costs. Or at least I thought I did. Mills never bothered to tell me because they don't stress about small amounts of money, until such point when the student is about to graduate and they want it now. I don't know why the fuss. If I don't pay I don't get a degree, so they hold all the cards. I refuse to take out anymore loans and will just have to conjure the money somehow. One more thing to deal with. It's amazing how the most pressing matters almost ALWAYS come out of left field.
People ask me if grad school was worth it and nowadays I answer honestly: I don't know. Everything about Mills is colored by an exorbitant tuition coupled with the lack of aid to pay for it. No class, no matter how well-taught, will at the moment feel like it justifies 70 grand. Right now I'm looking at moving from the Bay again, because trying to last on my savings in such a terrible job market will not work. So I tell people that I absolutely need a year or two of hindsight in order to assess what I got from Mills, other than the degree.
I'm sure I come across as cynical sometimes, and there's a lot to be cynical about. Overall, I think grad school has put me in a positive place. It's the only time I've been able to put writing as the center of my life. At every other point, the art has been something I've had to prioritize alongside things like work or social justice or general studies. The last two years in general have revolved around brainstorming, working on pieces, researching for them, scheduling readings, participating in workshops, and working to meet deadlines. I specifically took the time to focus on creative writing and that's what I've been doing. Like all things Edenic, it won't last. In fact, it will be over in two months. But it's been a good time.
The Secret World of Arrietty
I saw The Secret World of Arrietty recently. If you don't know, that's the new Studio Ghibli film, an adaptation of The Borrowers. People keep adapting that book. Perhaps I should read it.
Beautiful movie. Absolutely stunning, especially the way they blend image and music. It's about Arrietty, a 14-year-old girl who's only a few inches tall. She lives in the basement of a house and is a Borrower, a race of tiny people who "borrow" everything they need from humans (or "Beans" as she calls them). The movie deals with her burgeoning friendship with Sean, a human boy who is very ill, and her family's sudden need to move because humans have discovered them.
Beautiful movie. Absolutely stunning, especially the way they blend image and music. It's about Arrietty, a 14-year-old girl who's only a few inches tall. She lives in the basement of a house and is a Borrower, a race of tiny people who "borrow" everything they need from humans (or "Beans" as she calls them). The movie deals with her burgeoning friendship with Sean, a human boy who is very ill, and her family's sudden need to move because humans have discovered them.
Movies like this are why animation exists. It's a quiet, patient movie, and is all about images and atmosphere. Just what would it be like to be so small? I loved the way they use sound to create a feeling of Arrietty's world, where a ticking clock or rainfall is magnified huge in her ears. The whoosh of Sean's hand as it descends to pick up Arrietty. I love the way they use scale to make a scavenger crow seem like the most giant, menacing creature in the world. I love the design of her house where everything is made from discarded human things like coins and stamps and nails. Just such wonderful worldbuilding. The part where Arrietty accompanies her dad on her first borrowing is worth the price of admission. And on that note, the soundtrack is full of lovely songs that I just had to youtube after I got out the theatre. It provides a perfect compliment to the visuals.
And there's a sadness to the film. Arrietty's family suspects they are the last Borrowers left. Others of their kind have fallen victim to humans. Their existence is a lonely one. They are vulnerable and scared and very distrustful of humans, and they have reason to be. Unlike other fairy folk who have that connection to nature, they are just as distrustful of animals. They know a rat or crow would like to gnaw on them. The plot reminded me of The Secret of Nimh, with the family moving to new place. It's within this desperate situation that Arrietty meets her first friend.
I've always adored the way Ghibli handles love. Except for Howl's Moving Castle, Miyazaki himself never dealt with romantic love between two adults. But his studio understands the feelings that young people have for each other can be just as intense as when they get older. Sean and Arrietty have these feelings, but she's moving, and she's distrustful, and he has a bad hard, and their different species, and their friendship is just so fleeting. Even as they get closer, they're really moving farther apart. That doesn't make their team-up any less beautiful.
It's rare for me to see such a well-done, character-based cartoon. This is not Hayao Miyazaki, but directed by a young Ghibli ingenue, and was apparently very popular in Japan. To think that a secondary Ghibli production has this level of love behind it is mind-boggling. It's just inspiring.
Which brings me to...the trailers.
I'm not the type of otaku to poop on all American film, but...goddamn. Arrietty proves that you don't need constant action and dumb jokes to make a captivating children's film. They did it with compelling characters and artistry. And what do they put before it? The new Madagascar movie, Mirror Mirror Chimpanzee, and DreamWorks' bastardization of Dr. Seuss' The Lorax.
I felt like I was sitting through that shit for an hour.
And there's a sadness to the film. Arrietty's family suspects they are the last Borrowers left. Others of their kind have fallen victim to humans. Their existence is a lonely one. They are vulnerable and scared and very distrustful of humans, and they have reason to be. Unlike other fairy folk who have that connection to nature, they are just as distrustful of animals. They know a rat or crow would like to gnaw on them. The plot reminded me of The Secret of Nimh, with the family moving to new place. It's within this desperate situation that Arrietty meets her first friend.
I've always adored the way Ghibli handles love. Except for Howl's Moving Castle, Miyazaki himself never dealt with romantic love between two adults. But his studio understands the feelings that young people have for each other can be just as intense as when they get older. Sean and Arrietty have these feelings, but she's moving, and she's distrustful, and he has a bad hard, and their different species, and their friendship is just so fleeting. Even as they get closer, they're really moving farther apart. That doesn't make their team-up any less beautiful.
It's rare for me to see such a well-done, character-based cartoon. This is not Hayao Miyazaki, but directed by a young Ghibli ingenue, and was apparently very popular in Japan. To think that a secondary Ghibli production has this level of love behind it is mind-boggling. It's just inspiring.
Which brings me to...the trailers.
I'm not the type of otaku to poop on all American film, but...goddamn. Arrietty proves that you don't need constant action and dumb jokes to make a captivating children's film. They did it with compelling characters and artistry. And what do they put before it? The new Madagascar movie, Mirror Mirror Chimpanzee, and DreamWorks' bastardization of Dr. Seuss' The Lorax.
I felt like I was sitting through that shit for an hour.
There were also trailers for Pirates: Band of Misfits and Brave. Neither preview set my world on fire, but Aardman and Pixar will always get benefit of the doubt from me. Their the modern dreammakers and I trust them.
But the rest of that crap? To their credit, they finally cobbled together a Lorax preview that mentioned deforestation among the cutesy short jokes. The Julia Roberts movie looked like an old Cannon Movie Tale. Madagascar? Sometimes I wonder if these people actually like being filmmakers. Like, do they genuinely enjoy making test market-ready nonsense?
You can be commercial and still make art. Pixar's done it for twenty years. Their standard of quality is so high that even a cash grab like Cars 2 has something worth watching. Which is why the previews pissed me off. They looked awful and pandering. And there's no excuse.
It's like when Jim Cornette trashes hardcore wrestling. Would you rather be doing beautiful displays of athleticism in front of 30000 people, or would you rather be maiming yourself for the pleasure of 30 drunk troglodytes? It's the same thing. Would you rather be Madagascar or Arrietty? Would you rather make something that will stand the test of time or something disposed of when these kids reach puberty? Art is a gift. Don't waste it.
You can be commercial and still make art. Pixar's done it for twenty years. Their standard of quality is so high that even a cash grab like Cars 2 has something worth watching. Which is why the previews pissed me off. They looked awful and pandering. And there's no excuse.
It's like when Jim Cornette trashes hardcore wrestling. Would you rather be doing beautiful displays of athleticism in front of 30000 people, or would you rather be maiming yourself for the pleasure of 30 drunk troglodytes? It's the same thing. Would you rather be Madagascar or Arrietty? Would you rather make something that will stand the test of time or something disposed of when these kids reach puberty? Art is a gift. Don't waste it.
