Double Rejection! Yesterday, not only did I receive a (surprisingly prompt!) rejection letter from The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction, but I also didn't get the Little Mermaid solo. Out of thirty girls, I was one of five callbacks. And of the five callbacks, I was one of the two asked to sing again, while the choir director went on at length about he wished he could fall on his sword instead of having to choose between the two of us (my competitor actually suggested we alternate between concerts and on tour, a suggestion I now wish I had supported and brought before the choir director).
We were very close (the director said), but I lost out because apparently I'd taken too much liberty with the solo rhythm (I think I stretched the "sure...she's got everything" line too long)and there were going to be instruments other than the piano accompanying the soloist who couldn't adjust to the soloist's speed. So I'm Number Two, which seems appropriate, because I feel like shit. I got really emotionally invested in this solo - I've auditioned, won, and lost solos before, but this was The Little Mermaid. There will doubtless be other solos, but not another Little Mermaid - at least for several years. I felt this solo was perfect for my particular voice type, so now I'm left thinking: if I can't get this solo, how in hell am I going to get any other solo in the future? I've had several good long cries over the last six hours while meditating on that subject.
There's still hope, I suppose. As Number Two, I'm the understudy - so if Number One gets sick or can't perform, I can get the part. A sympathetic choir member also informed me that I had a pretty good chance of getting an opportunity to sing the solo on tour, because after the fourth day Number One will probably be hella tired. As much as I'd like to wish that Number One got sick, or decided she didn't want the solo and wanted to give it to me because I clearly wanted it so badly, or realized that she'd won an all-expenses paid trip to Paris but could only take it the week she had to go on tour (not being able to go on tour being a disqualifying factor - I still might have hope on that one because Number One appeared to be surprised by that condition. Choir Director said, "You're going on tour, right?" Her response, "Well...I am now."), but I doubt it's going to happen. As hard as I find it to believe that someone might have wanted this solo as much as I did, I can only give Number One the benefit of a doubt and assume she is ecstatic at getting such a wonderful solo. I also doubt that she'll catch an awful cold and lose her voice for both the Mini-Tour Concert and the Annual Concert (both of which are recorded, with the better sounding performance ending up on the Annual CD).
So again, life sucks.
Thursday, January 25, 2007
Monday, January 22, 2007
Romantic Comedy Commentary Part 1
At last, I have returned to my screenplay, Safety Boyfriend. Without telling you about the actual plot, it's a romantic comedy about romantic comedies, so for research I went out and rented four this weekend to get a feel for the formulas of the genre. It was pure coincidence that two of the four happened to have Hugh Jackman in them. Pure coincidence, I tell ya... By the way, movie spoilers ahead:
Someone Like You
The first that I saw was Someone Like You. In this film, Jane (Ashley Judd), a talent scout for a talk show, falls for hunky coworker Ray (played by Greg Kinnear). Their relationship starts out great, despite the fact that Ray has not actually terminated his previous three-year relationship by the time he and Jane start dating. Can you say red flag?
Finally, Ray tells Jane that he's left his girlfriend, and she starts making plans to move in with him. However, surprise-surprise, at the last minute, Ray unceremoniously dumps Jane without giving her a reason, and she's left homeless and very messily heartbroken. Partly because she needs shelter and partly to spite Ray, she moves in with another coworker, Eddie (the yummy Hugh Jackman), even though she's not at all approving of his caddish manwhore ways. Now, she and Eddie are not in a relationship - Eddie can't afford his apartment without a roommate, so she's agreed to pay the other half of the rent, so long as there's no nookie.
While Hugh Jackman is extra delicious in this movie, Ashley Judd does an excellent job of killing the enjoyment factor. Her Jane isn't just an emotional mess, she is extremely public about how much of an emotional mess she is, which results in a lot of disgusting, inappropriate, and entirely unfunny tantrum scenes in which she chews out Ray, Eddie, and be-cocked human beings in general. Part of the plot of this movie is that her bitterness over the breakup has caused her to believe that men are cows - not pigs, but cows. See, the movie introduces how male cows, apparently, only mate with the same cow once - and cannot, under any circumstance, be induced to re-mate with the same "old cow." The betrayed Jane begins to apply this to men, believing that they cannot be monogamous or faithful, and that she and millions of other unlucky women are "old cows," forever doomed to watch their bulls leave them for "new cows."
She sinks so deeply into this belief, that when her equally bitter journalist girlfriend Liz suggests that Jane write a column about her theory in Liz's magazine, she does so - the kicker here being that Jane decides to write under the false identity of an esteemed, elderly doctor of psychology, so that readers will take her vengeful ramblings as scientific fact, as intelligent readers surely wouldn't if they thought they were the vengeful ramblings of an emotionally fragile twentysomething woman who has absolutely no knowledge or experience in male psychology and is writing only from her own painfully neglected errogenous zones, which they are!
Anyway, the first hour of this movie was almost enough to make me want to give up altogether - as lovely as Hugh Jackman is shirtless, there is nothing remotely entertaining in watching a needy, spiteful sadsack make an ass of herself in public. The last half manages to redeem Someone Like You, not into a movie that I myself would watch, but at least into a movie that has some sense and heart behind it.
When Jane has yet another spaztastic shrieking and crying fit in front of Ray and her boss, talkshow host Diane - Diane actually takes her aside and chides her for making everyone suffer for her bad relationship. In a very satisfying monologue, Diane reveals how her inability to reveal her feelings to her own significant other resulted in her own devastating breakup - the difference being that, she kept it to herself, because she knew she had a professional life to keep up that would not stand by and wait while she had a good cry. In a marvellous twist, Diane goes on to relate how she won her boyfriend back by finally expressing her feelings, and lo and behold, her boyfriend was Ray, and that was why he left Jane!
Now, this revelation doesn't help Jane very much - indeed, it sends her over the deep end because it basically refutes her entire "old cow, new cow" theory - that Ray didn't leave her for some New Cow, but dumped her in favour of an even Older Cow. Her delusional denial of Diane's story also irritates the hell out of Eddie, who, despite manwhoring every now and then, has been nothing but supportive and sympathetic and helpful during Jane's crisis. He's had his own share of nasty breakups (including one with the last tenant of his apartment), and he doesn't take kindly to having his gender equated with cruel, useless animals. When he finally confronts her and tells her - Hey, I'm a man, and I'm not like that! she breaks down and cries, again, but this time it counts because she's finally touched upon the core of her distress - she relied so faithfully on the New Cow/Old Cow theory because she wanted to convince herself that guys left her because it was in their rotten, bestial natures - she didn't want to consider that they left because something was actually wrong with her.
So, along comes more crying, and more sexy Hugh Jackman comforting, and finally, Jane goes on national television and apologizes for the nasty, biased bullshit she peddled under the guise of a scientific authority. She also realizes that Ray is not the only fish in the sea, or bull on the pasture, or whatever, and that guys aren't always pigs, or cows, or whatever, but can still participate in happy marriages (cue the infertile-sister-with-adoring-husband-subplot!), and consider her beautiful after she's spent the last ninety minutes of my time wailing like a banshee on a caffeine high. For her, that estimable gentleman turns out to be Hugh Jackman's Eddie (well, duh), and cue happy ending!
I have to say, I really disliked this story in which the majority of the female characters are basically bitter, envious harpies who are painfully attuned to the ever-present winding down of their biological clocks. There is nothing more repulsive to me than the twin choruses of "I need a man, I need a man" and "I hate men, I hate men". However, because the movie eventually concedes that these kinds of women are not in the right frame of mind, I'll give it a pass. Also, the movie could have demonized the Ray character - and did so for the second act - but eventually revealed him to have more realistic motivations. He wasn't a bastard, and he wasn't some wishy-washy I-can't-decide type.
The relationship between Eddie and Jane was also amazingly subtle - to the point where I was almost expecting the movie to end with them as friends, not lovers. Eddie starts out as disbelieving, then becomes sympathetic, then comforting. There wasn't a huge out-of-the-blue OMG-HUMP-HUMP love scene that made no sense, but only a realization from Jane that Eddie treats her the way she deserves (or more than she deserves) to be treated. Grade: B-
Fever Pitch
After the suffocating depression of Someone Like You, the sprightly Fever Pitch was a breath of fresh air. My sisters saw this movie back in Jasper during the Thanksgiving before last, and insisted that I watch it, and boy, am I glad I did.
In Fever Pitch, corporate exec Lindsey (Drew Barrymore) falls for likeable math teacher Ben (SNL's Jimmy Fallon). The first obstacle that comes up, surprisingly, is money. Her working-girl friends are initially iffy over the concept of their up-and-coming girlfriend going out with a lowly educator. Of course, once they actually meet her jovial and handsome beau, they relent - but a different nagging question arises: he's thirty but still single - what's the matter with him?
While his closet isn't full of garbage bags full of a life's worth of toenail clippings, he does have his own obsessions. Surprisingly, and refreshingly, he comes out and tells her the truth in the first act of the movie, without her having to ask him. A lesser movie would have had him hide it, would have included a bunch of tiresome and unfunny scenes of Ben going to drastic lengths to keep it a secret, only for it to be revealed in the third act, forcing Lindsey to accept him and his faults, point-blank, or kick him to the curb, which she wouldn't, because a lesser movie would have obviously pandered to the ridiculous happy ending.
Ever since he was seven, Ben has been a Red Sox fan - a fanatically loyal Red Sox fan. His apartment is carpetted, wallpapered, and decorated with Red Sox paraphernalia. After his baseball-loving uncle died, he inherited a lifetime's worth of season tickets, and he's gone to every game. He even goes down to Florida at the beginning of the pre-season to watch his Sox practice. He's honest about his interest - he even acknowledges that his devotion to his team has kept him out of a lot of meaningful relationships, and it's a nerve that's been rubbed pretty raw by rejection. When Lindsey appears unfazed, he's elated - but he neglects to remember that he and Lindsey began their relationship in the fall, after baseball season. She knows and loves Winter Ben - but how will she react to Summer (i.e. Baseball) Ben?
Lindsey doesn't know a whole lot about the Red Sox (and is initially teased about it by Ben's "summer family" - i.e. the people who've had season ticket seats next to his for the last twenty years), but she catches on and becomes more interested in the sport, even though her friends are worried that Ben is "colonising" her (that is, forcing her to abandon her own interests in favour of his). Of course, no matter how she loves baseball, she'll never be the fan that Ben is. Ben is the type of guy who covers his ears and hums in public when someone close to him starts talking about the Red Sox scores of a game that he's taping. He's the type of fan who'll neglect family obligations and social get-togethers if the Sox go up against the Yankees that day. He's also the type of fan who'll high-five the man who caught a Red Sox foul ball, and only afterwards check to make sure that his girlfriend, who was beaned by that same foul ball, is okay.
She's also, if I've neglected to mention, a career girl whose office is in the midst of a shake-up, and if she wants to snag the promotion she's always wanted she's going to have to develop her own obsession towards work. At first, she sees this as a win-win - with a baseball fan boyfriend, the Red Sox will keep Ben from feeling neglected when Lindsey has to devote her time to her job. Naturally, however, the relationship still becomes strained.
However, Ben is not a complete idiot. He loves the Red Sox whole-heartedly, but the movie never makes him into some cartoonish, Homer-Simpson-esque buffoon who is so selfishly attuned to the game that he forgets his girlfriend completely. He wants Lindsey to love baseball, because he loves her, and if she loves baseball she also loves that large part of him that loves baseball, too - and that's a part of him that's the most often been rejected by other women. In the middle of the film, the couple have a brief pregnancy scare - and Ben's reaction is to go out and buy Red Sox onesies (awww....), while Lindsey's is to rethink how much Ben is putting into their relationship. She respects his baseball love, but whenever she wants to go a party or whenever her friends have birthdays and anniversaries, she doesn't want to have to check the game calendar to see if Ben will go with her.
What does Ben do? He actually compromises, because he genuinely cares about Lindsey. As one of his students puts it, "You love the Red Sox, but have the Red Sox ever loved you back?" One of the reasons Ben loves baseball, as he puts it, is because it's safe - you can't have a good baseball career if you're lucky or rich, but only if you're good. It's his comfort zone. But Lindsey promises him a different kind of zone altogether - one that won't get rid of baseball, just one that will include other things as well as baseball. So he calms it down. On a night when the Sox are playing the Yankees - a type of game he usually never misses - he decides to go to a costume party with Lindsey. They have a great time, stay out late, and when they're out on the street waiting for a cab, he doesn't plug his ears when a nearby radio announces the baseball scores - six nothing Yankees, so far. After a few "home-runs" of their own, he tells Lindsey this was the best night of his life.
However, Ben eventually finds out that while he was out with Lindsey, he missed what might have been the best Red Sox game in history - in which the Sox make 8 runs in the last inning to win the game. People are partying in the streets, his friends are estatically screaming at him over the telephone, and newscasters are reporting Boston's longest conga line. Ben's repressed obsession kicks in, and frustrated, he lashes out at Lindsey, blaming her for changing his behaviour, for twisting his Red Sox loyalties. Lindsey, incredibly hurt, dumps him.
Lindsey and Ben reconcile, once again, through compromise, empathy, and understanding. Ben, feeling betrayed by the Red Sox and his own relationship with them, decides to sell his lifetime season tickets in an effort to get Lindsey back. Lindsey, finally equating her love of her "safe" job to his love of his "safe" game, runs onto the baseball diamond in the middle of the game to get his attention, because she loves his heart too much to allow him to cut away the part of it devoted to baseball.
What's most pleasant about Fever Pitch is that the couple is happy for most of the movie. There aren't really any villains in this film - there's one unpleasant yuppie couple (the wife, who's a friend of Lindsey and is a little too competitive, and the husband, who is the one who tries to buy Ben's season tickets), but that's about it. The movie isn't how a couple get together - they're already together. Fever Pitch is how a couple learns to work around and love the other's quirks is way that's easily relatable, not to mention how they learn to sacrifice parts to save the whole.
Drew Barrymore is a delight, as always, and (unlike Judd in Someone Like You and Meg Ryan in the next-to-be-mentioned Kate & Leopold) is not selfish or shrill, and doesn't play some stuck-up working-girl who has to give up her career in order to discover true love. She keeps her job, she loves her job. She works a little too hard at it, but that's something she needs to deal with, same as Ben. I loved how the baseball-love and work-love were paralleled - the movie didn't make the Ben character a freak that Lindsey had to "tame," but instead a kindred spirit whose passion was simply directed elsewhere.
And Jimmy Fallon - ooooooh, Jimmy Fallon. So cute! So very, very cute! Why isn't he in more movies? More movies that don't suck, I mean. I know he's in that upcoming Factory Girl flick, but what after that? We can't subsist on Pepsi commercials alone, Jimmy! He was sincerely adorable in this film, kind-hearted and funny and compassionate and flawed. A lovely movie detailing the evolution of a couple. A
Once I am done watching Serendipity (the last of the four films), I'll return with a double review of that and Kate & Leopold. Stay tuned!
Someone Like You
The first that I saw was Someone Like You. In this film, Jane (Ashley Judd), a talent scout for a talk show, falls for hunky coworker Ray (played by Greg Kinnear). Their relationship starts out great, despite the fact that Ray has not actually terminated his previous three-year relationship by the time he and Jane start dating. Can you say red flag?
Finally, Ray tells Jane that he's left his girlfriend, and she starts making plans to move in with him. However, surprise-surprise, at the last minute, Ray unceremoniously dumps Jane without giving her a reason, and she's left homeless and very messily heartbroken. Partly because she needs shelter and partly to spite Ray, she moves in with another coworker, Eddie (the yummy Hugh Jackman), even though she's not at all approving of his caddish manwhore ways. Now, she and Eddie are not in a relationship - Eddie can't afford his apartment without a roommate, so she's agreed to pay the other half of the rent, so long as there's no nookie.