Sunday, February 26, 2012
Chapter 73: In Which I Discuss a Very Important Moment For Me
I told myself that February is the month I get my Hard Times manuscript together. This is in-between searching for jobs for after I graduate (preferably overseas), working on an anthology submission, and working on a PhD app. Times like this I feel kind of glad to be small press. The expectations I have for myself aren't any lower, but good god, I don't envy someone like George R.R. Martin, trying to get together a quality story that MILLIONS of people are waiting on. That's a lot of pressure. At this point, I've probably blown as many deadlines as he did. But I keep telling myself: don't stress too much. I write about elves, fairies, and unicorns. The whole point of doing fabulist work is to have frickin fun while dealing with the themes that interest you. So, this Black History Month, I'm going to honor my ancestors' sacrifices by finishing my unicorn book. Three days to go :)
Latest small press complication: Createspace won't do upside-down print. This is after much wrangling on the publisher's part. Format-wise, this is a severe blow. I really want it arranged like an old Ace book. But it's not the end-all. No ranting here, just an update. All it means is that other options have to be explored. It is certainly possible to sandwich the books together one after the other, as has been done with countless collections. Maybe another printer? Who knows. It's something I have to rap about with the other artist involved and see what conclusion we come to. The actual writing of the piece is on track. Again, as long as the content is up to the quality I set for myself, other setbacks can be endured.
Also, I was perusing Podcastle and found this gem: http://podcastle.org/2012/01/24/podcastle-193-fruit-jar-drinkin-cheatin-heart-blues/ It's from a recent lesbian steampunk anthology that got contributions from boatloads of talented writers. I don't read steampunk. Just not terribly interesting to me. But I do love folky, Southern-style storytelling, and Patty Templeton delivers it in spades. Some people tell me I write in that whole Faulknerian genre. I don't know. I think there's a big gulf between my work and somebody like Lewis Nordan (and don't you say that it's because he can actually write, asshole). I'd like to write more domestic or tall tale type Southern stories with folklore more in the background, and I will. Right now I gravitate toward the sweeping epic. Where was I? Oh yeah, Patty Templeton. She's the shit. Go listen to M.K. Hobson's excellent reading of her work.
Fellowship of the Ring
So I watched the trailer for The Hobbit. Looks good. I'm not super psyched. Contrary to some opinions, the Lord of the Rings movies did not get better as they went along, and King Kong pretty much killed my faith in Peter Jackson to tell a concise story. As you can tell, I don't like the decision to split this children's novel into two movies. That's getting into a whole other rant, but the entire thing is so greedy and cynical.
As Hollywood becomes increasingly artistically bankrupt, they've realized the power of the geek dollar. What do geeks like best? Length. Hollywood knows that, by splitting a movie in half, the geeks will pay twice for the same flick. After all, these bloated affairs come closer to the impossible and unnecessary task of replicating the book onscreen. Ugh. Just...ugh. Instead of tight, focused movies that narrow in on the themes of the work, we get Twilight: Breaking Dawn cut in half, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows cut in half. Both books have completely simple storylines that could easily be streamlined by a good screenwriter. Both books have interesting themes (most definitely Breaking Dawn, one of the most fucked up books about female sexuality in recent memory) that could get brought to the forefront by brave and ambitious filmmakers. Instead we get...fanservice. We get The Hobbit, brilliantly told in a Rankin-Bass cartoon that clocked in under two hours, cut in fucking half. And the geeks will pay top dollar for these half-movies.
I would say it takes real skill to cut a narrative down to the meat of it. To make a thematic masterpiece like Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, or the Olivier Hamlet. Movies like that are movies. The filmmakers knew how to let the visuals do the talking in place of text. Nowadays we get movies that are just scene after scene transcribed from the book. Like Watchmen, where they were so intent on replicating the comic that the film itself had no soul whatsoever. Was I seriously supposed to care about Rorschach as a person?
I'm sorry, books and film are two separate mediums and should be treated as such. Only in geek circles does bloated = quality. I'd personally take The Last Unicorn over your average high fantasy ultraseries of 10+ thousand-page books any day. I love George R.R. Martin. He either needs to cut or turn his books into a Burroughs-style serial with a book every year. And even then he'd need to cut.
I would say part of the blame for this trend stems from the LOTR Extended Editions, DVD versions that New Line released with extra footage and made bank. Fun for fans of the series, but bloated and meandering from a film perspective. Sorry. I knew I'd start ranting. If I want The Hobbit + made-up stuff from the LOTR appendices, I'll go read those books. I want the movie to be a good movie. I was super excited when Guillermo del Toro was attached. Yes, because its GDT, but also because I know he doesn't have the inclination to go bigger and bigger like Jackson does. He could deliver a well-done, beautiful and, best of all, tightly scripted fantasy story a la Pan's Labyrinth. I still have the niggling suspicion that Jackson, given his epic inclinations, will take one of Tolkien's simplest tales and try to outdo the scale of Return of the King. Oh, and add some fart jokes.
But enough Negative Nancy-ing. Of course I got a kick out of seeing "carefully, carefully with the plates" brought to life. The Gollum part at the end, with the LOTR music cue, was just perfect. And, yes, I'll be there for the half-movie on opening day. Why?
Because Peter Jackson's Lord of the Rings movies are the reason I write fantasy.
I'm not going to start talking about Two Towers and Return of the King, because if I do this post will never end, but all my trepidation about Jackson's direction starts with those movies. Fellowship of the Ring is flawless. Beginning to end, a pitch-perfect example of the power of fantasy to tell human stories. There is not a wasted moment, and there are plenty of human moments that zero in on the characters' hopes and frailties. All told on a scale that boggles the mind.
I'm not a Tolkien fan. As I get older I find myself appreciating his poetic work like Sir Gawain, but his stories of lily-white ubermensch defeating the dark-skinned hordes always bored me. The idea of one group of people being good and another evil was just as lame and racist with Tolkien as it was in the Redwall books. I couldn't relate to Frodo. How can you relate to a guy whose primary problems in life come from external forces that oppress him simply because they're evil? In my world, the people I usually butt heads with think they're doing the right thing. They suck, but they're human. I wasn't used to that story in life, and I didn't like it in fantasy. I like my characters flawed, my favorite color is gray, and my favorite fantasy book is Beloved.
Let's go a bit further. In 2001 my concept of fantasy was Elfquest, Dragonlance, Robert E. Howard and Michael Moorcock. I discovered them in that order. My concept of science fiction was Ender's Game. Thus, for me spec-fic was complicated scenarios, morally questionable characters (very questionable in Conan's case), and an open approach to sexuality (fave Dragonlance character: Kitiara). I was a young, angsty and black product of the cynical '90s and my country's semi-elected leader has just received his blank check to massacre the Iraqis. I was in no mood for simple-minded bullshit from any form of entertainment.
December of 2001. I'm 17. I was in my senior year of high school and, as I often did, spent the Christmas season with my dad in Pittsburgh. There was a Showcase Cinema in Monroeville that closed down not long after. Now it's a Sheetz. I think the only Showtimes left in Pittsburgh are on the outskirts in places like Robinson. So I'm no Tolkien fan, but it's a fantasy epic on the big screen. You know I'm there. Sat right down in the theatre with my dad.
It was amazing. I've heard the second and third movies described as awesome, and they are, but Fellowship is amazing. The first half hour was spent developing the characters (I looooove the Hobbiton parts), and I already feel an attachment to them during the harrowing section with the Nazgul. There were all these wonderful character beats and the pacing was absolutely perfect.
And for every character moment there's an equally great visual. Saruman chanting from the top of his tower. The moth flying over a ravaged Isengard. Gandalf's stand against the Balrog. One jaw-dropping locale after another. Fantasy with a capital F. The filmmakers break new ground with the technology at their disposal and bring a whole world to life.
As I said, I grew up on Dragonlance. I picked up every book I could find in the macroseries and, no, not all of them were great literature, but the world of Krynn was consistently entertaining. Many DL fans have spent years clamoring for a film. The story is certainly cinematic. There was a garbage animated DTV movie that came out a few years ago, shortly before Wizards of the Coast put the whole series to bed. Hopes for a live-action DL film went out the window.