While Hugh Jackman is extra delicious in this movie, Ashley Judd does an excellent job of killing the enjoyment factor. Her Jane isn't just an emotional mess, she is extremely public about how much of an emotional mess she is, which results in a lot of disgusting, inappropriate, and entirely unfunny tantrum scenes in which she chews out Ray, Eddie, and be-cocked human beings in general. Part of the plot of this movie is that her bitterness over the breakup has caused her to believe that men are cows - not pigs, but cows. See, the movie introduces how male cows, apparently, only mate with the same cow once - and cannot, under any circumstance, be induced to re-mate with the same "old cow." The betrayed Jane begins to apply this to men, believing that they cannot be monogamous or faithful, and that she and millions of other unlucky women are "old cows," forever doomed to watch their bulls leave them for "new cows."
She sinks so deeply into this belief, that when her equally bitter journalist girlfriend Liz suggests that Jane write a column about her theory in Liz's magazine, she does so - the kicker here being that Jane decides to write under the false identity of an esteemed, elderly doctor of psychology, so that readers will take her vengeful ramblings as scientific fact, as intelligent readers surely wouldn't if they thought they were the vengeful ramblings of an emotionally fragile twentysomething woman who has absolutely no knowledge or experience in male psychology and is writing only from her own painfully neglected errogenous zones, which they are!
Anyway, the first hour of this movie was almost enough to make me want to give up altogether - as lovely as Hugh Jackman is shirtless, there is nothing remotely entertaining in watching a needy, spiteful sadsack make an ass of herself in public. The last half manages to redeem Someone Like You, not into a movie that I myself would watch, but at least into a movie that has some sense and heart behind it.
When Jane has yet another spaztastic shrieking and crying fit in front of Ray and her boss, talkshow host Diane - Diane actually takes her aside and chides her for making everyone suffer for her bad relationship. In a very satisfying monologue, Diane reveals how her inability to reveal her feelings to her own significant other resulted in her own devastating breakup - the difference being that, she kept it to herself, because she knew she had a professional life to keep up that would not stand by and wait while she had a good cry. In a marvellous twist, Diane goes on to relate how she won her boyfriend back by finally expressing her feelings, and lo and behold, her boyfriend was Ray, and that was why he left Jane!
Now, this revelation doesn't help Jane very much - indeed, it sends her over the deep end because it basically refutes her entire "old cow, new cow" theory - that Ray didn't leave her for some New Cow, but dumped her in favour of an even Older Cow. Her delusional denial of Diane's story also irritates the hell out of Eddie, who, despite manwhoring every now and then, has been nothing but supportive and sympathetic and helpful during Jane's crisis. He's had his own share of nasty breakups (including one with the last tenant of his apartment), and he doesn't take kindly to having his gender equated with cruel, useless animals. When he finally confronts her and tells her - Hey, I'm a man, and I'm not like that! she breaks down and cries, again, but this time it counts because she's finally touched upon the core of her distress - she relied so faithfully on the New Cow/Old Cow theory because she wanted to convince herself that guys left her because it was in their rotten, bestial natures - she didn't want to consider that they left because something was actually wrong with her.
So, along comes more crying, and more sexy Hugh Jackman comforting, and finally, Jane goes on national television and apologizes for the nasty, biased bullshit she peddled under the guise of a scientific authority. She also realizes that Ray is not the only fish in the sea, or bull on the pasture, or whatever, and that guys aren't always pigs, or cows, or whatever, but can still participate in happy marriages (cue the infertile-sister-with-adoring-husband-subplot!), and consider her beautiful after she's spent the last ninety minutes of my time wailing like a banshee on a caffeine high. For her, that estimable gentleman turns out to be Hugh Jackman's Eddie (well, duh), and cue happy ending!
I have to say, I really disliked this story in which the majority of the female characters are basically bitter, envious harpies who are painfully attuned to the ever-present winding down of their biological clocks. There is nothing more repulsive to me than the twin choruses of "I need a man, I need a man" and "I hate men, I hate men". However, because the movie eventually concedes that these kinds of women are not in the right frame of mind, I'll give it a pass. Also, the movie could have demonized the Ray character - and did so for the second act - but eventually revealed him to have more realistic motivations. He wasn't a bastard, and he wasn't some wishy-washy I-can't-decide type.
The relationship between Eddie and Jane was also amazingly subtle - to the point where I was almost expecting the movie to end with them as friends, not lovers. Eddie starts out as disbelieving, then becomes sympathetic, then comforting. There wasn't a huge out-of-the-blue OMG-HUMP-HUMP love scene that made no sense, but only a realization from Jane that Eddie treats her the way she deserves (or more than she deserves) to be treated. Grade: B-
Fever Pitch
After the suffocating depression of Someone Like You, the sprightly Fever Pitch was a breath of fresh air. My sisters saw this movie back in Jasper during the Thanksgiving before last, and insisted that I watch it, and boy, am I glad I did.
In Fever Pitch, corporate exec Lindsey (Drew Barrymore) falls for likeable math teacher Ben (SNL's Jimmy Fallon). The first obstacle that comes up, surprisingly, is money. Her working-girl friends are initially iffy over the concept of their up-and-coming girlfriend going out with a lowly educator. Of course, once they actually meet her jovial and handsome beau, they relent - but a different nagging question arises: he's thirty but still single - what's the matter with him?
While his closet isn't full of garbage bags full of a life's worth of toenail clippings, he does have his own obsessions. Surprisingly, and refreshingly, he comes out and tells her the truth in the first act of the movie, without her having to ask him. A lesser movie would have had him hide it, would have included a bunch of tiresome and unfunny scenes of Ben going to drastic lengths to keep it a secret, only for it to be revealed in the third act, forcing Lindsey to accept him and his faults, point-blank, or kick him to the curb, which she wouldn't, because a lesser movie would have obviously pandered to the ridiculous happy ending.
Ever since he was seven, Ben has been a Red Sox fan - a fanatically loyal Red Sox fan. His apartment is carpetted, wallpapered, and decorated with Red Sox paraphernalia. After his baseball-loving uncle died, he inherited a lifetime's worth of season tickets, and he's gone to every game. He even goes down to Florida at the beginning of the pre-season to watch his Sox practice. He's honest about his interest - he even acknowledges that his devotion to his team has kept him out of a lot of meaningful relationships, and it's a nerve that's been rubbed pretty raw by rejection. When Lindsey appears unfazed, he's elated - but he neglects to remember that he and Lindsey began their relationship in the fall, after baseball season. She knows and loves Winter Ben - but how will she react to Summer (i.e. Baseball) Ben?
Lindsey doesn't know a whole lot about the Red Sox (and is initially teased about it by Ben's "summer family" - i.e. the people who've had season ticket seats next to his for the last twenty years), but she catches on and becomes more interested in the sport, even though her friends are worried that Ben is "colonising" her (that is, forcing her to abandon her own interests in favour of his). Of course, no matter how she loves baseball, she'll never be the fan that Ben is. Ben is the type of guy who covers his ears and hums in public when someone close to him starts talking about the Red Sox scores of a game that he's taping. He's the type of fan who'll neglect family obligations and social get-togethers if the Sox go up against the Yankees that day. He's also the type of fan who'll high-five the man who caught a Red Sox foul ball, and only afterwards check to make sure that his girlfriend, who was beaned by that same foul ball, is okay.
She's also, if I've neglected to mention, a career girl whose office is in the midst of a shake-up, and if she wants to snag the promotion she's always wanted she's going to have to develop her own obsession towards work. At first, she sees this as a win-win - with a baseball fan boyfriend, the Red Sox will keep Ben from feeling neglected when Lindsey has to devote her time to her job. Naturally, however, the relationship still becomes strained.
However, Ben is not a complete idiot. He loves the Red Sox whole-heartedly, but the movie never makes him into some cartoonish, Homer-Simpson-esque buffoon who is so selfishly attuned to the game that he forgets his girlfriend completely. He wants Lindsey to love baseball, because he loves her, and if she loves baseball she also loves that large part of him that loves baseball, too - and that's a part of him that's the most often been rejected by other women. In the middle of the film, the couple have a brief pregnancy scare - and Ben's reaction is to go out and buy Red Sox onesies (awww....), while Lindsey's is to rethink how much Ben is putting into their relationship. She respects his baseball love, but whenever she wants to go a party or whenever her friends have birthdays and anniversaries, she doesn't want to have to check the game calendar to see if Ben will go with her.
What does Ben do? He actually compromises, because he genuinely cares about Lindsey. As one of his students puts it, "You love the Red Sox, but have the Red Sox ever loved you back?" One of the reasons Ben loves baseball, as he puts it, is because it's safe - you can't have a good baseball career if you're lucky or rich, but only if you're good. It's his comfort zone. But Lindsey promises him a different kind of zone altogether - one that won't get rid of baseball, just one that will include other things as well as baseball. So he calms it down. On a night when the Sox are playing the Yankees - a type of game he usually never misses - he decides to go to a costume party with Lindsey. They have a great time, stay out late, and when they're out on the street waiting for a cab, he doesn't plug his ears when a nearby radio announces the baseball scores - six nothing Yankees, so far. After a few "home-runs" of their own, he tells Lindsey this was the best night of his life.
However, Ben eventually finds out that while he was out with Lindsey, he missed what might have been the best Red Sox game in history - in which the Sox make 8 runs in the last inning to win the game. People are partying in the streets, his friends are estatically screaming at him over the telephone, and newscasters are reporting Boston's longest conga line. Ben's repressed obsession kicks in, and frustrated, he lashes out at Lindsey, blaming her for changing his behaviour, for twisting his Red Sox loyalties. Lindsey, incredibly hurt, dumps him.
Lindsey and Ben reconcile, once again, through compromise, empathy, and understanding. Ben, feeling betrayed by the Red Sox and his own relationship with them, decides to sell his lifetime season tickets in an effort to get Lindsey back. Lindsey, finally equating her love of her "safe" job to his love of his "safe" game, runs onto the baseball diamond in the middle of the game to get his attention, because she loves his heart too much to allow him to cut away the part of it devoted to baseball.
What's most pleasant about Fever Pitch is that the couple is happy for most of the movie. There aren't really any villains in this film - there's one unpleasant yuppie couple (the wife, who's a friend of Lindsey and is a little too competitive, and the husband, who is the one who tries to buy Ben's season tickets), but that's about it. The movie isn't how a couple get together - they're already together. Fever Pitch is how a couple learns to work around and love the other's quirks is way that's easily relatable, not to mention how they learn to sacrifice parts to save the whole.
Drew Barrymore is a delight, as always, and (unlike Judd in Someone Like You and Meg Ryan in the next-to-be-mentioned Kate & Leopold) is not selfish or shrill, and doesn't play some stuck-up working-girl who has to give up her career in order to discover true love. She keeps her job, she loves her job. She works a little too hard at it, but that's something she needs to deal with, same as Ben. I loved how the baseball-love and work-love were paralleled - the movie didn't make the Ben character a freak that Lindsey had to "tame," but instead a kindred spirit whose passion was simply directed elsewhere.
And Jimmy Fallon - ooooooh, Jimmy Fallon. So cute! So very, very cute! Why isn't he in more movies? More movies that don't suck, I mean. I know he's in that upcoming Factory Girl flick, but what after that? We can't subsist on Pepsi commercials alone, Jimmy! He was sincerely adorable in this film, kind-hearted and funny and compassionate and flawed. A lovely movie detailing the evolution of a couple. A
Once I am done watching Serendipity (the last of the four films), I'll return with a double review of that and Kate & Leopold. Stay tuned!
Aspirations of Greatness
It is Sister #2's birthday today, so if you find the time, please feel free to psychically transmit some good vibes in her direction, since she has had the severe misfortune to have the anniversary of her birth coincide with her grade 12 diploma examinations. Such used to be my trouble, but no more - now that I'm at University, my birthday takes place the week after Winter Term starts, when there's absolutely no homework to be done.
As for me, I've been practicing for the upcoming Little Mermaid callback audition. I think I might actually have a shot. I've also, er, rethought (at my mother's insistance), my particular plan to grab my Bachelor of Arts diploma in a year and a half and tramp off to the Kingdom of Unimpeachable Moral Character and Unimpeded Creative Progress, Los Angeles, in order to become an Instantly Famous and Wealthy Screenwriter.
She actually suggested that I try taking some Screenwriting programs at one of our nation's fantastic film schools, like the Vancouver Film School. Tuition's pretty pricey, but since I've been able to pay for about 75% of my tuition this year and have at least 50% of next year's tuition practically in the bag (once "My Brother's Own Words" goes to press), my parents are less adverse to financially helping me in that area.
I know I must appear to be horribly flighty (or gullible) to so firmly agree on one idea, only to be easily swayed away from it, but my particular idea hasn't been killed, only postponed. While I haven't decided exactly on the Vancouver film school yet (as opposed to the others in Toronto and such), I'm sort of basing my expectations around their curriculum. A year's worth of studying at one of those schools would actually give me the one thing that would have proven to my severe disadvantage if I'd rushed off to L.A. without it: knowledge of how the film industry actually works. Plus, I'd have gained contacts with other writers, and I'd be introduced to the Canadian film industry, which is supposedly quite active in Vancouver (as is the American film industry in Vancouver - ha ha!).
Some people have advised me not to place too much importance on a film school education, so I don't think I would want to go for, say, a four-year screenwriting program - but a one-year program with contacts and stuff might do me a world of good. Plus, I'd gain the experience of living away from my parents without having to start in the Kingdom of Unimpeachable Moral Character and Unimpeded Creative Progress, Los Angeles.
Once I finished, I could start out small in Vancouver, or if I really discovered my potential, then I could run away to Los Angeles and sell my brilliant romantic comedy script. Seriously, it's good - everyone that I've related the general plot to thinks it'd be a great movie. Ha ha ha ... Now I just have to learn to pitch it.
And as for more writing news - I finally received the CICADA edit for my novella "My Brother's Own Words." Reading back on it, I have to say I was a little embarassed. Sure, it's only been two years since I wrote it, but my style's changed a lot since then - for instance, I used an assload of ridiculous speechtags like "offered, relented, chuckled". Thankfully, the edits toned down a lot of the floridness of it. I okayed the edits (suggesting only a few word changes), and the editor says that if I'm lucky, my novella will make it into the March/April 2007 issue of CICADA Magazine!
As for me, I've been practicing for the upcoming Little Mermaid callback audition. I think I might actually have a shot. I've also, er, rethought (at my mother's insistance), my particular plan to grab my Bachelor of Arts diploma in a year and a half and tramp off to the Kingdom of Unimpeachable Moral Character and Unimpeded Creative Progress, Los Angeles, in order to become an Instantly Famous and Wealthy Screenwriter.
She actually suggested that I try taking some Screenwriting programs at one of our nation's fantastic film schools, like the Vancouver Film School. Tuition's pretty pricey, but since I've been able to pay for about 75% of my tuition this year and have at least 50% of next year's tuition practically in the bag (once "My Brother's Own Words" goes to press), my parents are less adverse to financially helping me in that area.
I know I must appear to be horribly flighty (or gullible) to so firmly agree on one idea, only to be easily swayed away from it, but my particular idea hasn't been killed, only postponed. While I haven't decided exactly on the Vancouver film school yet (as opposed to the others in Toronto and such), I'm sort of basing my expectations around their curriculum. A year's worth of studying at one of those schools would actually give me the one thing that would have proven to my severe disadvantage if I'd rushed off to L.A. without it: knowledge of how the film industry actually works. Plus, I'd have gained contacts with other writers, and I'd be introduced to the Canadian film industry, which is supposedly quite active in Vancouver (as is the American film industry in Vancouver - ha ha!).