Peter Jackson's Fellowship of the Ring was my Dragonlance movie. It had all the scope, all the fantasy, but most important it had the characters. I could see the correlations between Merry/Pippin and Tasslehoff, Aragorn and Tanis, Elrond and Elistan, Boromir and Lorac. Characters who had to conquer their own darkness before they could conquer evil. Simply put, eveything I wanted in a fantasy story was now onscreen.
So for an hour and a half I follow these poor Gandalf-deprived hobbits through a horror movie. Things get progressively worse, but they end up getting help from the mysterious Strider and gallant elven princess Arwen. (By the way, it tickles me how much Tolkien fans were complaining in 2001 about Jackson cutting Tom Bombadil and giving Arwen something to do. Little did they know the hair-pulling they'd be doing over the next two years). And by the way, how awesome was that scene of Arwen galloping around the trees with the Nazgul behind? Brilliant filmmaking and some damn good stunt riding.
I was afraid the movie would end at Rivendell because I've already watched a whole film, basically. I didn't want it to end. I thought I would exit with my dad into the cold night wanting to turn right back around and see the next showing because I NEEDED more. At this point, even Frodo thinks his story is over. Thankfully, it keeps going. And we get a whole new bunch of characters! As if things aren't bad enough, Saruman sends a hunting party after the Fellowship. Now, I'm assuming the Uruk-Hai leader is going to be a major villain in the next few films. A quick rest in Rivendell and it's back to hard times for the Fellowship.
The storytelling is engaging right down to the smallest detail. I'm a big fan of the "unexpected comrade" trope. I've loved it ever since I saw I Wanna Hold Your Hand and the greaser guy launches himself out the back of his car into the Beatles fans' car, just to be a dick, but now he's part of the adventure. I love that Merry and Pippin are simply out to still vegetables from a farm, run into Frodo and Sam and suddenly they're part of a mission to save the world. Sometimes, the greatest adventures are entirely unplanned.
What differentiates Fellowship from other fantasies, and makes it unique in the trilogy, is that there's hardly any humor. This is a mission, not an adventure. I can get down with some high fantasy if it's done well. I don't need everything to be Joe Abercrombie levels of bleak. I need to relate to the characters, know they deal with internal conflicts, and feel like what they are doing matters. That part in Two Towers where the Gondorian soldiers beat down Gollum, Abu Ghraib-style? Loved it. Sam cracking under the pressure and punching Gollum in the face every five minutes in Return of the King? Loved it. But back to Fellowship. Instead of Tolkien's douchebag Aragorn who runs around telling ev eryone they need to bow to him, we get an heir who is ashamed of his legacy and unsure of his destiny, played with a certain spiritual quality by Viggo Mortensen. We get a Boromir who becomes a big brother to the hobbits; a great warrior broken by despair. A Gimli who mourns the death of his kin. I was reminded in Fellowship that fantasy is not just about great happenings. It's about people just like me.
And these people get pulled through the ringer. Nazgul. Cave trolls. Goblins. Traitorous wizards. Evil crows. Gollum skulking everywhere. Kraken. Crumbling stairways. Snowstorms. Balrogs. Crazy elf ladies going nuclear out of nowhere. Uruk-Hai hunting parties. Sword fight after desperate swordfight, and it always feels like they're fighting a rear guard battle against superior foes. On top of Sauron's threat, the psychological pull of the ring is driving the companions apart. Even knowing Gandalf would return in no way diminished that scene of the Fellowship on the rocks outside Moria, literally breaking down after his fall into the darkness. For them, this is absolutely, positively real.
So I've traveled with these characters. I've seen them in joy and sorrow, I've seen their laughter and their loves and their emotional struggles, and I, the viewer, am just as emotionally exhausted as they are. That is when the fantasy part takes everything up a notch. These exhausted characters are, after all, in an epic battle against evil, and their enemies catch up to them at the worst moment. Jackson milks this for all it is worth.
Let me see if I can summarize:
Boromir succumbs to the pressure and tries to take the Ring from Frodo, but Frodo puts it on to become invisible, runs away but not before giving Boromir a good kick in the ass, and the warrior is left screaming at the trees, then Frodo is face to face with the flaming EYE OF SAURON HIMSELF, falls off the ledge of a ruin, is confronted by Aragorn but now he is distrustful, and asks the Dunedain if he can refuse the Ring of Power, and Aragorn DOES, making the choice that his ancestor could not and overcoming the lingering doubt of his ancestry, but they're not safe because Sting is glowing which means orcs are near and Aragorn yells at the ringbearer to run, RUN, and as Frodo runs, cloak blowing behind him, Aragorn struts out to confront what looks like every Uruk on the planet, lefts his sword to salute them like a true knight, ducks the first swing and hamstrings his foe, and it is literally awesome fight move after awesome fight move, Sam is looking for Frodo in the woods, Aragorn is pulling out every trick in the book to take on these orcs while SHOUTING HIS ANCESTOR'S NAME before Legolas and Gimli come to the rescue with an arrow and throwing ax and the three of them proceed to start wrecking everything in sight, Legolas draws an arrow, STABS AN ORC BETWEEN THE EYES WITH THE ARROW, then draws it back and SHOOTS IT AT ANOTHER ORC, and I am now in witness to the full badassery of these warriors that they'd been holding back until the very end of the movie where it would be its most awesome, I mean this nigga Legolas SHISH KABOBS TWO ORCS ON THE SAME FUCKING ARROW, Gimli smacking the shit outta them with his ax, Aragorn stabs an orc in the belly and then rams his head on a wall just to be a asshole, Merry and Pippin see Frodo crouched behind a tree and Pippin tells him to join them but Merry realizes he's leaving, going off on his own for the sake of THE WORLD, and they, because they may be small but they are HEROES, understand his decision and put themselves out as bait for the Uruks, distracting them, "Its working, Merry," "I know it's working," ha ha ha, and every single last character is being awesome, Legolas is standing there calmly picking off orcs as at least one person in the audience says "goddamn," when Boromir blows the horn of Gondor, at which point the High Fantasy Wrecking Krew engages in a RUNNING BATTLE with the Uruks, all documented in a beautiful overhead tracking shot that somebody should have won an Oscar for, and what's cool about Aragorn is that he's not afraid to fight dirty, ducking under an orc's swing only to pop up and smack him in the jaw with his sword hilt, then keep running, and Merry and Pippin see the Uruks coming for them when Boromir arrives and catches the haft of an ax in his hands, takes out that orc and every orc who comes at him, but wait, the hobbits start throwing rocks, and lo, Boromir the Fair, champion of Gondor, slicing and dicing and godDAMN this shit is violent, then the Uruk captain Lurtz ascends the ridge, draws back his longbow and shoots an arrow the size of a tent pole into Boromir's shoulder, and Merry and Pippin watch as he falls to his knees in front of a Catholic-looking statue, everything goes to slow-mo, the hobbits pause, but with a yell Boromir is back up, fighting in spite of his wound, then another arrow in his chest, Boromir is in shock, takes a look at his little brothers and KEEPS FIGHTING, and this is Gondor, this is the men of the West, slaughtering his enemies even as the strength leaves him, plunging his sword down into a fallen foe, lifting it for a downward chop that splits his enemy's skull to the teeth, then a whiz, the third arrow in his belly and he falls, as sunlight glimmers dim through the boughs the brave hobbits are pulled screaming into the arms of the Uruks and Boromir the Brave is on his knees in the center of the shot, three arrows jutting from his body, helplessly confronting his own failure as the Uruks race by him, and the only people left in the grove are him and Lurtz who is taking the time to savor the kill, posed right in front of Boromir, growling, the leather of his bowstring creaking loud as thunder and as he draws it back the son of Gondor can only stare straight in the eyes of his doom, and then ARAGORN! ARAGORN!! ARAGORN!!! jumps him outta nowhere, gets thrown into a tree and the orc pins him to the bark by throwing his fucking shield like Captain America, comes to decapitate Aragorn but he ducks, and it's just awesome, he punches dude in the belly, takes a knee to the gut, rolls away from his swordstroke and drives that wicked-looking dagger right into the thigh of the orc, who punches Aragorn and throws him like a ragdoll and then, I shit