Some people have advised me not to place too much importance on a film school education, so I don't think I would want to go for, say, a four-year screenwriting program - but a one-year program with contacts and stuff might do me a world of good. Plus, I'd gain the experience of living away from my parents without having to start in the Kingdom of Unimpeachable Moral Character and Unimpeded Creative Progress, Los Angeles.
Once I finished, I could start out small in Vancouver, or if I really discovered my potential, then I could run away to Los Angeles and sell my brilliant romantic comedy script. Seriously, it's good - everyone that I've related the general plot to thinks it'd be a great movie. Ha ha ha ... Now I just have to learn to pitch it.
And as for more writing news - I finally received the CICADA edit for my novella "My Brother's Own Words." Reading back on it, I have to say I was a little embarassed. Sure, it's only been two years since I wrote it, but my style's changed a lot since then - for instance, I used an assload of ridiculous speechtags like "offered, relented, chuckled". Thankfully, the edits toned down a lot of the floridness of it. I okayed the edits (suggesting only a few word changes), and the editor says that if I'm lucky, my novella will make it into the March/April 2007 issue of CICADA Magazine!
Thursday, January 18, 2007
Callbacks!
I auditioned for the solo of my choir's Little Mermaid medley for our upcoming spring concert, and only learned at the last minute that by auditioning for the solo, you are automatically guaranteeing that you are going to go on tour. All soloists, and handbell ringers, by volunteering for those positions, are needed on tour to provide consistancy. Thank God I have a steady enough job, that I can take a week off in advance for this tour and not lose my employment.
Anyway, I was about fourth or fifth in a line of about thirty to thirty-five girls total, all of whom have seen the movie since they were five and whose greatest wish since that age has been to BE the Little Mermaid in all of her red-headed-rebellious-sixteen-year-old-fishy-glory. When I started singing, I was taken aback because the pianist was playing the song a lot slower than I was expecting it to be sung (making it more ballad than Broadway), which cramped my "acting" attempts at first, but eventually I caught on to the rhythm and finished the song with an appropriately belting last note ("I want mooooOOOOORRREE!"). Once I was done, I walked out of the room and down to the busstop. I thought I aced the audition, but only for about a hundred feet, and then I started thinking about all the things I must have done wrong with it. I was stilted for the first few long lines, my last note wasn't loud enough, I didn't act the part as much as I wanted, maybe I used too much vibrato and was a little too opera...
Needless to say, the first thing I did this morning was check my e-mail for a message from the choir director - and lo and behold: he chose five girls for callbacks, to come back and audition for the role next Wednesday. And I'M ONE OF THE FIVE! Good news: I still have a big, big chance to get the role - and he's stated that he wants the song to be very belty and Broadway! Bad news: Now I have to wait and pine and rehearse and worry FOR ANOTHER WEEK. Gah!
As for my writing, listening to a certain song from Dreamgirls somehow gave me the inspiration to start up again on my "Safety Boyfriend" screenplay, which has reminded me how much I love writing screenplays, which has me more than ever convinced that it's what I want to do for a living.
I'm actually seriously considering moving to L.A. after I graduate, and just going for it. I know it's cheesy, but in all the biographies and stories I've read of people who've made it, they all got it because they went for the throat and took a huge risk. They knocked on the Big Man's door and gave them their script, or started as the lowliest of the production company's receptionists to climb their way up, or pulled every string they owned so that someone would listen. I know I'm a great writer, and I've loved movies my whole life and I don't think there's anything else is this world that I could be as good at than screenwriting. I also think that I don't have much of a chance if I stay in Edmonton as a librarian while writing screenplays on the side.
I think this is what I would like to do - go to LA, and wait tables or fold khakis for the Gap or send millions of e-mails in an office building while writing like a madwoman at night, research the industry and take my screenplays to every agent or director or production company I can. There's no better time to do it than after I graduate - to take a risk while I'm young and foolish and resilient so that if on the unlucky chance I end up a catastrophic failure I can still recover, try out grad school again, and write novels in the evenings after cataloguing books in the afternoon. I have a family who loves me and would support me if I really needed it (although I would make every effort to make sure I didn't really need it until I actually really needed it, of course), which would not be the case if I waited for ten years until I had job security and tried it out at thirty or forty.
So far, though, even the thought of moving out of my parents' house gives me the willies, but I'm going to spend the next year and half thinking this over, saving my money, researching the movie industry, becoming less of a lazy-ass writer, and looking up Los Angeles busroutes - oh yeah, and learning how to live on my own. I'm going to need to do that, heh heh. I'm so ignorant of even basic things right now - like paying income tax, or rent, or painting a fence or cleaning a bathroom....
I have a year and half to learn these things. Wish me luck.
Anyway, I was about fourth or fifth in a line of about thirty to thirty-five girls total, all of whom have seen the movie since they were five and whose greatest wish since that age has been to BE the Little Mermaid in all of her red-headed-rebellious-sixteen-year-old-fishy-glory. When I started singing, I was taken aback because the pianist was playing the song a lot slower than I was expecting it to be sung (making it more ballad than Broadway), which cramped my "acting" attempts at first, but eventually I caught on to the rhythm and finished the song with an appropriately belting last note ("I want mooooOOOOORRREE!"). Once I was done, I walked out of the room and down to the busstop. I thought I aced the audition, but only for about a hundred feet, and then I started thinking about all the things I must have done wrong with it. I was stilted for the first few long lines, my last note wasn't loud enough, I didn't act the part as much as I wanted, maybe I used too much vibrato and was a little too opera...
Needless to say, the first thing I did this morning was check my e-mail for a message from the choir director - and lo and behold: he chose five girls for callbacks, to come back and audition for the role next Wednesday. And I'M ONE OF THE FIVE! Good news: I still have a big, big chance to get the role - and he's stated that he wants the song to be very belty and Broadway! Bad news: Now I have to wait and pine and rehearse and worry FOR ANOTHER WEEK. Gah!
As for my writing, listening to a certain song from Dreamgirls somehow gave me the inspiration to start up again on my "Safety Boyfriend" screenplay, which has reminded me how much I love writing screenplays, which has me more than ever convinced that it's what I want to do for a living.
I'm actually seriously considering moving to L.A. after I graduate, and just going for it. I know it's cheesy, but in all the biographies and stories I've read of people who've made it, they all got it because they went for the throat and took a huge risk. They knocked on the Big Man's door and gave them their script, or started as the lowliest of the production company's receptionists to climb their way up, or pulled every string they owned so that someone would listen. I know I'm a great writer, and I've loved movies my whole life and I don't think there's anything else is this world that I could be as good at than screenwriting. I also think that I don't have much of a chance if I stay in Edmonton as a librarian while writing screenplays on the side.
I think this is what I would like to do - go to LA, and wait tables or fold khakis for the Gap or send millions of e-mails in an office building while writing like a madwoman at night, research the industry and take my screenplays to every agent or director or production company I can. There's no better time to do it than after I graduate - to take a risk while I'm young and foolish and resilient so that if on the unlucky chance I end up a catastrophic failure I can still recover, try out grad school again, and write novels in the evenings after cataloguing books in the afternoon. I have a family who loves me and would support me if I really needed it (although I would make every effort to make sure I didn't really need it until I actually really needed it, of course), which would not be the case if I waited for ten years until I had job security and tried it out at thirty or forty.
So far, though, even the thought of moving out of my parents' house gives me the willies, but I'm going to spend the next year and half thinking this over, saving my money, researching the movie industry, becoming less of a lazy-ass writer, and looking up Los Angeles busroutes - oh yeah, and learning how to live on my own. I'm going to need to do that, heh heh. I'm so ignorant of even basic things right now - like paying income tax, or rent, or painting a fence or cleaning a bathroom....
I have a year and half to learn these things. Wish me luck.
Saturday, January 13, 2007
Happy Birthday to ME!
I'm 21 today y'all! Whoo!
So far, I've been having a fantastic week. Yesterday, my parents took me out to get me a "grown-up" present - a fancy watch that does not have an animated character on it. I had a little bit of indecision between the one I eventually chose and a silver watch with sparkling crystals along the bracelet with a pink mother-of-pearl face, but I eventually chose the other one because I wouldn't have wanted to wear the sparkly one on any but the most formal occasions.
It's lovely, dear readers - the bracelet is a mixture of silver and gold colours (brushed stainless steel that won't scratch), with a midnight-blue face, gold hands in the shape of isociles triangles, and a tiny, tiny diamond set in the 12 o'clock position. All day yesterday and today, my parents insist on asking "What time is it?" so that I can look at my beautiful watch and give them an estimate.
I went to my birthday party yesterday, too - probably the first of anything that could be called a birthday party for me since I was ten. My homies in the Sci-Fi club, and my friend M and her brother (whose birthday was on the 12th!) met me at the Mall, where we had dinner at Boston Pizza and then went to the movie theatre to catch a 9:25 showing of Arthur and the Invisibles. B, the Captain of the Sci-Fi club, gave me a gift certificate for Chapters (which I spent today on a copy of Peter S. Beagle's The Last Unicorn and a bargan copy of The Bachelorette Party), and M gave me an illustration she drew of one of the characters from my story "My Brother's Own Words" - a full-colour picture of Paulie, the boy who is half-parrot. I can't describe how important that picture is to me - that someone remembered the story I'd told enough to draw a fantastic picture of it. It's wonderful - she's a great artist.
The movie Arthur and the Invisibles was artistically beautiful, but narratively flawed. The story regards a boy, Arthur, whose grandmother faces eviction from her home unless he can find his vanished grandfather's secret stash of rubies. To do so, he has himself shrunk down to visit the land of the Minimoys - a tribe of tooth-sized elves who live in his backyard. The animation in these sequences was gorgeous, I loved watching it on the big screen. The story, however, was lacking in many places, to the point where I thought the ending was anti-climactic.
I heard somewhere that the playwright Chekov had a rule that if a dueling pistol is placed on the mantlepiece in the first act, it has to be shot in the third. Basically, if you introduce an element, it has to be made relevant by the time the movie is over, and this film had many elements that were introduced and not finished that it made me wonder if they were planning a sequel already. For instance, David Bowie voices the Evil M (funny, that's my Mum's nickname, too....), the villain of the film who has a contrived monologue-infodump scene where he explains that he used to be a good Minimoy king whose efforts to protect the kingdom of the Minimoys resulted in him being disfigured by evil magic. The Minimoy princess Selenia helpfully reminds him that he ALSO apparently GOT IT ON WITH A WEEVIL, which gave him more evil mojo. Anyway, the Evil M concludes his little rant by saying that the magical first kiss of a certain Minimoy princess (he comes just sort of saying "hint, hint, nudge, nudge") could free him from his torment and return him to normal, so of course I got all hot and bothered expecting my favourite "villain finds redemption" theme.
And of course it doesn't happen. The Evil M's plan to flood the Minimoy kingdom is foiled and he merely shakes his fist, abandons his (half-weevil?) son to drown, and flies away on the back of a mousquito. Of course, the princess doesn't use up her first kiss either - even with Arthur she's a bit of a cocktease. So I'm guessing that in the following films (if there are any - this movie rated an 18% positive rating on RottenTomatoes.com, ouch!), we'll deal with the Evil M and the kiss-kiss.
For today, I'm just going to sit back with the family, order some pizza with sausage, mushrooms, and black olives, and watch Idiocracy, which is totally on DVD now! Whoohoo!
So far, I've been having a fantastic week. Yesterday, my parents took me out to get me a "grown-up" present - a fancy watch that does not have an animated character on it. I had a little bit of indecision between the one I eventually chose and a silver watch with sparkling crystals along the bracelet with a pink mother-of-pearl face, but I eventually chose the other one because I wouldn't have wanted to wear the sparkly one on any but the most formal occasions.
It's lovely, dear readers - the bracelet is a mixture of silver and gold colours (brushed stainless steel that won't scratch), with a midnight-blue face, gold hands in the shape of isociles triangles, and a tiny, tiny diamond set in the 12 o'clock position. All day yesterday and today, my parents insist on asking "What time is it?" so that I can look at my beautiful watch and give them an estimate.
I went to my birthday party yesterday, too - probably the first of anything that could be called a birthday party for me since I was ten. My homies in the Sci-Fi club, and my friend M and her brother (whose birthday was on the 12th!) met me at the Mall, where we had dinner at Boston Pizza and then went to the movie theatre to catch a 9:25 showing of Arthur and the Invisibles. B, the Captain of the Sci-Fi club, gave me a gift certificate for Chapters (which I spent today on a copy of Peter S. Beagle's The Last Unicorn and a bargan copy of The Bachelorette Party), and M gave me an illustration she drew of one of the characters from my story "My Brother's Own Words" - a full-colour picture of Paulie, the boy who is half-parrot. I can't describe how important that picture is to me - that someone remembered the story I'd told enough to draw a fantastic picture of it. It's wonderful - she's a great artist.
The movie Arthur and the Invisibles was artistically beautiful, but narratively flawed. The story regards a boy, Arthur, whose grandmother faces eviction from her home unless he can find his vanished grandfather's secret stash of rubies. To do so, he has himself shrunk down to visit the land of the Minimoys - a tribe of tooth-sized elves who live in his backyard. The animation in these sequences was gorgeous, I loved watching it on the big screen. The story, however, was lacking in many places, to the point where I thought the ending was anti-climactic.
I heard somewhere that the playwright Chekov had a rule that if a dueling pistol is placed on the mantlepiece in the first act, it has to be shot in the third. Basically, if you introduce an element, it has to be made relevant by the time the movie is over, and this film had many elements that were introduced and not finished that it made me wonder if they were planning a sequel already. For instance, David Bowie voices the Evil M (funny, that's my Mum's nickname, too....), the villain of the film who has a contrived monologue-infodump scene where he explains that he used to be a good Minimoy king whose efforts to protect the kingdom of the Minimoys resulted in him being disfigured by evil magic. The Minimoy princess Selenia helpfully reminds him that he ALSO apparently GOT IT ON WITH A WEEVIL, which gave him more evil mojo. Anyway, the Evil M concludes his little rant by saying that the magical first kiss of a certain Minimoy princess (he comes just sort of saying "hint, hint, nudge, nudge") could free him from his torment and return him to normal, so of course I got all hot and bothered expecting my favourite "villain finds redemption" theme.
And of course it doesn't happen. The Evil M's plan to flood the Minimoy kingdom is foiled and he merely shakes his fist, abandons his (half-weevil?) son to drown, and flies away on the back of a mousquito. Of course, the princess doesn't use up her first kiss either - even with Arthur she's a bit of a cocktease. So I'm guessing that in the following films (if there are any - this movie rated an 18% positive rating on RottenTomatoes.com, ouch!), we'll deal with the Evil M and the kiss-kiss.
For today, I'm just going to sit back with the family, order some pizza with sausage, mushrooms, and black olives, and watch Idiocracy, which is totally on DVD now! Whoohoo!
Thursday, January 11, 2007
"Look at this stuff. Isn't it neat?"
"Wouldn't you think my collection's complete?"
Ah, The Little Mermaid. When I walked into the HMV with my Christmas money, I just knew that if I didn't buy it, in the next couple months it would be tucked away into the Disney Vault for who knows how long (like Beauty and the Beast! ARGH!).
Sure, it wasn't true to the Hans Christian Anderson story. While appreciative of the movie's charms, my mother remains puzzled as to why Disney saw fit to try and adapt this story into a children's film at all, rather than just make up a similar story about a Mermaid. To Mother, The Little Mermaid was one of the first books that made her cry. To those of who you haven't read the original, I'll break it down for you.