you not, pulls the dagger out of it his own leg and flings it at Aragorn, who STRIKES IT OUT OF THE AIR WITH HIS FUCKING BROADSWORD, and redoubles his efforts, blow after furious blow, and chops Lurtz's arm off, stabs him right in the gut, only for the Uruk to grab his hand and pull the sword into his own body, roaring defiance in Aragorn's face, and Aragorn's pulls the sword and summarily cuts his head off, thus ending the most down and dirty fight scene I'd ever witnessed in a fantasy movie, Aragorn runs over a hill of dead orcs to Bormoir's side, and Boromir despairs because he tried to take the ring and Minas Tirith will fall and on top of it he couldn't even save the hobbits, and Aragorn says he fought bravely, hands him his sword so he may die as a warrior, and Aragorn, finally taking up his mantle as a Son of Gondor, swears that he will not see the White City fall or their people come to ruin, and a look of peace comes over Boromir's face because he knows that this person will carry on his mission, and his dying words "I would have followed you my brother, my captain, my king," so goddamn poignant I bet Tolkien himself wished he'd thought of it, and Aragorn kisses his brow, and Frodo is on the edge of the river remembering the words of his beloved Gandalf, knows he must go alone, and makes his choice by rowing out in the boat, but what is this, it's Samwise Gamgee, loyal Sam, who will not defile his vow to stay with Frodo, who says, "I'm going alone," and Sam says, "I know, and I'm coming with you," and steps into the water although he can't swim and drifts slowly to the bottom and 17-year-old Elwin was absolutely positive the poor side-hobbit was going to die, I mean, it looked like he was already dead, and I was astounded by how much I actually cared, but a hobbit hand somehow descends twenty feet into the water to grab his hand, which comes to life to grip Frodo's hand, and with the Power of Love Frodo pulls him up into the canoe, and Samwise remembers his vow to Gandalf, and Aragorn sends Boromir's body into the river and off the falls but refuses to follow Frodo and Sam, "Frodo's fate is out of our hands," "The Fellowship has failed," despairs Gimli, and Aragorn puts his hands on their shoulders and says "Not if we hold true to each other," a vow to rescue Merry and Pippin from torture and death, a knowing smile between Legolas and Gimli and Gimli screams "Yes!" and they take off after the orcs ON FOOT, and as Frodo and Samwise look over the crags at the distant volcano Frodo knows he will most likely never see his friends again, and with a beatific smile he says,"I'm glad you're with me, Samwise Gamgee," they descend into the valley, the screen goes black, "Directed by Peter Jackson" comes up and I witness the biggest groan of disappointment I ever heard, and I knew...
I knew...
That I would follow them. They had me completely. I cared about these characters. What I will forever love about this battle is that all the fighting is used to serve emotion. Aragorn, Frodo, and Boromir all resolve their character arcs in the first movie, and the other members of the Fellowship have their moments to shine. And by the end I was as emotional as them.
Why do we love fantasy? Because it's awesome. Magic and impossible things are awesome. It provides a space for badass elves to stab people in the face with arrows then use the same arrow to skewer two guys. But this same creativity is used to serve character. All to round out a movie that, minute by minute, is pitch-perfect in plotting, fight choreography, acting, set design, costume design, editing, pace, adaptation. A collection of grand events and small moments that create an entire world. That movie has informed my writing ever since. It's not often I watch a three-hour film and never want it to end. I thought it was going to end at Rivendell. But it kept going, and got more epic.
I never stopped reading fantasy, but Fellowship gave me an overwhelming urge to create. To pass along that feeling the movie gave to me. The feeling that the world holds more wonder than we can imagine. And in the midst of wonder, love, courage, friendship, our basic humanity is just as important.
Latest small press complication: Createspace won't do upside-down print. This is after much wrangling on the publisher's part. Format-wise, this is a severe blow. I really want it arranged like an old Ace book. But it's not the end-all. No ranting here, just an update. All it means is that other options have to be explored. It is certainly possible to sandwich the books together one after the other, as has been done with countless collections. Maybe another printer? Who knows. It's something I have to rap about with the other artist involved and see what conclusion we come to. The actual writing of the piece is on track. Again, as long as the content is up to the quality I set for myself, other setbacks can be endured.
Also, I was perusing Podcastle and found this gem: http://podcastle.org/2012/01/24/podcastle-193-fruit-jar-drinkin-cheatin-heart-blues/ It's from a recent lesbian steampunk anthology that got contributions from boatloads of talented writers. I don't read steampunk. Just not terribly interesting to me. But I do love folky, Southern-style storytelling, and Patty Templeton delivers it in spades. Some people tell me I write in that whole Faulknerian genre. I don't know. I think there's a big gulf between my work and somebody like Lewis Nordan (and don't you say that it's because he can actually write, asshole). I'd like to write more domestic or tall tale type Southern stories with folklore more in the background, and I will. Right now I gravitate toward the sweeping epic. Where was I? Oh yeah, Patty Templeton. She's the shit. Go listen to M.K. Hobson's excellent reading of her work.
Fellowship of the Ring
So I watched the trailer for The Hobbit. Looks good. I'm not super psyched. Contrary to some opinions, the Lord of the Rings movies did not get better as they went along, and King Kong pretty much killed my faith in Peter Jackson to tell a concise story. As you can tell, I don't like the decision to split this children's novel into two movies. That's getting into a whole other rant, but the entire thing is so greedy and cynical.
As Hollywood becomes increasingly artistically bankrupt, they've realized the power of the geek dollar. What do geeks like best? Length. Hollywood knows that, by splitting a movie in half, the geeks will pay twice for the same flick. After all, these bloated affairs come closer to the impossible and unnecessary task of replicating the book onscreen. Ugh. Just...ugh. Instead of tight, focused movies that narrow in on the themes of the work, we get Twilight: Breaking Dawn cut in half, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows cut in half. Both books have completely simple storylines that could easily be streamlined by a good screenwriter. Both books have interesting themes (most definitely Breaking Dawn, one of the most fucked up books about female sexuality in recent memory) that could get brought to the forefront by brave and ambitious filmmakers. Instead we get...fanservice. We get The Hobbit, brilliantly told in a Rankin-Bass cartoon that clocked in under two hours, cut in fucking half. And the geeks will pay top dollar for these half-movies.
I would say it takes real skill to cut a narrative down to the meat of it. To make a thematic masterpiece like Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, or the Olivier Hamlet. Movies like that are movies. The filmmakers knew how to let the visuals do the talking in place of text. Nowadays we get movies that are just scene after scene transcribed from the book. Like Watchmen, where they were so intent on replicating the comic that the film itself had no soul whatsoever. Was I seriously supposed to care about Rorschach as a person?
I'm sorry, books and film are two separate mediums and should be treated as such. Only in geek circles does bloated = quality. I'd personally take The Last Unicorn over your average high fantasy ultraseries of 10+ thousand-page books any day. I love George R.R. Martin. He either needs to cut or turn his books into a Burroughs-style serial with a book every year. And even then he'd need to cut.
I would say part of the blame for this trend stems from the LOTR Extended Editions, DVD versions that New Line released with extra footage and made bank. Fun for fans of the series, but bloated and meandering from a film perspective. Sorry. I knew I'd start ranting. If I want The Hobbit + made-up stuff from the LOTR appendices, I'll go read those books. I want the movie to be a good movie. I was super excited when Guillermo del Toro was attached. Yes, because its GDT, but also because I know he doesn't have the inclination to go bigger and bigger like Jackson does. He could deliver a well-done, beautiful and, best of all, tightly scripted fantasy story a la Pan's Labyrinth. I still have the niggling suspicion that Jackson, given his epic inclinations, will take one of Tolkien's simplest tales and try to outdo the scale of Return of the King. Oh, and add some fart jokes.