The mermaid trades her voice for her legs, sure, but did you know that every step she took was as painful as if she walked on knives? And that the prince ended up marrying someone else? The moral of this story came when Ariel's sisters show up, and tell her that she can escape the punishment for failing to woo the prince (none of this turn-into-kelp-with-a-face Ursula mojo - she fails, she turns into seafoam) if she kills the prince and allows the blood to flow onto her legs, which will turn her back into a mermaid. Ariel refuses, and she dies - in some other versions, she becomes a "daughter of the air", a kind of wind-sprite with the potential to earn a human soul and attain heaven, but either way she doesn't get her man. She sacrifices everything important to her for a man, and ends up punished for it. You could even say it was a cautionary tale for women, because she essentially abandoned her family's advice and allowed herself to be taken advantage of.
Sad, no? The movie is quite a bit happier than that. All respect to HCA, but I love this movie. This film was probably the movie that locked in my obsession with cinema. According to my parents, at five years old I only needed to see the movie once before I could recite entire passages from the screenplay and sing every song word-for-word from memory. I must have watched it a million times after that, which made for rewatching the film now quite an interesting experience. I hadn't seen the movie for about ten years, and throughout the movie I experienced a keen, conflicting emotion of being reminded of something while simultaneously knowing that I never forgot it. I must have locked all those memories away somewhere, and once the first song ("Fathoms Below") came on, the door was opened, and everything rushed back to the surface.
To my delight, for my university Mixed Chorus' year-end medley number, we're singing a medley from The Little Mermaid. And there is one solo in the production - Ariel's favourite half-sing, half-talk "Part of Your World" segment. Once the director announced the date of the auditions for the solo, about two dozen others girls around me gasped as one and scribbled the date in their notebooks. I just know that in the auditions, everyone is going to be singing in the exact same affected way it was performed in the movie. ("Youwantthingamabobs? Igottwenty!") I publically announced I was willing to stab someone to get the solo. While not entirely serious, I am so earnestly lustful for that solo. I'm going to practice all week, which will doubtless a) annoy the hell of of my sisters, because the solo in only about six lines long (beginning with "Look at this stuff..." and finishing with the "I want mooore" crescendo before the rest of the choir chimes in), and b) cause my parents to flashback to when I was five, which they will probably tire of quite quickly, seeing as I'm due to turn 21 this Saturday.
But I really, really, really, REALLY want to get that part. Not only would I sing it at the year-end concert, but it would appear on the CD, and would get sung and re-sung a million times while on tour. I wants it! The last time I auditioned for a solo (last year), I didn't get it - to be fair, it was supposed to be a kind of gospel-improv thing, which went to a girl and a guy who were both able to ad-lib (with varying degrees of success). But this part - this is the part for me, and Mum agrees. This is to be a Broadway part, full of expression and power. I cut my teeth on Broadway tunes (and won first place at the Kiwanis Festival, Musical Theatre Category [age 16 and up] with Camelot's "The Simple Joys of Maidenhood"), and in the choir I'm always placed in the middle row on the end, because I have an enormous, loud, carrying voice. And did I mention I've probably sung this song, like, a million times?
The thing is, I'm not going to be the only girl auditioning, and I can honestly say I have a far smaller chance of being the best singer in this kind of group. I want this part so badly I can't picture I'll do anything good if I don't get it. I can imagine myself feeling extremely resentful, probably hating the girl who does get the role, spitefully convincing myself that her voice is reedy and she's too breathy and she's obviously just imitating the original Ariel voice, singing louder than usual during rehearsals and performances just to show everyone how wrong they were not to pick me, not going on tour, skipping over the medley entirely whenever I listen to the eventual CD on my iPod...
Of course, the reason I'm writing all this down now, is so that if I don't get this role, I'll be prepared so that I don't do all those things. I probably will be incredibly depressed and resentful for a while, but I'm going to make a very great effort to be nice to the girl who does get it, and just enjoy singing as a group (because that's the entire reason I'm in the choir in the first place, because it's fun to sing with a large group of people), and singing properly in a group - I'm just as concerned about how the choir sounds as a whole, and I wouldn't sabotage the entire performance because of one solo. And who am I kidding? Of course I'm going to listen to the medley on the CD - it's just good music. I'll just try for the solo next year.
But I'd like to think I have a chance to get this solo. I'm going to run over every word, every note, every expression, about a million times this week because this movie, this song, this solo, means so much to me, and has meant this much to me for about sixteen years, in regards to the movies that I like, the music I enjoy, and the songs that I've sung. Wish me luck.
Ah, The Little Mermaid. When I walked into the HMV with my Christmas money, I just knew that if I didn't buy it, in the next couple months it would be tucked away into the Disney Vault for who knows how long (like Beauty and the Beast! ARGH!).
Sure, it wasn't true to the Hans Christian Anderson story. While appreciative of the movie's charms, my mother remains puzzled as to why Disney saw fit to try and adapt this story into a children's film at all, rather than just make up a similar story about a Mermaid. To Mother, The Little Mermaid was one of the first books that made her cry. To those of who you haven't read the original, I'll break it down for you.
The mermaid trades her voice for her legs, sure, but did you know that every step she took was as painful as if she walked on knives? And that the prince ended up marrying someone else? The moral of this story came when Ariel's sisters show up, and tell her that she can escape the punishment for failing to woo the prince (none of this turn-into-kelp-with-a-face Ursula mojo - she fails, she turns into seafoam) if she kills the prince and allows the blood to flow onto her legs, which will turn her back into a mermaid. Ariel refuses, and she dies - in some other versions, she becomes a "daughter of the air", a kind of wind-sprite with the potential to earn a human soul and attain heaven, but either way she doesn't get her man. She sacrifices everything important to her for a man, and ends up punished for it. You could even say it was a cautionary tale for women, because she essentially abandoned her family's advice and allowed herself to be taken advantage of.
Sad, no? The movie is quite a bit happier than that. All respect to HCA, but I love this movie. This film was probably the movie that locked in my obsession with cinema. According to my parents, at five years old I only needed to see the movie once before I could recite entire passages from the screenplay and sing every song word-for-word from memory. I must have watched it a million times after that, which made for rewatching the film now quite an interesting experience. I hadn't seen the movie for about ten years, and throughout the movie I experienced a keen, conflicting emotion of being reminded of something while simultaneously knowing that I never forgot it. I must have locked all those memories away somewhere, and once the first song ("Fathoms Below") came on, the door was opened, and everything rushed back to the surface.
To my delight, for my university Mixed Chorus' year-end medley number, we're singing a medley from The Little Mermaid. And there is one solo in the production - Ariel's favourite half-sing, half-talk "Part of Your World" segment. Once the director announced the date of the auditions for the solo, about two dozen others girls around me gasped as one and scribbled the date in their notebooks. I just know that in the auditions, everyone is going to be singing in the exact same affected way it was performed in the movie. ("Youwantthingamabobs? Igottwenty!") I publically announced I was willing to stab someone to get the solo. While not entirely serious, I am so earnestly lustful for that solo. I'm going to practice all week, which will doubtless a) annoy the hell of of my sisters, because the solo in only about six lines long (beginning with "Look at this stuff..." and finishing with the "I want mooore" crescendo before the rest of the choir chimes in), and b) cause my parents to flashback to when I was five, which they will probably tire of quite quickly, seeing as I'm due to turn 21 this Saturday.
But I really, really, really, REALLY want to get that part. Not only would I sing it at the year-end concert, but it would appear on the CD, and would get sung and re-sung a million times while on tour. I wants it! The last time I auditioned for a solo (last year), I didn't get it - to be fair, it was supposed to be a kind of gospel-improv thing, which went to a girl and a guy who were both able to ad-lib (with varying degrees of success). But this part - this is the part for me, and Mum agrees. This is to be a Broadway part, full of expression and power. I cut my teeth on Broadway tunes (and won first place at the Kiwanis Festival, Musical Theatre Category [age 16 and up] with Camelot's "The Simple Joys of Maidenhood"), and in the choir I'm always placed in the middle row on the end, because I have an enormous, loud, carrying voice. And did I mention I've probably sung this song, like, a million times?
The thing is, I'm not going to be the only girl auditioning, and I can honestly say I have a far smaller chance of being the best singer in this kind of group. I want this part so badly I can't picture I'll do anything good if I don't get it. I can imagine myself feeling extremely resentful, probably hating the girl who does get the role, spitefully convincing myself that her voice is reedy and she's too breathy and she's obviously just imitating the original Ariel voice, singing louder than usual during rehearsals and performances just to show everyone how wrong they were not to pick me, not going on tour, skipping over the medley entirely whenever I listen to the eventual CD on my iPod...
Of course, the reason I'm writing all this down now, is so that if I don't get this role, I'll be prepared so that I don't do all those things. I probably will be incredibly depressed and resentful for a while, but I'm going to make a very great effort to be nice to the girl who does get it, and just enjoy singing as a group (because that's the entire reason I'm in the choir in the first place, because it's fun to sing with a large group of people), and singing properly in a group - I'm just as concerned about how the choir sounds as a whole, and I wouldn't sabotage the entire performance because of one solo. And who am I kidding? Of course I'm going to listen to the medley on the CD - it's just good music. I'll just try for the solo next year.
But I'd like to think I have a chance to get this solo. I'm going to run over every word, every note, every expression, about a million times this week because this movie, this song, this solo, means so much to me, and has meant this much to me for about sixteen years, in regards to the movies that I like, the music I enjoy, and the songs that I've sung. Wish me luck.
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
A Lofty Ambition
Today, after paying $5.00 worth of postage and International Reply Coupons, "Parasite: A Love Story" has been set adrift to wander through the twisting corridors of the Canadian Postal Service on the way to Hoboken, New Jersey, to The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction. I thought I'd aim high once again. I'm not planning of making F & SF my go-to magazine right away, but I got such praise for "Parasite: A Love Story," and I felt it was such a stylistic departure for me (and especially from "My Brother's Own Words," which was the last story I sent to F & SF) that I thought I'd give it another go.
I got rid of my "What I'm Reading" elements for now - because it turns out that the reading I'm going to be doing for this year is bizarre and sporadic, and I'm going to be reading several things at once in order to keep up. No real problem for me, but it would be annoying to have to update those "What I'm Reading" things every couple of hours for accuracy. Once I'm back to reading for fun, I'll put them back up.
Our city is in the middle of a blizzard now, by the way. A real blizzard. The kind that has everyone speculatively whispering, "Did you hear about the blizzard? Supposed to hit tonight?" "What? I heard tomorrow night," before it actually happens. Doesn't happen that often in Canada, because we're used to snow and all. I woke up this morning to find four centimetres of fresh powder on my driveway, and taking the bus an hour early to get to class did absolutely jack squat because the bus ended up being two hours slow and I was late to class anyway. On the plus side, I was able to finish reading Gerthe's Faust on the way there, the translation of which was surprisingly easier to read than the Christopher Marlowe version (which I also recently finished).
Now I'm onto the Journals of Captain James Cook, which has so many seafaring symbols for policies and coordinates and wind-direction that it's like trying to read 18th-century NetSpeak: January 10th: Lnded on island 4 food & stuff, gay-a$$ natives try 2 frag us, stole r metal!!1! They r teh suk. >:-( But w/ r guns we pwnd them all, LOLZ. :-D Consequently christened the place Pwnage Bay due to our glorious victory.
After that, I'm going to read The Crying of Lot 49 by Thomas Pynchon, who like JD Salinger is supposed to be a crazy recluse who is reported to send in his secretly-coded manuscripts using elaborate means in order to preserve his identity and privacy. Weird.
I got rid of my "What I'm Reading" elements for now - because it turns out that the reading I'm going to be doing for this year is bizarre and sporadic, and I'm going to be reading several things at once in order to keep up. No real problem for me, but it would be annoying to have to update those "What I'm Reading" things every couple of hours for accuracy. Once I'm back to reading for fun, I'll put them back up.
Our city is in the middle of a blizzard now, by the way. A real blizzard. The kind that has everyone speculatively whispering, "Did you hear about the blizzard? Supposed to hit tonight?" "What? I heard tomorrow night," before it actually happens. Doesn't happen that often in Canada, because we're used to snow and all. I woke up this morning to find four centimetres of fresh powder on my driveway, and taking the bus an hour early to get to class did absolutely jack squat because the bus ended up being two hours slow and I was late to class anyway. On the plus side, I was able to finish reading Gerthe's Faust on the way there, the translation of which was surprisingly easier to read than the Christopher Marlowe version (which I also recently finished).
Now I'm onto the Journals of Captain James Cook, which has so many seafaring symbols for policies and coordinates and wind-direction that it's like trying to read 18th-century NetSpeak: January 10th: Lnded on island 4 food & stuff, gay-a$$ natives try 2 frag us, stole r metal!!1! They r teh suk. >:-( But w/ r guns we pwnd them all, LOLZ. :-D Consequently christened the place Pwnage Bay due to our glorious victory.
After that, I'm going to read The Crying of Lot 49 by Thomas Pynchon, who like JD Salinger is supposed to be a crazy recluse who is reported to send in his secretly-coded manuscripts using elaborate means in order to preserve his identity and privacy. Weird.
Sunday, January 07, 2007
SiteMeter And James/Jan Morris
I'm actually starting to really like SiteMeter - it's pretty interesting to be able to look up where the people who've seen my site live, or where they were referred (interestingly enough, one person apparently clicked on my blog while looking for "the buses in LA" on Google).
And I'm really enjoying Jan Morris The World. She really gives each place a personality, and she's not too proud to admit her mistakes, either. I just read her first essay on Sydney, where she basically destroys it, talking about how the people are cold and how obvious it was that most of them were descended from six generation of English scum (!). I think it was the first essay I read in the whole collection where she's quite mean about a place - I mean, her essays haven't always been positive, but the negative ones are usually more pitying because they describe war-torn places or extremely impoverished villages. The one about Sydney was just place bitchy. She does admit, however, how embarassed she was of her generalizations, and that takes some character.
And I'm really enjoying Jan Morris The World. She really gives each place a personality, and she's not too proud to admit her mistakes, either. I just read her first essay on Sydney, where she basically destroys it, talking about how the people are cold and how obvious it was that most of them were descended from six generation of English scum (!). I think it was the first essay I read in the whole collection where she's quite mean about a place - I mean, her essays haven't always been positive, but the negative ones are usually more pitying because they describe war-torn places or extremely impoverished villages. The one about Sydney was just place bitchy. She does admit, however, how embarassed she was of her generalizations, and that takes some character.
Saturday, January 06, 2007
The Semester's Reading
Well, I finished Catcher in the Rye. It was an interesting read, in that the protagonist Holden becomes less and less sympathetic throughout the novel. I mean, the first couple of chapters are good - he was easy to relate to because his complaining was related to an uncomfortable environment, that is, his boarding school. Everyone's had a tough time at school, so it makes sense he would be very articulate about his unhappiness.
But he runs away, and keeps complaining. He bitches about every single goddamn thing (saying "goddam" every third word as well), and blames his own failures on everyone else. He's so depressed about all the "phonies" and "perverts" out there, and goes into such detail about how their phoniness is the reason he doesn't succeed in school or make any friends or have any happiness, that after the halfway point I was just dying to kick that pretentious little know-it-all prick in the balls. His sister even calls him on it - near the end of the book, she declares that he hates everything, and when she challenges him to name one thing that he likes, he clams up. He blames it on not being able to concentrate, but eventually calls on two things that he likes - his brother Allie (who is dead) and the time he spends with his sister.