But enough Negative Nancy-ing. Of course I got a kick out of seeing "carefully, carefully with the plates" brought to life. The Gollum part at the end, with the LOTR music cue, was just perfect. And, yes, I'll be there for the half-movie on opening day. Why?
Because Peter Jackson's Lord of the Rings movies are the reason I write fantasy.
I'm not going to start talking about Two Towers and Return of the King, because if I do this post will never end, but all my trepidation about Jackson's direction starts with those movies. Fellowship of the Ring is flawless. Beginning to end, a pitch-perfect example of the power of fantasy to tell human stories. There is not a wasted moment, and there are plenty of human moments that zero in on the characters' hopes and frailties. All told on a scale that boggles the mind.
I'm not a Tolkien fan. As I get older I find myself appreciating his poetic work like Sir Gawain, but his stories of lily-white ubermensch defeating the dark-skinned hordes always bored me. The idea of one group of people being good and another evil was just as lame and racist with Tolkien as it was in the Redwall books. I couldn't relate to Frodo. How can you relate to a guy whose primary problems in life come from external forces that oppress him simply because they're evil? In my world, the people I usually butt heads with think they're doing the right thing. They suck, but they're human. I wasn't used to that story in life, and I didn't like it in fantasy. I like my characters flawed, my favorite color is gray, and my favorite fantasy book is Beloved.
Let's go a bit further. In 2001 my concept of fantasy was Elfquest, Dragonlance, Robert E. Howard and Michael Moorcock. I discovered them in that order. My concept of science fiction was Ender's Game. Thus, for me spec-fic was complicated scenarios, morally questionable characters (very questionable in Conan's case), and an open approach to sexuality (fave Dragonlance character: Kitiara). I was a young, angsty and black product of the cynical '90s and my country's semi-elected leader has just received his blank check to massacre the Iraqis. I was in no mood for simple-minded bullshit from any form of entertainment.
December of 2001. I'm 17. I was in my senior year of high school and, as I often did, spent the Christmas season with my dad in Pittsburgh. There was a Showcase Cinema in Monroeville that closed down not long after. Now it's a Sheetz. I think the only Showtimes left in Pittsburgh are on the outskirts in places like Robinson. So I'm no Tolkien fan, but it's a fantasy epic on the big screen. You know I'm there. Sat right down in the theatre with my dad.
It was amazing. I've heard the second and third movies described as awesome, and they are, but Fellowship is amazing. The first half hour was spent developing the characters (I looooove the Hobbiton parts), and I already feel an attachment to them during the harrowing section with the Nazgul. There were all these wonderful character beats and the pacing was absolutely perfect.
And for every character moment there's an equally great visual. Saruman chanting from the top of his tower. The moth flying over a ravaged Isengard. Gandalf's stand against the Balrog. One jaw-dropping locale after another. Fantasy with a capital F. The filmmakers break new ground with the technology at their disposal and bring a whole world to life.
As I said, I grew up on Dragonlance. I picked up every book I could find in the macroseries and, no, not all of them were great literature, but the world of Krynn was consistently entertaining. Many DL fans have spent years clamoring for a film. The story is certainly cinematic. There was a garbage animated DTV movie that came out a few years ago, shortly before Wizards of the Coast put the whole series to bed. Hopes for a live-action DL film went out the window.
Peter Jackson's Fellowship of the Ring was my Dragonlance movie. It had all the scope, all the fantasy, but most important it had the characters. I could see the correlations between Merry/Pippin and Tasslehoff, Aragorn and Tanis, Elrond and Elistan, Boromir and Lorac. Characters who had to conquer their own darkness before they could conquer evil. Simply put, eveything I wanted in a fantasy story was now onscreen.
So for an hour and a half I follow these poor Gandalf-deprived hobbits through a horror movie. Things get progressively worse, but they end up getting help from the mysterious Strider and gallant elven princess Arwen. (By the way, it tickles me how much Tolkien fans were complaining in 2001 about Jackson cutting Tom Bombadil and giving Arwen something to do. Little did they know the hair-pulling they'd be doing over the next two years). And by the way, how awesome was that scene of Arwen galloping around the trees with the Nazgul behind? Brilliant filmmaking and some damn good stunt riding.
I was afraid the movie would end at Rivendell because I've already watched a whole film, basically. I didn't want it to end. I thought I would exit with my dad into the cold night wanting to turn right back around and see the next showing because I NEEDED more. At this point, even Frodo thinks his story is over. Thankfully, it keeps going. And we get a whole new bunch of characters! As if things aren't bad enough, Saruman sends a hunting party after the Fellowship. Now, I'm assuming the Uruk-Hai leader is going to be a major villain in the next few films. A quick rest in Rivendell and it's back to hard times for the Fellowship.
The storytelling is engaging right down to the smallest detail. I'm a big fan of the "unexpected comrade" trope. I've loved it ever since I saw I Wanna Hold Your Hand and the greaser guy launches himself out the back of his car into the Beatles fans' car, just to be a dick, but now he's part of the adventure. I love that Merry and Pippin are simply out to still vegetables from a farm, run into Frodo and Sam and suddenly they're part of a mission to save the world. Sometimes, the greatest adventures are entirely unplanned.
What differentiates Fellowship from other fantasies, and makes it unique in the trilogy, is that there's hardly any humor. This is a mission, not an adventure. I can get down with some high fantasy if it's done well. I don't need everything to be Joe Abercrombie levels of bleak. I need to relate to the characters, know they deal with internal conflicts, and feel like what they are doing matters. That part in Two Towers where the Gondorian soldiers beat down Gollum, Abu Ghraib-style? Loved it. Sam cracking under the pressure and punching Gollum in the face every five minutes in Return of the King? Loved it. But back to Fellowship. Instead of Tolkien's douchebag Aragorn who runs around telling ev eryone they need to bow to him, we get an heir who is ashamed of his legacy and unsure of his destiny, played with a certain spiritual quality by Viggo Mortensen. We get a Boromir who becomes a big brother to the hobbits; a great warrior broken by despair. A Gimli who mourns the death of his kin. I was reminded in Fellowship that fantasy is not just about great happenings. It's about people just like me.
And these people get pulled through the ringer. Nazgul. Cave trolls. Goblins. Traitorous wizards. Evil crows. Gollum skulking everywhere. Kraken. Crumbling stairways. Snowstorms. Balrogs. Crazy elf ladies going nuclear out of nowhere. Uruk-Hai hunting parties. Sword fight after desperate swordfight, and it always feels like they're fighting a rear guard battle against superior foes. On top of Sauron's threat, the psychological pull of the ring is driving the companions apart. Even knowing Gandalf would return in no way diminished that scene of the Fellowship on the rocks outside Moria, literally breaking down after his fall into the darkness. For them, this is absolutely, positively real.
So I've traveled with these characters. I've seen them in joy and sorrow, I've seen their laughter and their loves and their emotional struggles, and I, the viewer, am just as emotionally exhausted as they are. That is when the fantasy part takes everything up a notch. These exhausted characters are, after all, in an epic battle against evil, and their enemies catch up to them at the worst moment. Jackson milks this for all it is worth.