Good Lord - when asked about what he likes, Holden relies on nostalgia, on things that are gone. He is almost literally sickened by difference and change, and wants everyone to be like him. I mean, come on. How can someone be so depressed at sixteen? I almost began to suspect he was taking stronger intoxicants than alcohol, because half the things that come out of his mouth sound like the utterly senseless bullshit that are always associated in the movies with being high. I mean, the title "Catcher in the Rye" - that comes from his dream job. When he thinks about it, his dream job would be to stand on a cliff, in front of a field of rye that children are playing in (apparently it's based on a poem), and just catch any kids that are veering too close to the edge. All fucking day. I remembering thinking, "Dude - are you high?" What the hell kind of job is that? Did you just imagine that at random?
Anyway, I was kind of glad I'm finished it. Whenever I read a book, I always end up getting the author's voice in my head, and I inadvertantly start narrating my life and describing things around me in that writer's style. And I really don't like having JD Salinger's voice in my head right now, because I keep inwardly describing things using the word "goddam" in every sentence, labelling perfectly young people as "old", and finishing every third phrase with "and all" (ex: "Old Sister #2 is such so goddam happy today, all sunshine and rainbows and all.").
Soon I'm going to be starting The World, which is a collection of Jan Morris' travel writings. I think it has the potential to be very interesting, especially since this chick used to be a dude. And boy, you sure can tell when you look at her author's photo!
After that, I'm reading another travel book - the journals of Captain Cook, which should be a fun read because a few years ago, I was given a book for Christmas called Stowaway, a fictional story about a boy who stows away on Cook's ship and shares his adventures. I can't afford to spiral read my textbooks this semester (spiral read = read one book each from each class, one after the other, then repeat), because I have more books in travel writing than I do in any other class, and they're also the biggest, meatiest books I have to read. Maybe I should go and start reading them now, while I have the time...
But he runs away, and keeps complaining. He bitches about every single goddamn thing (saying "goddam" every third word as well), and blames his own failures on everyone else. He's so depressed about all the "phonies" and "perverts" out there, and goes into such detail about how their phoniness is the reason he doesn't succeed in school or make any friends or have any happiness, that after the halfway point I was just dying to kick that pretentious little know-it-all prick in the balls. His sister even calls him on it - near the end of the book, she declares that he hates everything, and when she challenges him to name one thing that he likes, he clams up. He blames it on not being able to concentrate, but eventually calls on two things that he likes - his brother Allie (who is dead) and the time he spends with his sister.
Good Lord - when asked about what he likes, Holden relies on nostalgia, on things that are gone. He is almost literally sickened by difference and change, and wants everyone to be like him. I mean, come on. How can someone be so depressed at sixteen? I almost began to suspect he was taking stronger intoxicants than alcohol, because half the things that come out of his mouth sound like the utterly senseless bullshit that are always associated in the movies with being high. I mean, the title "Catcher in the Rye" - that comes from his dream job. When he thinks about it, his dream job would be to stand on a cliff, in front of a field of rye that children are playing in (apparently it's based on a poem), and just catch any kids that are veering too close to the edge. All fucking day. I remembering thinking, "Dude - are you high?" What the hell kind of job is that? Did you just imagine that at random?
Anyway, I was kind of glad I'm finished it. Whenever I read a book, I always end up getting the author's voice in my head, and I inadvertantly start narrating my life and describing things around me in that writer's style. And I really don't like having JD Salinger's voice in my head right now, because I keep inwardly describing things using the word "goddam" in every sentence, labelling perfectly young people as "old", and finishing every third phrase with "and all" (ex: "Old Sister #2 is such so goddam happy today, all sunshine and rainbows and all.").
Soon I'm going to be starting The World, which is a collection of Jan Morris' travel writings. I think it has the potential to be very interesting, especially since this chick used to be a dude. And boy, you sure can tell when you look at her author's photo!
After that, I'm reading another travel book - the journals of Captain Cook, which should be a fun read because a few years ago, I was given a book for Christmas called Stowaway, a fictional story about a boy who stows away on Cook's ship and shares his adventures. I can't afford to spiral read my textbooks this semester (spiral read = read one book each from each class, one after the other, then repeat), because I have more books in travel writing than I do in any other class, and they're also the biggest, meatiest books I have to read. Maybe I should go and start reading them now, while I have the time...
Thursday, January 04, 2007
New Counter!
My mum uses SiteMeter on her blog, so I decided I'd use it on mine because the new template sort of erased my other counter.
The only problem is that it's reset back to one. So, if you want a more accurate account of how many people have visited by blog since it started, just take the current number on the new SiteMeter and add 4000, and you'll get an approximation. Ah well.
The only problem is that it's reset back to one. So, if you want a more accurate account of how many people have visited by blog since it started, just take the current number on the new SiteMeter and add 4000, and you'll get an approximation. Ah well.
Happy New Year
Yeah, sure, it's the fourth, so I'm a little late, so what?
As you can tell by my Reading Section, I've had to put aside the last books I have to review in order to start on the gargatuan pile of books I have to read for three classes alone. My Popular Culture Comparative Lit class hasn't even ordered its books yet, so there's going to be even more to read, unless of course the focus of the class ends up on being graphic novels again, which, unless they are different books from my Holocaust Graphic Novel class, I'm going to have to drop out and find another class. Sigh.
I had to read Interview with a Vampire for one of my classes (Popular Themes in Literature and Art), and for the most part I enjoyed it. Much better than the movie, which contributed mancandy and only mancandy - and not even good mancandy. If you've cast Antonio Banderas and Tom Cruise in the same movie together, there's absolutely no point in disguising the former as a man-geisha and the second as an obvious-fake-blond ninny. You are ruining the mancandy!
Anyway, while some parts of the novel confused me, the language was very beautiful, and allowed me to see just how much homoeroticism and borderline-pedophiliac-lust had to be gutted out in order to make the film "acceptable". Good Lord. I've been advised not to follow Anne Rice's books much further, as they tended "to get very porny," according to a reliable source.
Anyhoo, my writing is becoming a little more animated (meaning, I've actually started doing it again), and I finished my "Giant Story" and changed the titled to "Golden Opportunity." It has quite a depressing ending to it, which is a first for me, I think. But I think I managed to put an interesting twist on a fairy-tale formula, and I absolutely adore my final line, something that is also a rarity for me, since ending stories is not one of my strongest points.
I'm not sure what I'm going to work on next - Reading 'The Willow King' is calling to me. I can scarcely think about anything without applying it in some form or another to that story, because I based it on something fairly autobiographical (my relationship with fantasy novels and my two sisters). I also need to work on "Whiff," in order to rewrite it for On Spec. I think if I try rewriting it along the lines of the rejection letter's criticism (which I happened to agree with, eventually), it might turn out to be a quite different story, but that's not necessarily a bad thing. I know I've got the writing chops to be published, so even if "Whiff - Take Two" turns out vastly changed, it will still be a good story, in my opinion.
I'm also going to submit "House Hunting" to my online Fantasy Group. I wrote it too close to the deadline to get any criticism on it before sending it in for the MacTaggart Award, so I'd like to get some feedback on it before I submit. "Parasite: A Love Story," I'm going to leave as-is, but since it's a trifle more science-fictional than my other stories I'm not quite sure which magazine to send it to. It has aliens it in, but no hard-science-fictional concepts, and romance is the focus and theme. I think I might try sending it to Fantasy & Science Fiction, since it's a little bit of both, and it's been at least a year since I sent them anything. I once received advice to not send stories to the same publisher everytime, one right after another, because if they keep getting rejected, they're going to start remembering my name and automatically associating it with rejection, which might bias them towards my stories as they get better.
Once "House Hunting" is critiqued and revised, I believe I'll try another magazine. I sent a story into Realms of Fantasy once, and got an open, empty envelope in return with no return address. I had no idea if it was a rejection or an acceptance (I strongly suspect the former, since they never renewed the contact), and I don't want to try them again for a while. I might try the new Fantasy magazine, or something weirder like Lady Churchill's Rosebud Wristlet. I could even try Challenging Destiny again. Or I could head over to the Golden Gryphon website and see if they're accepting submissions for anthologies. One of the many good things of having a Locus membership is that they keep me up-to-date on all the story magazines, and on the types of stories they publish - I think they're much more reliable than the Writer's Market books.
As you can tell by my Reading Section, I've had to put aside the last books I have to review in order to start on the gargatuan pile of books I have to read for three classes alone. My Popular Culture Comparative Lit class hasn't even ordered its books yet, so there's going to be even more to read, unless of course the focus of the class ends up on being graphic novels again, which, unless they are different books from my Holocaust Graphic Novel class, I'm going to have to drop out and find another class. Sigh.
I had to read Interview with a Vampire for one of my classes (Popular Themes in Literature and Art), and for the most part I enjoyed it. Much better than the movie, which contributed mancandy and only mancandy - and not even good mancandy. If you've cast Antonio Banderas and Tom Cruise in the same movie together, there's absolutely no point in disguising the former as a man-geisha and the second as an obvious-fake-blond ninny. You are ruining the mancandy!
Anyway, while some parts of the novel confused me, the language was very beautiful, and allowed me to see just how much homoeroticism and borderline-pedophiliac-lust had to be gutted out in order to make the film "acceptable". Good Lord. I've been advised not to follow Anne Rice's books much further, as they tended "to get very porny," according to a reliable source.
Anyhoo, my writing is becoming a little more animated (meaning, I've actually started doing it again), and I finished my "Giant Story" and changed the titled to "Golden Opportunity." It has quite a depressing ending to it, which is a first for me, I think. But I think I managed to put an interesting twist on a fairy-tale formula, and I absolutely adore my final line, something that is also a rarity for me, since ending stories is not one of my strongest points.
I'm not sure what I'm going to work on next - Reading 'The Willow King' is calling to me. I can scarcely think about anything without applying it in some form or another to that story, because I based it on something fairly autobiographical (my relationship with fantasy novels and my two sisters). I also need to work on "Whiff," in order to rewrite it for On Spec. I think if I try rewriting it along the lines of the rejection letter's criticism (which I happened to agree with, eventually), it might turn out to be a quite different story, but that's not necessarily a bad thing. I know I've got the writing chops to be published, so even if "Whiff - Take Two" turns out vastly changed, it will still be a good story, in my opinion.
I'm also going to submit "House Hunting" to my online Fantasy Group. I wrote it too close to the deadline to get any criticism on it before sending it in for the MacTaggart Award, so I'd like to get some feedback on it before I submit. "Parasite: A Love Story," I'm going to leave as-is, but since it's a trifle more science-fictional than my other stories I'm not quite sure which magazine to send it to. It has aliens it in, but no hard-science-fictional concepts, and romance is the focus and theme. I think I might try sending it to Fantasy & Science Fiction, since it's a little bit of both, and it's been at least a year since I sent them anything. I once received advice to not send stories to the same publisher everytime, one right after another, because if they keep getting rejected, they're going to start remembering my name and automatically associating it with rejection, which might bias them towards my stories as they get better.
Once "House Hunting" is critiqued and revised, I believe I'll try another magazine. I sent a story into Realms of Fantasy once, and got an open, empty envelope in return with no return address. I had no idea if it was a rejection or an acceptance (I strongly suspect the former, since they never renewed the contact), and I don't want to try them again for a while. I might try the new Fantasy magazine, or something weirder like Lady Churchill's Rosebud Wristlet. I could even try Challenging Destiny again. Or I could head over to the Golden Gryphon website and see if they're accepting submissions for anthologies. One of the many good things of having a Locus membership is that they keep me up-to-date on all the story magazines, and on the types of stories they publish - I think they're much more reliable than the Writer's Market books.
Tuesday, December 26, 2006
Merry Boxing Day!
How y'all doin'? I'm fine, more or less. The family's finally finished with our enormous Christmas dinner, and now we have a week's worth of leftovers to tide us through until New Year's. I got my first iPod, a Nano, and I've already been to iTunes (I bought the Beauty and the Beast Special Edition Soundtrack).
I've been kinda worried lately, because throughout the week, I've been waking up with headaches, really weird ones that are either right behind my right eye or at the back of my head. They've come and gone (gone when I'm busy doing something, come when I try resting or reading), but lately they've been getting worse, like the motion-headaches I get when I try to read in a moving car. But I'm not moving. Of course, I've already entertained all thoughts regarding brain tumours and aneurysms and the like, but really I have no idea. It's not something to do with my eyes, as I thought originally, because I've been waking up with these headaches.
I'm beginning to suspect I might be allergic to something in my room (which is cleaned once a week but hasn't been dusted since God knows when), so I'm going to try cleaning out my room, and then sleeping on the couch for a couple of nights to see if my headaches go away.
I've been kinda worried lately, because throughout the week, I've been waking up with headaches, really weird ones that are either right behind my right eye or at the back of my head. They've come and gone (gone when I'm busy doing something, come when I try resting or reading), but lately they've been getting worse, like the motion-headaches I get when I try to read in a moving car. But I'm not moving. Of course, I've already entertained all thoughts regarding brain tumours and aneurysms and the like, but really I have no idea. It's not something to do with my eyes, as I thought originally, because I've been waking up with these headaches.
I'm beginning to suspect I might be allergic to something in my room (which is cleaned once a week but hasn't been dusted since God knows when), so I'm going to try cleaning out my room, and then sleeping on the couch for a couple of nights to see if my headaches go away.
Saturday, December 23, 2006
I've changed my format!
I was a little hesitant about joining the Blogger Beta, and especially in "customizing my design," because I didn't want to lose all the handy-dandy sidebar things that I'd painstakingly edited into my HTML code everytime I wanted to add something, but the customization process, as you can probably guess, made the actual sidebar creation process so much easier - especially in updating the "Currently Reading" and "To Be Read" sections.
I'm quite pleased with it - I adore the new label system, and now my website looks a tad more streamlined - and less pink, I KNOW, but there are nice pink accents to it now that are perfectly to my taste without overcoming the new "professional" look.
I've also started reading Jane Austen, and already I adore her. I think Elizabeth Bennett could afford to be smacked upside the head occasionally for being so incredibly gullible, but when you have a sister who's "perfectly perfect in every way" named Jane (hmmm, I wonder if Miss Austen was trying to imply something there), I guess you can afford to be an incredibly poor judge of character. And Mr. Darcy - good Lord, what an asshole! Yes, yes, I know, he's so shy and secretly sensitive...Well, I guess it could have been worse. He could have been anachronistically tolerant, and that would not have been half as realistic a romance. I'm not quite finished the book yet, but so far I'm having a fine time and I'm looking forward to reading Pamela Aidan's take on Mr. Darcy's character in the first novel of her trilogy, An Assembly Such as This.
EDIT: I keep spelling Jane Austen's name wrong...urgh! Austen not Austin!
I'm quite pleased with it - I adore the new label system, and now my website looks a tad more streamlined - and less pink, I KNOW, but there are nice pink accents to it now that are perfectly to my taste without overcoming the new "professional" look.
I've also started reading Jane Austen, and already I adore her. I think Elizabeth Bennett could afford to be smacked upside the head occasionally for being so incredibly gullible, but when you have a sister who's "perfectly perfect in every way" named Jane (hmmm, I wonder if Miss Austen was trying to imply something there), I guess you can afford to be an incredibly poor judge of character. And Mr. Darcy - good Lord, what an asshole! Yes, yes, I know, he's so shy and secretly sensitive...Well, I guess it could have been worse. He could have been anachronistically tolerant, and that would not have been half as realistic a romance. I'm not quite finished the book yet, but so far I'm having a fine time and I'm looking forward to reading Pamela Aidan's take on Mr. Darcy's character in the first novel of her trilogy, An Assembly Such as This.
EDIT: I keep spelling Jane Austen's name wrong...urgh! Austen not Austin!
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
Speak of the Devil...
Ironically enough, after making a cough-induced jab at On Spec's long wait times, I received a letter back from them. Yes, another rejection - another rejection followed by the requisite letter explaining how they receive 100 manuscripts a month and how all the workers at On Spec on volunteers, which explains why it took them four months to get back to me.
On the PLUS side, though, they had a very nice typed note at the bottom (which I nearly missed, because the On Spec rejection letter has a very bizarre space format), which offered criticism about very specific parts of "Whiff," followed by an offer to look at my story again if I rewrote it.
Now, hey! I seem to have been very lucky with my rejection letters lately - I haven't received all that many, but many of them have had encouraging notes on them entreating me to send more things. And On Spec, which receives 100 manuscripts a month, has stated that they would be willing to give my manuscript another go if I tightened it up a bit.
If I keeping working steadily through the holidays, by January, I might have a fleet of stories to send out - not only the rewrite of "Whiff," but also "Parasite: A Love Story," and "House Hunting" (now that it's been rejected for the MacTaggart Award). Better get to work!
On the PLUS side, though, they had a very nice typed note at the bottom (which I nearly missed, because the On Spec rejection letter has a very bizarre space format), which offered criticism about very specific parts of "Whiff," followed by an offer to look at my story again if I rewrote it.
Now, hey! I seem to have been very lucky with my rejection letters lately - I haven't received all that many, but many of them have had encouraging notes on them entreating me to send more things. And On Spec, which receives 100 manuscripts a month, has stated that they would be willing to give my manuscript another go if I tightened it up a bit.
If I keeping working steadily through the holidays, by January, I might have a fleet of stories to send out - not only the rewrite of "Whiff," but also "Parasite: A Love Story," and "House Hunting" (now that it's been rejected for the MacTaggart Award). Better get to work!
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
But it's not my fault...
Okay, maybe I have a little bit of a problem.
I KNOW I've been worrying (somewhat wonderfully) about the SHEER NUMBER of unread books I have stacked in tottering piles on my desk, and I realize that with book reviewing and school I'm going to have assloads more to get through.
I bought two more discounted books today, anyway.
I couldn't help it - one was Elizabeth Hand's Winterlong, mostly because while I can't give you the exact review of her story collection Saffron and Brimstone before Green Man publishes my review in January, suffice it to say that I want to have its literary babies.
And in the bottom of the discount Young Adult books bin they had Black Juice by Margo Lanaghan! BLACK JUICE! For $3.00!
It's really not fair.
I wonder if there are some sorts of programs for people like me...
I KNOW I've been worrying (somewhat wonderfully) about the SHEER NUMBER of unread books I have stacked in tottering piles on my desk, and I realize that with book reviewing and school I'm going to have assloads more to get through.
I bought two more discounted books today, anyway.
I couldn't help it - one was Elizabeth Hand's Winterlong, mostly because while I can't give you the exact review of her story collection Saffron and Brimstone before Green Man publishes my review in January, suffice it to say that I want to have its literary babies.
And in the bottom of the discount Young Adult books bin they had Black Juice by Margo Lanaghan! BLACK JUICE! For $3.00!
It's really not fair.
I wonder if there are some sorts of programs for people like me...
Free at last! Free at last!
As I am typing this, my headache-addled eyes are resting on the final copy of my Asian Film Studies research essay, recently completed. It took three days of stress to write the damn thing, and now that I'm done I can hand it in and simply not worry about anything else until January, when I will have to start fretting over important things, like my birthday.
Also, my story "House Hunting" got rejected for the MacTaggart writing award. Hey, I tried, I think it's a pretty decent story, and they got back to me surprisingly promptly (I was expecting the story to be tied up until February), unlike some people...*cough*ON SPEC*cough*.
Anyway, I think I'll start shopping "House Hunting" out to the fantasy mags, along with "Parasite: A Love Story". I've also started working on another story for Creative Writing that pokes fun at some fairytales, and that's coming along quite well . I dunno, considering "My Brother's Own Words," maybe my strengths lie with young-adult writing. I know Alice Hoffman writes for both adults and teens, and look at her work!
Yes, I'm starting to get really interested in Alice Hoffman - I adored her book The Ice Queen, and the film Practical Magic was so non-offensive I remember thinking, "If the movie's this interesting, the book has to be a billion times better!" Ha, ha. I managed to get another one of her books on Bargain at Chapters (and I also got another two books at the discount bookstore at my University--one of which, Cecelia Ahern's If You Could See Me Now, simply because I'm 75% sure it's the source material for an upcoming Hugh Jackman movie [and yes, I KNOW that getting books because my crush du jour starred in the film adaptation is not the best idea....I'm not looking forward to reading Crime and Punishment because Patrick Dempsey starred in the TV movie]), so I still have TONS to read.
Because I've been a combination of lazy/busy, I haven't updated my Reading/To Be Read graphics, so I'll update you: finished Tad Williams' Memory, Sorrow, and Thorn series for Green Man, as well as Kat Richardson's Greywalker--look for the reviews to come up sometime in January. Right now I've returned to Elizabeth Hand, and after that I will try my first Jane Austen novel--because another one of the books I'm reading for Green Man Review involves the second book in a trilogy that deals with the life of Mr. Darcy.
And oh, did I mention I picked up about fifteen novels at the University Bookstore that have to be read for next semester??? Squee! More reading!
Also, my story "House Hunting" got rejected for the MacTaggart writing award. Hey, I tried, I think it's a pretty decent story, and they got back to me surprisingly promptly (I was expecting the story to be tied up until February), unlike some people...*cough*ON SPEC*cough*.
Anyway, I think I'll start shopping "House Hunting" out to the fantasy mags, along with "Parasite: A Love Story". I've also started working on another story for Creative Writing that pokes fun at some fairytales, and that's coming along quite well . I dunno, considering "My Brother's Own Words," maybe my strengths lie with young-adult writing. I know Alice Hoffman writes for both adults and teens, and look at her work!
Yes, I'm starting to get really interested in Alice Hoffman - I adored her book The Ice Queen, and the film Practical Magic was so non-offensive I remember thinking, "If the movie's this interesting, the book has to be a billion times better!" Ha, ha. I managed to get another one of her books on Bargain at Chapters (and I also got another two books at the discount bookstore at my University--one of which, Cecelia Ahern's If You Could See Me Now, simply because I'm 75% sure it's the source material for an upcoming Hugh Jackman movie [and yes, I KNOW that getting books because my crush du jour starred in the film adaptation is not the best idea....I'm not looking forward to reading Crime and Punishment because Patrick Dempsey starred in the TV movie]), so I still have TONS to read.
Because I've been a combination of lazy/busy, I haven't updated my Reading/To Be Read graphics, so I'll update you: finished Tad Williams' Memory, Sorrow, and Thorn series for Green Man, as well as Kat Richardson's Greywalker--look for the reviews to come up sometime in January. Right now I've returned to Elizabeth Hand, and after that I will try my first Jane Austen novel--because another one of the books I'm reading for Green Man Review involves the second book in a trilogy that deals with the life of Mr. Darcy.
And oh, did I mention I picked up about fifteen novels at the University Bookstore that have to be read for next semester??? Squee! More reading!
Monday, November 27, 2006
HA! Double-HA!
When I was in elementary school, I was deeply, deeply into the Redwall series by Brian Jacques. There was actually a point, around grade five or six, when I would exclusively read Redwall books, starting again with the (chronologically) first book in the series when I was done with the last.
It took me a while to regain my senses and realize just what was so awful about the Redwall books, and I was actually planning on writing a long and detailed rant about why I think they were too black-and-white.
It seems that SomethingAwful.com beat me to it: http://www.somethingawful.com/index.php?a=4270 . It explains everything I hate about the series, and more!
It took me a while to regain my senses and realize just what was so awful about the Redwall books, and I was actually planning on writing a long and detailed rant about why I think they were too black-and-white.
It seems that SomethingAwful.com beat me to it: http://www.somethingawful.com/index.php?a=4270 . It explains everything I hate about the series, and more!
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
New Formats, Movies, and Movie Trailers
Finals week approaches, and with it, I must turn my writing skills from constructing fantasy stories to churnings out essays. I've had a relatively easy time of it so far, but crunch time is approaching. Still, once that's over, I'm home free. Creative Writing doesn't have a final exam, two of my classes' finals are take-home essays, and studying isn't necessary for English finals.
Still, the final research essay writing is going to be strenuous. At least I get to use films for some of my source materials. For my Canadian Lit class, my prof allowed me to pursue a topic in how Americans portray Canadians comically in film - so I got to watch South Park: Bigger, Longer & Uncut, Canadian Bacon, and Dudley Do-Right. Okay, so only one of those films could actually be considered good (that would be South Park, which has had me staying up to watch actual episodes now at 10:30 on the Comedy Network), but they all had something to say about the film. But I can't tell you guys that! I have to write it into my essay!
Also - I discovered the Blogger has a new format which allows for tags, which is excellent, in my opinion. I'm going to see if I can edit previous posts to do this as well. There are tons of posts that would have been a million times easier to find if they had tags.
The past couple of weeks have been generally uneventful, except for a few choice moments. Camilla Gibb is my Univeristy's Writer-In-Residence for the fall semester, and I gave her a copy of "Parasite: A Love Story" when she came to lecture at my Creative Writing class. Well, a few weeks later, we had a meeting, where she basically told me how much she loved it. Really! She had good critical comments, of course (like chopping off the last few paragraphs - which has helped more than few of my stories become better), but she actually said, "I'm sorry this meeting's so brief. There just isn't enough wrong with [your story]!"
*fangirlsqueal*Eeeeeeee!*squeal*
Once I get marked on it in Creative Writing, I'm submitting it, and because it has a sci-fi bent, I might try Asimov's, or Analog...or maybe something smaller. ^_^;; I still haven't heard back from On Spec, and they're situated in my city! And I sent my story in months ago! Argh. Camilla Gibb once said she had to wait three years before an accepted story got published. Short-story writing doesn't seem to be the best way to make a living, but right now I don't think I'm ready to write novels yet. I have trouble managing groups of characters, and subplots, and setting--so of course, writing stories with a more limited scope is much simpler.
And as for movie news - I saw the new Spider-Man 3 trailer! Well, actually, I saw both the trailers - the official one, and the leaked one with Venom footage that got pulled off YouTube and Ain't It Cool News by Sony's henchman. The first one, while revealing some good scenes, was altogether disappointing (read: no Venom, little Topher, no Gwen). The second one was much better--even though the special effects scenes in that one weren't finished yet. It was altogether more dramatic and cohesive, I felt. And the Venom footage was completely awesome! Teeth, voice, look - perfect. I have the feeling that while the official one will be shown with Casino Royale, this second one (once it's finished) will be the second trailer shown when Ghostrider comes out in February. I can't wait.
Also, I'm trying very hard to like the upcoming Dax Shepard movies. He was excellent, excellent in Zathura - and the trailers for Employee of the Month and Let's Go to Prison looked funny. And, from what limited reviews there are, he's considered one of the funnier characters in Mike Judge's criminally undermarketed Idiocracy. So I'm trying to be optimistic. Employee of the Month had several good points about it - although most of them were due to Dane Cook (not entirely offensive, as I assumed he would be) and Shepard. But the reviews for Prison look deadly, and worst of all, lots of the reviewers are saying, "Well, it's a Dax Shepard movie. What did you expect?"
What? No! Watch Zathura, people! Argh!
Someone cast him in a good movie - it's bad enough that 70% of Patrick Dempsey's movies are absolute crap (although Enchanted looks to be fantastic - if a long way off)
Ah well, I guess even if that doesn't pan out, I still have Tobey Maguire (Spider-Man 3, The Good German) and Topher Grace (Spider-Man 3, The Crusaders) to star in movies worth spending money on.
Still, the final research essay writing is going to be strenuous. At least I get to use films for some of my source materials. For my Canadian Lit class, my prof allowed me to pursue a topic in how Americans portray Canadians comically in film - so I got to watch South Park: Bigger, Longer & Uncut, Canadian Bacon, and Dudley Do-Right. Okay, so only one of those films could actually be considered good (that would be South Park, which has had me staying up to watch actual episodes now at 10:30 on the Comedy Network), but they all had something to say about the film. But I can't tell you guys that! I have to write it into my essay!
Also - I discovered the Blogger has a new format which allows for tags, which is excellent, in my opinion. I'm going to see if I can edit previous posts to do this as well. There are tons of posts that would have been a million times easier to find if they had tags.
The past couple of weeks have been generally uneventful, except for a few choice moments. Camilla Gibb is my Univeristy's Writer-In-Residence for the fall semester, and I gave her a copy of "Parasite: A Love Story" when she came to lecture at my Creative Writing class. Well, a few weeks later, we had a meeting, where she basically told me how much she loved it. Really! She had good critical comments, of course (like chopping off the last few paragraphs - which has helped more than few of my stories become better), but she actually said, "I'm sorry this meeting's so brief. There just isn't enough wrong with [your story]!"
*fangirlsqueal*Eeeeeeee!*squeal*
Once I get marked on it in Creative Writing, I'm submitting it, and because it has a sci-fi bent, I might try Asimov's, or Analog...or maybe something smaller. ^_^;; I still haven't heard back from On Spec, and they're situated in my city! And I sent my story in months ago! Argh. Camilla Gibb once said she had to wait three years before an accepted story got published. Short-story writing doesn't seem to be the best way to make a living, but right now I don't think I'm ready to write novels yet. I have trouble managing groups of characters, and subplots, and setting--so of course, writing stories with a more limited scope is much simpler.
And as for movie news - I saw the new Spider-Man 3 trailer! Well, actually, I saw both the trailers - the official one, and the leaked one with Venom footage that got pulled off YouTube and Ain't It Cool News by Sony's henchman. The first one, while revealing some good scenes, was altogether disappointing (read: no Venom, little Topher, no Gwen). The second one was much better--even though the special effects scenes in that one weren't finished yet. It was altogether more dramatic and cohesive, I felt. And the Venom footage was completely awesome! Teeth, voice, look - perfect. I have the feeling that while the official one will be shown with Casino Royale, this second one (once it's finished) will be the second trailer shown when Ghostrider comes out in February. I can't wait.
Also, I'm trying very hard to like the upcoming Dax Shepard movies. He was excellent, excellent in Zathura - and the trailers for Employee of the Month and Let's Go to Prison looked funny. And, from what limited reviews there are, he's considered one of the funnier characters in Mike Judge's criminally undermarketed Idiocracy. So I'm trying to be optimistic. Employee of the Month had several good points about it - although most of them were due to Dane Cook (not entirely offensive, as I assumed he would be) and Shepard. But the reviews for Prison look deadly, and worst of all, lots of the reviewers are saying, "Well, it's a Dax Shepard movie. What did you expect?"
What? No! Watch Zathura, people! Argh!
Someone cast him in a good movie - it's bad enough that 70% of Patrick Dempsey's movies are absolute crap (although Enchanted looks to be fantastic - if a long way off)
Ah well, I guess even if that doesn't pan out, I still have Tobey Maguire (Spider-Man 3, The Good German) and Topher Grace (Spider-Man 3, The Crusaders) to star in movies worth spending money on.
Wednesday, November 01, 2006
Screenplay Sample: My character arc for Danny Tigers, for the Virtual Season of "Heroes"
Enjoy:
CHAPTER ONE – GROWING PAINS
INT. – DRAMA ROOM – AFTERNOON
STEPHANIE, a student, is in the center of the room, surrounded by students and DANIEL, who are seated in chairs. She remains silent as she hops around in a circle, making wild gestures with her arms and hands. DANIEL is watching her, but his eyes have a glazed expression. At the end of her performance, STEPHANIE falls to the floor, assuming a stylized prostrate position. There is mild applause, and DANIEL gives a jerk, blinks, and starts clapping as well.
DANIEL
Well…yes. Very good, Stephanie. Very, um, quiet.
STEPHANIE gets up, beaming and panting from her exertions.
STEPHANIE
I thought that the dynamics of the narrative would be better served through interpretive dance.