Let me see if I can summarize:
Boromir succumbs to the pressure and tries to take the Ring from Frodo, but Frodo puts it on to become invisible, runs away but not before giving Boromir a good kick in the ass, and the warrior is left screaming at the trees, then Frodo is face to face with the flaming EYE OF SAURON HIMSELF, falls off the ledge of a ruin, is confronted by Aragorn but now he is distrustful, and asks the Dunedain if he can refuse the Ring of Power, and Aragorn DOES, making the choice that his ancestor could not and overcoming the lingering doubt of his ancestry, but they're not safe because Sting is glowing which means orcs are near and Aragorn yells at the ringbearer to run, RUN, and as Frodo runs, cloak blowing behind him, Aragorn struts out to confront what looks like every Uruk on the planet, lefts his sword to salute them like a true knight, ducks the first swing and hamstrings his foe, and it is literally awesome fight move after awesome fight move, Sam is looking for Frodo in the woods, Aragorn is pulling out every trick in the book to take on these orcs while SHOUTING HIS ANCESTOR'S NAME before Legolas and Gimli come to the rescue with an arrow and throwing ax and the three of them proceed to start wrecking everything in sight, Legolas draws an arrow, STABS AN ORC BETWEEN THE EYES WITH THE ARROW, then draws it back and SHOOTS IT AT ANOTHER ORC, and I am now in witness to the full badassery of these warriors that they'd been holding back until the very end of the movie where it would be its most awesome, I mean this nigga Legolas SHISH KABOBS TWO ORCS ON THE SAME FUCKING ARROW, Gimli smacking the shit outta them with his ax, Aragorn stabs an orc in the belly and then rams his head on a wall just to be a asshole, Merry and Pippin see Frodo crouched behind a tree and Pippin tells him to join them but Merry realizes he's leaving, going off on his own for the sake of THE WORLD, and they, because they may be small but they are HEROES, understand his decision and put themselves out as bait for the Uruks, distracting them, "Its working, Merry," "I know it's working," ha ha ha, and every single last character is being awesome, Legolas is standing there calmly picking off orcs as at least one person in the audience says "goddamn," when Boromir blows the horn of Gondor, at which point the High Fantasy Wrecking Krew engages in a RUNNING BATTLE with the Uruks, all documented in a beautiful overhead tracking shot that somebody should have won an Oscar for, and what's cool about Aragorn is that he's not afraid to fight dirty, ducking under an orc's swing only to pop up and smack him in the jaw with his sword hilt, then keep running, and Merry and Pippin see the Uruks coming for them when Boromir arrives and catches the haft of an ax in his hands, takes out that orc and every orc who comes at him, but wait, the hobbits start throwing rocks, and lo, Boromir the Fair, champion of Gondor, slicing and dicing and godDAMN this shit is violent, then the Uruk captain Lurtz ascends the ridge, draws back his longbow and shoots an arrow the size of a tent pole into Boromir's shoulder, and Merry and Pippin watch as he falls to his knees in front of a Catholic-looking statue, everything goes to slow-mo, the hobbits pause, but with a yell Boromir is back up, fighting in spite of his wound, then another arrow in his chest, Boromir is in shock, takes a look at his little brothers and KEEPS FIGHTING, and this is Gondor, this is the men of the West, slaughtering his enemies even as the strength leaves him, plunging his sword down into a fallen foe, lifting it for a downward chop that splits his enemy's skull to the teeth, then a whiz, the third arrow in his belly and he falls, as sunlight glimmers dim through the boughs the brave hobbits are pulled screaming into the arms of the Uruks and Boromir the Brave is on his knees in the center of the shot, three arrows jutting from his body, helplessly confronting his own failure as the Uruks race by him, and the only people left in the grove are him and Lurtz who is taking the time to savor the kill, posed right in front of Boromir, growling, the leather of his bowstring creaking loud as thunder and as he draws it back the son of Gondor can only stare straight in the eyes of his doom, and then ARAGORN! ARAGORN!! ARAGORN!!! jumps him outta nowhere, gets thrown into a tree and the orc pins him to the bark by throwing his fucking shield like Captain America, comes to decapitate Aragorn but he ducks, and it's just awesome, he punches dude in the belly, takes a knee to the gut, rolls away from his swordstroke and drives that wicked-looking dagger right into the thigh of the orc, who punches Aragorn and throws him like a ragdoll and then, I shit you not, pulls the dagger out of it his own leg and flings it at Aragorn, who STRIKES IT OUT OF THE AIR WITH HIS FUCKING BROADSWORD, and redoubles his efforts, blow after furious blow, and chops Lurtz's arm off, stabs him right in the gut, only for the Uruk to grab his hand and pull the sword into his own body, roaring defiance in Aragorn's face, and Aragorn's pulls the sword and summarily cuts his head off, thus ending the most down and dirty fight scene I'd ever witnessed in a fantasy movie, Aragorn runs over a hill of dead orcs to Bormoir's side, and Boromir despairs because he tried to take the ring and Minas Tirith will fall and on top of it he couldn't even save the hobbits, and Aragorn says he fought bravely, hands him his sword so he may die as a warrior, and Aragorn, finally taking up his mantle as a Son of Gondor, swears that he will not see the White City fall or their people come to ruin, and a look of peace comes over Boromir's face because he knows that this person will carry on his mission, and his dying words "I would have followed you my brother, my captain, my king," so goddamn poignant I bet Tolkien himself wished he'd thought of it, and Aragorn kisses his brow, and Frodo is on the edge of the river remembering the words of his beloved Gandalf, knows he must go alone, and makes his choice by rowing out in the boat, but what is this, it's Samwise Gamgee, loyal Sam, who will not defile his vow to stay with Frodo, who says, "I'm going alone," and Sam says, "I know, and I'm coming with you," and steps into the water although he can't swim and drifts slowly to the bottom and 17-year-old Elwin was absolutely positive the poor side-hobbit was going to die, I mean, it looked like he was already dead, and I was astounded by how much I actually cared, but a hobbit hand somehow descends twenty feet into the water to grab his hand, which comes to life to grip Frodo's hand, and with the Power of Love Frodo pulls him up into the canoe, and Samwise remembers his vow to Gandalf, and Aragorn sends Boromir's body into the river and off the falls but refuses to follow Frodo and Sam, "Frodo's fate is out of our hands," "The Fellowship has failed," despairs Gimli, and Aragorn puts his hands on their shoulders and says "Not if we hold true to each other," a vow to rescue Merry and Pippin from torture and death, a knowing smile between Legolas and Gimli and Gimli screams "Yes!" and they take off after the orcs ON FOOT, and as Frodo and Samwise look over the crags at the distant volcano Frodo knows he will most likely never see his friends again, and with a beatific smile he says,"I'm glad you're with me, Samwise Gamgee," they descend into the valley, the screen goes black, "Directed by Peter Jackson" comes up and I witness the biggest groan of disappointment I ever heard, and I knew...
I knew...
That I would follow them. They had me completely. I cared about these characters. What I will forever love about this battle is that all the fighting is used to serve emotion. Aragorn, Frodo, and Boromir all resolve their character arcs in the first movie, and the other members of the Fellowship have their moments to shine. And by the end I was as emotional as them.
Why do we love fantasy? Because it's awesome. Magic and impossible things are awesome. It provides a space for badass elves to stab people in the face with arrows then use the same arrow to skewer two guys. But this same creativity is used to serve character. All to round out a movie that, minute by minute, is pitch-perfect in plotting, fight choreography, acting, set design, costume design, editing, pace, adaptation. A collection of grand events and small moments that create an entire world. That movie has informed my writing ever since. It's not often I watch a three-hour film and never want it to end. I thought it was going to end at Rivendell. But it kept going, and got more epic.
I never stopped reading fantasy, but Fellowship gave me an overwhelming urge to create. To pass along that feeling the movie gave to me. The feeling that the world holds more wonder than we can imagine. And in the midst of wonder, love, courage, friendship, our basic humanity is just as important.
Saturday, February 25, 2012
Condor 2012 schedule
Excited!!!
Friday, March 2nd
5 PM
Garden Ballroom I
Extemporaneous Story Telling: Grand Unified Conspiracy Theory - Elwin Cotman, Judy Lazar, Dani Kollin, Eytan Kollin, Lowell Cunningham
Our panelists take elements from the audience and tell the conspiracies that interconnect them. Gradually they interweave these elements into a theory that explains EVERYTHING.