DANIEL opens his mouth to speak, and hesitates. The school bell rings, and the students get up to leave, all except STEPHANIE, who stays behind.
STEPHANIE
So, what did you think?
DANIEL
That was the school bell, Stephanie.
STEPHANIE
My project, Mr. Leon. What did you think of it? Did I get an A?
DANIEL
I’m pretty sure you have classes to get to.
STEPHANIE
I’m pretty sure I’m getting an A on this project, but I’d like to know for sure.
DANIEL sighs, lets his gaze wander for a minute, then brings his attention back to his student.
DANIEL
B.
STEPHANIE (incredulous)
B?
DANIEL
Minus.
STEPHANIE
B minus? You can’t be serious.
DANIEL
No, but I try, I really do. B minus, Stephanie.
STEPHANIE
I had the best performance in the whole class! I had choreography!
DANIEL
The assignment was to do a study in dialogue – you didn’t say a word throughout the whole thing.
STEPHANIE
I wasn’t saying words – I was conveying them. With body language. With art.
DANIEL
Well, consider that the reason you didn’t get a D. Everyone else came up with something to say.
STEPHANIE backs off, crossing her arms in a sullen position.
STEPHANIE
So is that it? I don’t get an A because I didn’t conform to your narrow little idea of what acting is? Because I thought outside the box, for once? Acting is about humanity!
DANIEL
You’re sixteen, you barely know what humanity is. I gave you an assignment, you didn’t complete it, you came up with something different, so you got a B minus. Feel free to lay on some of that gratitude anytime you like.
STEPHANIE
Yeah, well you’re old. You’re like, some old guy who did two movies a hundred years ago so you think you know everything. Where’s your Oscar, Mr. Leon? Where’s your People’s Choice Award? You know what I think, Mr. Leon?
DANIEL
No, I don’t, a fact for which I am supremely grateful.
STEPHANIE
I think that I have the ability go somewhere, to do something important, and when you look at me, you see someone who won’t screw things up like you did, and some weird Has-Been switch in your head goes off, so you think you have to wreck things for me.
DANIEL
When I look at you Stephanie…
STEPHANIE (interrupting)
What?
DANIEL (continuing)
…I see a sixteen year old girl who has two years of highschool left. A B minus is nothing. You’ll get over it. You’ll have to, if you want to be half the actor I was twenty years ago.
STEPHANIE
Yeah, whatever. You suck, Mr. Leon.
STEPHANIE walks to the door, opens it, and leaves, slamming the door behind her.
CUT TO INT. – SCHOOL HALLWAY. Same time.
DANIEL opens the door and exits the classroom with his briefcase. Students rush by him in both directions. One, BOBBY, bumps into him. DANIEL is thrown back against the wall and he drops his briefcase, which opens and spills papers everywhere.
DANIEL
Whoa, there! Where are the strippers?
DANIEL offers his hand to be let up, but BOBBY flinches away, ducks his head, and continues on his way.
DANIEL
Spooky kid.
CUT TO INT. – STAFF LOUNGE.
DANIEL walks into the Staff lounge, gets himself a mug, and pours himself some coffee. He takes a gulp and winces. PHILLIP watches while seated on a ratty couch.
DANIEL
Ugh, it’s cold.
PHILLIP
Iced coffees are all the rage now – it’s how all the cool kids are drinking it.
DANIEL
Oh good, I’m cool now.
PHILLIP
It’s 2:15, man. You just had your last class.
DANIEL drinks more coffee.
DANIEL
You have no idea how much I need this.
PHILLIP
I can guess – Stephanie Gradner?
DANIEL stares at PHILLIP.
PHILLIP
I taught drama for once semester before you showed up, remember? She was in that class, too. She’s St. Matthew’s very own diva. Got a dressing room and a posse and everything.
DANIEL
Yeah, all she needs is a deaf casting agent and a very tolerant, very patient, and very horny producer, and she’s all set.
PHILLIP
Well, it worked for you didn’t it?
DANIEL
Twenty years ago, Phil. All producers were patient and horny then. Now they’re just horny. She has a bright future of arty toothpaste commercials ahead of her.
PHILLIP
Ouch.
DANIEL
How is she in your math class, these days? Does she bemoan having to conform to the Pythagoras Theorem?
PHILLIP
I don’t doubt that you were just as stupid and just as eager and just as determined to get laid when you were young.
DANIEL finishes off the coffee, puts down the mug, and smiles.
DANIEL
Ah ha, that’s where you’re wrong. I’m still just as stupid and eager and determined to get laid. You open tonight for the Glass Olive?
PHILLIP
Let me check my day timer.
PHILLIP mimes opening a daytimer, and pretends to rifle through its pages.
PHILLIP
Checking…checking…Nope. I don’t have any day this week where I’m able to switch bodies with a strapping 25-year-old bodybuilder with a full head of hair. And Balding Geek’s Night was yesterday. Can you take a rain check?
DANIEL
Aw, c’mon! It wouldn’t be that bad.
PHILLIP
The average age of the Glass Olive regular is ‘old enough to drink in Canada, but young enough to be underage in the States’. How many times can you be told, “I’m sorry, you’re not my type, but my mom was a big fan of you” in one night without giving up? Or have you just become immune to it all?
DANIEL
I’m developing a theory that for every one hundred girls who say “my mom was really into you”, there’ll be one who says “Gee, you were in movies once” and will hesitate long enough to let me feel her up before she reaches into her purse and hands me the script she wants me to consider.
PHILLIP
How many girls has it been, Daniel?
DANIEL
One hundred and three – but four don’t count. Two thought I was Matt Dillon, one had me confused with that annoying Ford dealer on the North side, and the last one was an actual fan of my films – but still thought I was too old for her.
PHILLIP
You got dumped by a Tigerette? Harsh.
DANIEL
Are you going to come, or not?
PHILLIP
I’ll have to program my VCR to tape Ghost Whisperer, but yeah, I’ll come.
DANIEL
Alright!
DANIEL and PHILLIP do a high-five at the same time that PRINCIPAL GENBUCK enters. GENBUCK glares pointedly at DANIEL, before picking up a stack of papers on a table and walking out again.
DANIEL
Man, am I going to have to start teaching full-time before Ms. Genbuck stops trying to castrate me with her eyes?
PHILLIP
Nah – I think she just likes you. Twenty bucks says she has a poster of you in her bedroom.
DANIEL
You are an evil little man.
CUT to EXT. – NIGHTCLUB: A bright neon sign of a martini glass, with lettering beside it that says “The Glass Olive”. There is loud, thumping music, and a BOUNCER by the door. BOUNCER grins when he sees DANIEL and PHILLIP approach.
BOUNCER
Dan my man. Back for another ride on the Rejection Express?
DANIEL
Nah, I’m getting on the Cradle Robber tonight.
BOUNCER
Haven’t you seen the sign? It says ‘You must be this rich to ride that ride’.
BOUNCER lifts his hand to demonstrate – he holds it high above DANIEL’S head. DANIEL laughs it off.
DANIEL
Just let us in, won’t you? I wouldn’t want to keep you from your next steroid injection.
BOUNCER pretends to aim at punch at DANIEL’s face.
DANIEL (to PHILLIP)
See that, right there? Rage is one of the first signs of overuse.
BOUNCER
Get in already. You’re going to be leaving soon enough.
BOUNCER gestures the two in.
CUT to INT. – NIGHTCLUB.
DANIEL and PHILLIP go up to the bar, which is being tended by two bartenders, one male, and one female.
DANIEL (to the FEMALE BARTENDER)
Rum and coke, pretty lady. Seabreeze for my friend.
DANIEL winks. BARTENDER rolls her eyes, then turns to prepare the drinks. PHILLIP stands up and drapes his coat over the barstool.
DANIEL
Where are you going?
PHILLIP
I need to powder my nose.
DANIEL
What? We just got here, man. Didn’t you go before we left?
PHILLIP
By powder my nose, I mean powder the top of my head so that the shine doesn’t blind the beautiful women here.
DANIEL
Whatever works for you, Phil, but I gotta say – blindness could be turned to your advantage.
PHILLIP laughs half-heartedly, and leaves for the bathroom. For a few minutes, DANIEL sits at the bar, bobbing his head to the music. Turning to his right, he notices a young blonde woman. He smiles and winks at her. She returns the smile, amused, before turning away. DANIEL’s smile breaks into a wide grin – and a change comes over his features. The skin becomes more smooth and tight, his nose more pronounced, his hair curlier – within a few seconds, DANIEL has unwitting morphed into a 17-year-old version of himself.
DANIEL rises from his chair, crosses the room, and sits himself down next to the blonde. She turns, reacts with surprise, then becomes genuinely flirtatious.
BLONDE
Wow, weird lighting we have in here.
DANIEL
I don’t mind it – some guys need that extra advantage or else they’d never go anywhere.
BLONDE (laughing)
Not that you need any.
DANIEL
Why, thank you. Hey, you here by yourself?
BLONDE
Not anymore. You remind me of someone.
DANIEL
Really? Can I guess?
DANIEL starts humming the theme music from his 80s film, Tick-Tock. BLONDE laughs, delighted.
BLONDE
Oh my God, the music from Tick-Tock! That’s right, Danny Tiger! You really look like him.
DANIEL
So I’ve been told.
BLONDE
That was my favourite movie when I was little – I doubt I understood half of it. I wonder what happened to Danny Tiger.
DANIEL
Twenty years later, he walked into a bar and sat next to a pretty young thing.
BLONDE
You? Maybe – I’m open to the idea of reincarnation.
DANIEL dons a confused expression.
DANIEL
Excuse me?
At this point, the male BARTENDER takes notice of the younger DANIEL and moves towards him.
MALE BARTENDER
Hey buddy – could you show some I.D. please? You too, Miss.
DANIEL laughs.
DANIEL
If I wasn’t straight, I’d buy you a drink for that remark.
MALE BARTENDER
Just show me your I.D., kid.
BLONDE fishes through her purse for her ID, and DANIEL opens his wallet, a good-natured grin on his face. They both hand over their driver’s licenses, and the MALE BARTENDER looks at them both. His expression darkens.
MALE BARTENDER
I’m going to have to ask you to leave.
BLONDE pouts.
DANIEL
Okay, now, fun’s over. You’re killing my game, here.
MALE BARTENDER
You’re jeopardizing our liquor license, kid. Take your chick and get out of here.
MALE BARTENDER tosses them their IDs back.
MALE BARTENDER
And if you want a piece of advice, if you’re so bent on getting wasted before turning the big one-eight, have the decency to go out and get a fake ID that’s at least partially believable. Using your dad’s license is just lazy.
DANIEL pockets his ID, stands up, and leans on the counter.
DANIEL
Hey! I’ve got a good ten years on you, at least. I shouldn’t have to put up with this crap. Your partner over there –
DANIEL gestures at the FEMALE BARTENDER, who turns her head and heads in the direction of the commotion.
DANIEL (continuing)
Sold me a rum and coke with no questions asked. A rum and coke, I might add, that I haven’t had yet.
MALE BARTENDER (to FEMALE)
You sell this punk a drink?
FEMALE BARTENDER
Hell no. Never seen him in here before.
BLONDE tugs at DANIEL’s shoulder.
BLONDE
C’mon, Tiger, they caught us. Don’t get us in any more trouble.
DANIEL
I’M not the one who’s in trouble. I’ve come to this bar for months! Just ask my buddy Phil. Phil, Phil? Where are you, Phil?
As DANIEL continues ranting and looking for his companion PHILLIP, MALE BARTENDER gestures to someone behind DANIEL and the BLONDE. Two large hands descend on DANIEL’s shoulders – the hands of the BOUNCER.
DANIEL
Huh?
CUT TO EXT. Nightclub – Night.
DANIEL and BLONDE are unceremoniously tossed out of the Glass Olive.
DANIEL
What the HELL, man?
BLONDE reaches into Daniel’s pocket, withdraws his wallet, and looks at his ID. She starts laughing.
BLONDE (laughing)
Oh man, is that your Dad? He’s not that bad looking.
DANIEL
This is an outrage! (yelling at BOUNCER) I have a constitutional right to get hammered!
BOUNCER responds by waving genially, unfazed. BLONDE, wobbling, latches on to DANIEL’s arm.
BLONDE
Don’t worry about it, Danny – I get kicked out of bars all the time. My stupid brother made my ID – it only works half the time. It’s better than yours though.
DANIEL stops short, and gives BLONDE a closer look.
DANIEL
Please tell me you’re eighteen.
BLONDE shakes her head, grinning.
DANIEL
Seventeen – with only a week to go before you turn eighteen?
BLONDE
Sixteen.
BLONDE lays a finger over her mouth in an exaggerated “quiet” gesture.
BLONDE
Shhhh….Don’t tell.
DANIEL
Oh man….
DANIEL rapidly backs away from the BLONDE. BLONDE persists – approaching him with as much determination as he tries to get away from her.
DANIEL
I could get arrested for this!
BLONDE
Arrested for what? I didn’t even have to time get drunk before we got tossed.
BLONDE makes a dash for DANIEL, DANIEL turns and nearly bumps into a glass window of a shop adjoining the Glass Olive. BLONDE wraps her arms around DANIEL’s neck at the same time he catches a glimpse of his 17-year-old reflection. DANIEL pauses for about five seconds of shock, before wriggling madly out of BLONDE’s grip.
BLONDE
Damn, Danny. What’s your dysfunction?
DANIEL darts forward, snatching his license out of BLONDE’s hands.
DANIEL
I – I – I gotta go. Right now. I have to leave.
DANIEL breaks into a wild sprint towards his car. He jams his key into the lock, gets in, starts the ignition, and peels off with a squeal of tires. BLONDE watches his car depart with a contemptuous look on her face.
BLONDE
What a freak.
END OF CHAPTER ONE.
CHAPTER ONE – GROWING PAINS
INT. – DRAMA ROOM – AFTERNOON
STEPHANIE, a student, is in the center of the room, surrounded by students and DANIEL, who are seated in chairs. She remains silent as she hops around in a circle, making wild gestures with her arms and hands. DANIEL is watching her, but his eyes have a glazed expression. At the end of her performance, STEPHANIE falls to the floor, assuming a stylized prostrate position. There is mild applause, and DANIEL gives a jerk, blinks, and starts clapping as well.
DANIEL
Well…yes. Very good, Stephanie. Very, um, quiet.
STEPHANIE gets up, beaming and panting from her exertions.
STEPHANIE
I thought that the dynamics of the narrative would be better served through interpretive dance.
DANIEL opens his mouth to speak, and hesitates. The school bell rings, and the students get up to leave, all except STEPHANIE, who stays behind.
STEPHANIE
So, what did you think?
DANIEL
That was the school bell, Stephanie.
STEPHANIE
My project, Mr. Leon. What did you think of it? Did I get an A?
DANIEL
I’m pretty sure you have classes to get to.
STEPHANIE
I’m pretty sure I’m getting an A on this project, but I’d like to know for sure.
DANIEL sighs, lets his gaze wander for a minute, then brings his attention back to his student.
DANIEL
B.
STEPHANIE (incredulous)
B?
DANIEL
Minus.
STEPHANIE
B minus? You can’t be serious.
DANIEL
No, but I try, I really do. B minus, Stephanie.
STEPHANIE
I had the best performance in the whole class! I had choreography!
DANIEL
The assignment was to do a study in dialogue – you didn’t say a word throughout the whole thing.
STEPHANIE
I wasn’t saying words – I was conveying them. With body language. With art.
DANIEL
Well, consider that the reason you didn’t get a D. Everyone else came up with something to say.
STEPHANIE backs off, crossing her arms in a sullen position.
STEPHANIE
So is that it? I don’t get an A because I didn’t conform to your narrow little idea of what acting is? Because I thought outside the box, for once? Acting is about humanity!