Saturday, March 3rd
5 PM
Garden Ballroom I
Who wants to live forever? How immortality changes . . . everything - William Stoddard, Elwin Cotman, Christopher Farnsworth, Kevin Gerard, Edward M. Erdelac.
Sunday March 4th
10 AM
Brittany
Reading - Elwin Cotman.
12 PM
Garden Ballroom I
The Christian Apocalypse in Literature and the Media - Chris Weber, Ron Oakes, Jean Graham, Elwin Cotman, Lynn Maudlin.
1 PM
Dealers Room
Autographs: Kevin Grazier, Elwin Cotman.
Looks like Sunday is my busy day. In related news, gas in California is goddamn expensive.
Friday, March 2nd
5 PM
Garden Ballroom I
Extemporaneous Story Telling: Grand Unified Conspiracy Theory - Elwin Cotman, Judy Lazar, Dani Kollin, Eytan Kollin, Lowell Cunningham
Our panelists take elements from the audience and tell the conspiracies that interconnect them. Gradually they interweave these elements into a theory that explains EVERYTHING.
Saturday, March 3rd
5 PM
Garden Ballroom I
Who wants to live forever? How immortality changes . . . everything - William Stoddard, Elwin Cotman, Christopher Farnsworth, Kevin Gerard, Edward M. Erdelac.
Sunday March 4th
10 AM
Brittany
Reading - Elwin Cotman.
12 PM
Garden Ballroom I
The Christian Apocalypse in Literature and the Media - Chris Weber, Ron Oakes, Jean Graham, Elwin Cotman, Lynn Maudlin.
1 PM
Dealers Room
Autographs: Kevin Grazier, Elwin Cotman.
Looks like Sunday is my busy day. In related news, gas in California is goddamn expensive.
Sunday, February 19, 2012
Chapter 72: In Which I Talk About Doing an Intro
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JiIajQGHqnQ
Tributes don't come any classier than that. I never really knew what the big deal was about Jennifer Hudson until I watched that. I also like her restraint. "I Will Always Love You" is a song that is very tempting to oversing, so seeing somebody do the subtle route so well is nice. And I love that she honored Whitney by covering a song that is a cover. That's the power of music in that it carries on through generations.
I always considered Whitney to be one of the greatest singers of all time. No matter how great she sounded on the albums, Whitney was an artist who truly came alive onstage. Watching her live performances as a child in the Nineties was always electrifying. That said, it's been impossible for me to mourn her. As a friend of mine recently said, she, along with Michael Jackson, were already spiritually dead to me by the time they physically died. Her best years were behind her. I didn't feel the overwhelming relief that I felt when Michael passed, just a kind of apathy. Needless to say, I had to check out her videos. Yes, one of the greatest singers of all time. A song like "I Want To Dance With Somebody" would have been worthless without her vocals. Talented, and beautiful. Women don't come much prettier than Whitney in her prime.
I've been thinking a lot about the overall insidiousness of white privilege and white supremacy. It's been coming up more and more in my personal life, and came up relating to Whitney. I was checking out her videos online, and the lady's corpse wasn't even cold before trolls were going in the comments screaming about how she was a drug addict.
Two things:
1. I always understood Dave Chappelle's decision to turn down the millions from Comedy Central and leave his TV show. He feared that his humor was being used to justify racism, an experience so disenchanting he retired from show business altogether. That I understand. The worst part for me is that his decision ultimately didn't change things. Ten years later you've got frat boys going on Whitney Houston videos to say "cocaine is a hell of a drug." What does cocaine have to do in any way with "The Shoop Song"? Extra sad when you consider the funny sketch that line originated from was done with the participation of the artist being spoofed (Rick James) and was done basically as self-mockery, nothing mean-spirited about a group of people. But Dave's comedy has permanently become part of the racist lexicon.
2. Grammy Award-winning singer, actress, producer. All they see is a drug addict. That's white privilege. The average black person knows the difference between Whitney Houston and a typical crackhead, between somebody who fell and somebody who never stood up in the first place. In spite of her demons she made truly incredible work for fifteen years. Somebody who would piss on Whitney's corpse always considered himself superior to her, and would no matter who she was or what she had done.
The whole thing is kind of a sore spot for me, as I've spent a lot of my time in the Bay inhabiting white privilege spaces and putting up with people's feelings of superiority. Sometimes I confront it, sometimes it's not worth the bother, but the shit is just so absolutely retarded that it's becoming impossible to deal with. Talking ill about the dead? Did she hurt you personally? Oh, I forget, black people are the scum of the earth and must be put in their place.
Some people's lives are defined by their demons. James Brown was not one of them. John Lennon was not one of them. Elvis was not one of them. Whitney was not one of them. At the end of the day, her art is 99% of her legacy.
Intros
Speaking of talent, speaking of dynamism, speaking of brilliance, I was recently asked to do the intro for Nuruddin Farah when he did Mills' Contemporary Writers Series. Needless to say, it was an honor. Farah is a Somali writer who has chronicled the evolution of his homeland since its independence, and a multiple nominee for the Nobel Prize in Literature. He has been consistently publishing work for four decades. In addition to being prolific, he is also a very brave writer, often critical of the Somali government and certain cultural practices (one of his earliest books dealt with female genital mutilation). Just a brilliant writer, so lyrical. My recruitment for this task went something like this:
THEM: Elwin, we're having people from the Mills community introduce the writers at CWS this year. Would you like to do the intro?
ME: Sure.
THEM: One of the professors knows him and will probably introduce him. You're the alternate.
ME: Okay. (reads Farah's work)
A few days later:
THEM: Said professor has a few people lined up as possible intros. You're still the alternate.
ME: Cool.
Day of:
THEM: Shitshitshit you're the intro. Like, the official intro. Do you have something written? Oh my god it's in two hours!
ME: Um, I could read this 4-minute speech I typed up.
I like to think I did a good job. And it felt appropriate that a younger writer of folklore do the intro for a veteran folklorist. One of the gifts of being in grad school is getting to interact with brilliant authors and engage in writing community with them. It was a lovely event and Farah's a fiercely intelligent person, in addition to being very funny. He read from a newer piece about religious warfare in Africa. If you'd like to learn more about him, this site is a good place to start: http://www.netnomad.com/nuruddinfarah.html
Tributes don't come any classier than that. I never really knew what the big deal was about Jennifer Hudson until I watched that. I also like her restraint. "I Will Always Love You" is a song that is very tempting to oversing, so seeing somebody do the subtle route so well is nice. And I love that she honored Whitney by covering a song that is a cover. That's the power of music in that it carries on through generations.
I always considered Whitney to be one of the greatest singers of all time. No matter how great she sounded on the albums, Whitney was an artist who truly came alive onstage. Watching her live performances as a child in the Nineties was always electrifying. That said, it's been impossible for me to mourn her. As a friend of mine recently said, she, along with Michael Jackson, were already spiritually dead to me by the time they physically died. Her best years were behind her. I didn't feel the overwhelming relief that I felt when Michael passed, just a kind of apathy. Needless to say, I had to check out her videos. Yes, one of the greatest singers of all time. A song like "I Want To Dance With Somebody" would have been worthless without her vocals. Talented, and beautiful. Women don't come much prettier than Whitney in her prime.
I've been thinking a lot about the overall insidiousness of white privilege and white supremacy. It's been coming up more and more in my personal life, and came up relating to Whitney. I was checking out her videos online, and the lady's corpse wasn't even cold before trolls were going in the comments screaming about how she was a drug addict.
Two things:
1. I always understood Dave Chappelle's decision to turn down the millions from Comedy Central and leave his TV show. He feared that his humor was being used to justify racism, an experience so disenchanting he retired from show business altogether. That I understand. The worst part for me is that his decision ultimately didn't change things. Ten years later you've got frat boys going on Whitney Houston videos to say "cocaine is a hell of a drug." What does cocaine have to do in any way with "The Shoop Song"? Extra sad when you consider the funny sketch that line originated from was done with the participation of the artist being spoofed (Rick James) and was done basically as self-mockery, nothing mean-spirited about a group of people. But Dave's comedy has permanently become part of the racist lexicon.
2. Grammy Award-winning singer, actress, producer. All they see is a drug addict. That's white privilege. The average black person knows the difference between Whitney Houston and a typical crackhead, between somebody who fell and somebody who never stood up in the first place. In spite of her demons she made truly incredible work for fifteen years. Somebody who would piss on Whitney's corpse always considered himself superior to her, and would no matter who she was or what she had done.
The whole thing is kind of a sore spot for me, as I've spent a lot of my time in the Bay inhabiting white privilege spaces and putting up with people's feelings of superiority. Sometimes I confront it, sometimes it's not worth the bother, but the shit is just so absolutely retarded that it's becoming impossible to deal with. Talking ill about the dead? Did she hurt you personally? Oh, I forget, black people are the scum of the earth and must be put in their place.
Some people's lives are defined by their demons. James Brown was not one of them. John Lennon was not one of them. Elvis was not one of them. Whitney was not one of them. At the end of the day, her art is 99% of her legacy.
Intros
Speaking of talent, speaking of dynamism, speaking of brilliance, I was recently asked to do the intro for Nuruddin Farah when he did Mills' Contemporary Writers Series. Needless to say, it was an honor. Farah is a Somali writer who has chronicled the evolution of his homeland since its independence, and a multiple nominee for the Nobel Prize in Literature. He has been consistently publishing work for four decades. In addition to being prolific, he is also a very brave writer, often critical of the Somali government and certain cultural practices (one of his earliest books dealt with female genital mutilation). Just a brilliant writer, so lyrical. My recruitment for this task went something like this:
THEM: Elwin, we're having people from the Mills community introduce the writers at CWS this year. Would you like to do the intro?
ME: Sure.
THEM: One of the professors knows him and will probably introduce him. You're the alternate.
ME: Okay. (reads Farah's work)
A few days later:
THEM: Said professor has a few people lined up as possible intros. You're still the alternate.
ME: Cool.
Day of:
THEM: Shitshitshit you're the intro. Like, the official intro. Do you have something written? Oh my god it's in two hours!
ME: Um, I could read this 4-minute speech I typed up.
I like to think I did a good job. And it felt appropriate that a younger writer of folklore do the intro for a veteran folklorist. One of the gifts of being in grad school is getting to interact with brilliant authors and engage in writing community with them. It was a lovely event and Farah's a fiercely intelligent person, in addition to being very funny. He read from a newer piece about religious warfare in Africa. If you'd like to learn more about him, this site is a good place to start: http://www.netnomad.com/nuruddinfarah.html
Saturday, February 4, 2012
E-book availability
Well, the e-book is fully hatched from its egg and walking about. You can get it at...
Smashwords:
http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/116814
And through Smashwords:
The Sony Reader!
http://ebookstore.sony.com/ebook/elwin-cotman/the-jack-daniels-sessions-ep/_/R-400000000000000592624
The Kobo Vox!
http://www.kobobooks.com/ebook/The-Jack-Daniels-Sessions-EP/book-51bsosTNV0i_iQ9Jvb3HvA/page1.html?rId=476d2a4d-f50c-4537-bed4-e49fa0f840eb
The Diesel E-book Store!
http://search.diesel-ebooks.com/author/Cotman,%20Elwin/results/1.html
and for your NOOK!
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-jack-daniels-sessions-ep-elwin-cotman/1108178717
And maybe a few other places. Pick one. Ah, feels good to have the love and acceptance of the internet.
Smashwords:
http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/116814
And through Smashwords:
The Sony Reader!
http://ebookstore.sony.com/ebook/elwin-cotman/the-jack-daniels-sessions-ep/_/R-400000000000000592624
The Kobo Vox!
http://www.kobobooks.com/ebook/The-Jack-Daniels-Sessions-EP/book-51bsosTNV0i_iQ9Jvb3HvA/page1.html?rId=476d2a4d-f50c-4537-bed4-e49fa0f840eb
The Diesel E-book Store!
http://search.diesel-ebooks.com/author/Cotman,%20Elwin/results/1.html
and for your NOOK!
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-jack-daniels-sessions-ep-elwin-cotman/1108178717
And maybe a few other places. Pick one. Ah, feels good to have the love and acceptance of the internet.
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Chapter 71: In Which I Discuss Recording
Recently got this beautiful blurb from Laura Kasischke, author of The Life Before Her Eyes and The Raising. She's an amazing poet and for three decades has built this wonderful bibliography blending urban legend, the literary and the poetic. She says:
"Elwin Cotman has written a book for our times--edgy and transcendent, surreal and bizarrely sweet. You won't put this down after you've picked it up, and you won't be the same once you've finished it. This is a new voice to listen to closely. A writer with strange and exciting gifts."
Wow. So beautiful. As I've said, getting feedback and positivity from authors I admire is one of the best parts of this. Laura Kasischke? Cat Rambo? Charles Saunders? Karen Russell? Are you serious? Such a gift.
Jack Daniels Sessions EP audiobook
I made it into the studio yesterday. Last time was November, I think. It took us about an hour and a half to set up. The producer was trying to record straight into his computer, but the sound wouldn't come out clean. We ended up recording straight into the hard drive in the studio, as usual. Recording is all about positioning, as well. Your distance from the mic can modulate the sound. So I sit on a chair, with my laptop on a chair and opened to a .pdf of the book (keyboard clicking doesn't make as much noise as riffling through pages), and the mic hanging between us. Despite the late start, we got through the end of "Assistant." That's the whole book. Yay! I don't think I've ever read that portion out loud, so it was interesting getting deep into the dramatic part. I'm not a trained actor and I'm doing this all off of instinct. Definitely had to tone down the yelling, and I totally made one of the hardrive speakers go all frizzy. Other lessons: always stay hydrated, and doing call-and-response with YOURSELF does not work. Thinking I'll record the call and the response separately next time.
Still a lot to do. I need to go over all the recordings and check for consistency in voice. I'm particularly concerned about consistency of character voices, and I know I'll have to re-record a lot of hammy, poorly spoken Southern dialect. But it's good to go forward. I still owe Kickstarter contributors a recording of one of the stories, which I'm working on. Progress! It's a good thing.
"Elwin Cotman has written a book for our times--edgy and transcendent, surreal and bizarrely sweet. You won't put this down after you've picked it up, and you won't be the same once you've finished it. This is a new voice to listen to closely. A writer with strange and exciting gifts."
Wow. So beautiful. As I've said, getting feedback and positivity from authors I admire is one of the best parts of this. Laura Kasischke? Cat Rambo? Charles Saunders? Karen Russell? Are you serious? Such a gift.
Jack Daniels Sessions EP audiobook
I made it into the studio yesterday. Last time was November, I think. It took us about an hour and a half to set up. The producer was trying to record straight into his computer, but the sound wouldn't come out clean. We ended up recording straight into the hard drive in the studio, as usual. Recording is all about positioning, as well. Your distance from the mic can modulate the sound. So I sit on a chair, with my laptop on a chair and opened to a .pdf of the book (keyboard clicking doesn't make as much noise as riffling through pages), and the mic hanging between us. Despite the late start, we got through the end of "Assistant." That's the whole book. Yay! I don't think I've ever read that portion out loud, so it was interesting getting deep into the dramatic part. I'm not a trained actor and I'm doing this all off of instinct. Definitely had to tone down the yelling, and I totally made one of the hardrive speakers go all frizzy. Other lessons: always stay hydrated, and doing call-and-response with YOURSELF does not work. Thinking I'll record the call and the response separately next time.
Still a lot to do. I need to go over all the recordings and check for consistency in voice. I'm particularly concerned about consistency of character voices, and I know I'll have to re-record a lot of hammy, poorly spoken Southern dialect. But it's good to go forward. I still owe Kickstarter contributors a recording of one of the stories, which I'm working on. Progress! It's a good thing.
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