DANIEL
You’re sixteen, you barely know what humanity is. I gave you an assignment, you didn’t complete it, you came up with something different, so you got a B minus. Feel free to lay on some of that gratitude anytime you like.
STEPHANIE
Yeah, well you’re old. You’re like, some old guy who did two movies a hundred years ago so you think you know everything. Where’s your Oscar, Mr. Leon? Where’s your People’s Choice Award? You know what I think, Mr. Leon?
DANIEL
No, I don’t, a fact for which I am supremely grateful.
STEPHANIE
I think that I have the ability go somewhere, to do something important, and when you look at me, you see someone who won’t screw things up like you did, and some weird Has-Been switch in your head goes off, so you think you have to wreck things for me.
DANIEL
When I look at you Stephanie…
STEPHANIE (interrupting)
What?
DANIEL (continuing)
…I see a sixteen year old girl who has two years of highschool left. A B minus is nothing. You’ll get over it. You’ll have to, if you want to be half the actor I was twenty years ago.
STEPHANIE
Yeah, whatever. You suck, Mr. Leon.
STEPHANIE walks to the door, opens it, and leaves, slamming the door behind her.
CUT TO INT. – SCHOOL HALLWAY. Same time.
DANIEL opens the door and exits the classroom with his briefcase. Students rush by him in both directions. One, BOBBY, bumps into him. DANIEL is thrown back against the wall and he drops his briefcase, which opens and spills papers everywhere.
DANIEL
Whoa, there! Where are the strippers?
DANIEL offers his hand to be let up, but BOBBY flinches away, ducks his head, and continues on his way.
DANIEL
Spooky kid.
CUT TO INT. – STAFF LOUNGE.
DANIEL walks into the Staff lounge, gets himself a mug, and pours himself some coffee. He takes a gulp and winces. PHILLIP watches while seated on a ratty couch.
DANIEL
Ugh, it’s cold.
PHILLIP
Iced coffees are all the rage now – it’s how all the cool kids are drinking it.
DANIEL
Oh good, I’m cool now.
PHILLIP
It’s 2:15, man. You just had your last class.
DANIEL drinks more coffee.
DANIEL
You have no idea how much I need this.
PHILLIP
I can guess – Stephanie Gradner?
DANIEL stares at PHILLIP.
PHILLIP
I taught drama for once semester before you showed up, remember? She was in that class, too. She’s St. Matthew’s very own diva. Got a dressing room and a posse and everything.
DANIEL
Yeah, all she needs is a deaf casting agent and a very tolerant, very patient, and very horny producer, and she’s all set.
PHILLIP
Well, it worked for you didn’t it?
DANIEL
Twenty years ago, Phil. All producers were patient and horny then. Now they’re just horny. She has a bright future of arty toothpaste commercials ahead of her.
PHILLIP
Ouch.
DANIEL
How is she in your math class, these days? Does she bemoan having to conform to the Pythagoras Theorem?
PHILLIP
I don’t doubt that you were just as stupid and just as eager and just as determined to get laid when you were young.
DANIEL finishes off the coffee, puts down the mug, and smiles.
DANIEL
Ah ha, that’s where you’re wrong. I’m still just as stupid and eager and determined to get laid. You open tonight for the Glass Olive?
PHILLIP
Let me check my day timer.
PHILLIP mimes opening a daytimer, and pretends to rifle through its pages.
PHILLIP
Checking…checking…Nope. I don’t have any day this week where I’m able to switch bodies with a strapping 25-year-old bodybuilder with a full head of hair. And Balding Geek’s Night was yesterday. Can you take a rain check?
DANIEL
Aw, c’mon! It wouldn’t be that bad.
PHILLIP
The average age of the Glass Olive regular is ‘old enough to drink in Canada, but young enough to be underage in the States’. How many times can you be told, “I’m sorry, you’re not my type, but my mom was a big fan of you” in one night without giving up? Or have you just become immune to it all?
DANIEL
I’m developing a theory that for every one hundred girls who say “my mom was really into you”, there’ll be one who says “Gee, you were in movies once” and will hesitate long enough to let me feel her up before she reaches into her purse and hands me the script she wants me to consider.
PHILLIP
How many girls has it been, Daniel?
DANIEL
One hundred and three – but four don’t count. Two thought I was Matt Dillon, one had me confused with that annoying Ford dealer on the North side, and the last one was an actual fan of my films – but still thought I was too old for her.
PHILLIP
You got dumped by a Tigerette? Harsh.
DANIEL
Are you going to come, or not?
PHILLIP
I’ll have to program my VCR to tape Ghost Whisperer, but yeah, I’ll come.
DANIEL
Alright!
DANIEL and PHILLIP do a high-five at the same time that PRINCIPAL GENBUCK enters. GENBUCK glares pointedly at DANIEL, before picking up a stack of papers on a table and walking out again.
DANIEL
Man, am I going to have to start teaching full-time before Ms. Genbuck stops trying to castrate me with her eyes?
PHILLIP
Nah – I think she just likes you. Twenty bucks says she has a poster of you in her bedroom.
DANIEL
You are an evil little man.
CUT to EXT. – NIGHTCLUB: A bright neon sign of a martini glass, with lettering beside it that says “The Glass Olive”. There is loud, thumping music, and a BOUNCER by the door. BOUNCER grins when he sees DANIEL and PHILLIP approach.
BOUNCER
Dan my man. Back for another ride on the Rejection Express?
DANIEL
Nah, I’m getting on the Cradle Robber tonight.
BOUNCER
Haven’t you seen the sign? It says ‘You must be this rich to ride that ride’.
BOUNCER lifts his hand to demonstrate – he holds it high above DANIEL’S head. DANIEL laughs it off.
DANIEL
Just let us in, won’t you? I wouldn’t want to keep you from your next steroid injection.
BOUNCER pretends to aim at punch at DANIEL’s face.
DANIEL (to PHILLIP)
See that, right there? Rage is one of the first signs of overuse.
BOUNCER
Get in already. You’re going to be leaving soon enough.
BOUNCER gestures the two in.
CUT to INT. – NIGHTCLUB.
DANIEL and PHILLIP go up to the bar, which is being tended by two bartenders, one male, and one female.
DANIEL (to the FEMALE BARTENDER)
Rum and coke, pretty lady. Seabreeze for my friend.
DANIEL winks. BARTENDER rolls her eyes, then turns to prepare the drinks. PHILLIP stands up and drapes his coat over the barstool.
DANIEL
Where are you going?
PHILLIP
I need to powder my nose.
DANIEL
What? We just got here, man. Didn’t you go before we left?
PHILLIP
By powder my nose, I mean powder the top of my head so that the shine doesn’t blind the beautiful women here.
DANIEL
Whatever works for you, Phil, but I gotta say – blindness could be turned to your advantage.
PHILLIP laughs half-heartedly, and leaves for the bathroom. For a few minutes, DANIEL sits at the bar, bobbing his head to the music. Turning to his right, he notices a young blonde woman. He smiles and winks at her. She returns the smile, amused, before turning away. DANIEL’s smile breaks into a wide grin – and a change comes over his features. The skin becomes more smooth and tight, his nose more pronounced, his hair curlier – within a few seconds, DANIEL has unwitting morphed into a 17-year-old version of himself.
DANIEL rises from his chair, crosses the room, and sits himself down next to the blonde. She turns, reacts with surprise, then becomes genuinely flirtatious.
BLONDE
Wow, weird lighting we have in here.
DANIEL
I don’t mind it – some guys need that extra advantage or else they’d never go anywhere.
BLONDE (laughing)
Not that you need any.
DANIEL
Why, thank you. Hey, you here by yourself?
BLONDE
Not anymore. You remind me of someone.
DANIEL
Really? Can I guess?
DANIEL starts humming the theme music from his 80s film, Tick-Tock. BLONDE laughs, delighted.
BLONDE
Oh my God, the music from Tick-Tock! That’s right, Danny Tiger! You really look like him.
DANIEL
So I’ve been told.
BLONDE
That was my favourite movie when I was little – I doubt I understood half of it. I wonder what happened to Danny Tiger.
DANIEL
Twenty years later, he walked into a bar and sat next to a pretty young thing.
BLONDE
You? Maybe – I’m open to the idea of reincarnation.
DANIEL dons a confused expression.
DANIEL
Excuse me?
At this point, the male BARTENDER takes notice of the younger DANIEL and moves towards him.
MALE BARTENDER
Hey buddy – could you show some I.D. please? You too, Miss.
DANIEL laughs.
DANIEL
If I wasn’t straight, I’d buy you a drink for that remark.
MALE BARTENDER
Just show me your I.D., kid.
BLONDE fishes through her purse for her ID, and DANIEL opens his wallet, a good-natured grin on his face. They both hand over their driver’s licenses, and the MALE BARTENDER looks at them both. His expression darkens.
MALE BARTENDER
I’m going to have to ask you to leave.
BLONDE pouts.
DANIEL
Okay, now, fun’s over. You’re killing my game, here.
MALE BARTENDER
You’re jeopardizing our liquor license, kid. Take your chick and get out of here.
MALE BARTENDER tosses them their IDs back.
MALE BARTENDER
And if you want a piece of advice, if you’re so bent on getting wasted before turning the big one-eight, have the decency to go out and get a fake ID that’s at least partially believable. Using your dad’s license is just lazy.
DANIEL pockets his ID, stands up, and leans on the counter.
DANIEL
Hey! I’ve got a good ten years on you, at least. I shouldn’t have to put up with this crap. Your partner over there –
DANIEL gestures at the FEMALE BARTENDER, who turns her head and heads in the direction of the commotion.
DANIEL (continuing)
Sold me a rum and coke with no questions asked. A rum and coke, I might add, that I haven’t had yet.
MALE BARTENDER (to FEMALE)
You sell this punk a drink?
FEMALE BARTENDER
Hell no. Never seen him in here before.
BLONDE tugs at DANIEL’s shoulder.
BLONDE
C’mon, Tiger, they caught us. Don’t get us in any more trouble.
DANIEL
I’M not the one who’s in trouble. I’ve come to this bar for months! Just ask my buddy Phil. Phil, Phil? Where are you, Phil?
As DANIEL continues ranting and looking for his companion PHILLIP, MALE BARTENDER gestures to someone behind DANIEL and the BLONDE. Two large hands descend on DANIEL’s shoulders – the hands of the BOUNCER.
DANIEL
Huh?
CUT TO EXT. Nightclub – Night.
DANIEL and BLONDE are unceremoniously tossed out of the Glass Olive.
DANIEL
What the HELL, man?
BLONDE reaches into Daniel’s pocket, withdraws his wallet, and looks at his ID. She starts laughing.
BLONDE (laughing)
Oh man, is that your Dad? He’s not that bad looking.
DANIEL
This is an outrage! (yelling at BOUNCER) I have a constitutional right to get hammered!
BOUNCER responds by waving genially, unfazed. BLONDE, wobbling, latches on to DANIEL’s arm.
BLONDE
Don’t worry about it, Danny – I get kicked out of bars all the time. My stupid brother made my ID – it only works half the time. It’s better than yours though.
DANIEL stops short, and gives BLONDE a closer look.
DANIEL
Please tell me you’re eighteen.
BLONDE shakes her head, grinning.
DANIEL
Seventeen – with only a week to go before you turn eighteen?
BLONDE
Sixteen.
BLONDE lays a finger over her mouth in an exaggerated “quiet” gesture.
BLONDE
Shhhh….Don’t tell.
DANIEL
Oh man….
DANIEL rapidly backs away from the BLONDE. BLONDE persists – approaching him with as much determination as he tries to get away from her.
DANIEL
I could get arrested for this!
BLONDE
Arrested for what? I didn’t even have to time get drunk before we got tossed.
BLONDE makes a dash for DANIEL, DANIEL turns and nearly bumps into a glass window of a shop adjoining the Glass Olive. BLONDE wraps her arms around DANIEL’s neck at the same time he catches a glimpse of his 17-year-old reflection. DANIEL pauses for about five seconds of shock, before wriggling madly out of BLONDE’s grip.
BLONDE
Damn, Danny. What’s your dysfunction?
DANIEL darts forward, snatching his license out of BLONDE’s hands.
DANIEL
I – I – I gotta go. Right now. I have to leave.
DANIEL breaks into a wild sprint towards his car. He jams his key into the lock, gets in, starts the ignition, and peels off with a squeal of tires. BLONDE watches his car depart with a contemptuous look on her face.
BLONDE
What a freak.
END OF CHAPTER ONE.
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
I Want to Be a Screenwriter
A few months back, before Heroes started airing on television, some of my pals from the SuperHeroHype Forums decided to write a virtual season of Heroes, with our own characters and storylines that would compliment the actual season taking place on NBC.
In order to write the season, however, it was decided that we would write our sections in script format. I'd never done that before - my focus has always been on straight-laced fiction in short story or novel format. However, I figured it would be an interesting exercise, and so I tried. I wrote about a character named Danny Tiger, a washed-up '80s heartthrob who discovers his can manipulate his physical age in whichever direction he chooses.
Once I caught on to the format, it was surprising how easy it was. Dialogue has always been of the strongest features of my writing, so the ability to focus on dialogue (with some action and set description), came easily to me. I sent in my first chapter to the organizers of the season and received a very positive review of it.
Needless to say, the project died when we realised that we had no idea how Heroes was actually intending to operate, and since the basic foundation of the show was an enormous mystery we couldn't really solve, the idea was abandoned. I still have my script of Danny Tiger - maybe I'll post it later for you to review.
Recently, one of my friends from my Film Studies class turned me to John August's blog. He's a screenwriter who's written several movies I either adore or wish to see (Big Fish, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Corpse Bride - hey, look at all the Tim Burton work!), who posts very articulate and helpful advice, as well as the nitty-gritty details of screenwriting and getting an agent and all that.
Now, I adore movies and television. I believe I always have. Say what you will about it rotting my brain and ruining my imagination, but watching moving stories on a screen has always captivated my interest for as long as I can remember. I read Entertainment Weekly religiously for news on which movies are coming out, which director's signed on to do what, what comic book is getting adapted.
It basically sounds like the job for me - well-paying (if you're successful), no name- or face- recognition, and I get to help make great movies that I like.
Of course, at one point in time I thought being a teacher, a lawyer, or a librarian would be the best job for me (and I'm still on the fence about the librarian goal).
And, if my perusal of books and blogs on the subject is any indication, if I want to get my writing noticed by Hollywood, I'd have to move to L.A. The city where I live isn't the armpit of Canada - it's more like the right nipple of Canada. It's prominent, but it really doesn't do anything. The idea of living in L.A. is more than a little terrifying for someone who has never not lived with her parents. I mean, besides the fact that film and television insist on portraying L.A. as a hotbed of crime/corruption/sex/drugs/vampires, it doesn't sound like the most friendly place to be.
That's me - a creature of habit. I think of moving to L.A., and my thoughts are "I have no idea how to buy a place to live. I have no idea what L.A. is like. I have no idea how to get around in L.A. I don't know how to get a job in L.A. (although my Library Studies degree might get me to a library there). How do I learn to ride the buses in L.A.? How do I deal with all the gangs in L.A.?" Etc. Etc.
I mean, I don't have to worry about it for the next couple of years or so (at least until I get my BA), but I don't think screenwriting is the kind of job I can be successful at living in the Right Nipple of Canada. We'll just have to see.
In order to write the season, however, it was decided that we would write our sections in script format. I'd never done that before - my focus has always been on straight-laced fiction in short story or novel format. However, I figured it would be an interesting exercise, and so I tried. I wrote about a character named Danny Tiger, a washed-up '80s heartthrob who discovers his can manipulate his physical age in whichever direction he chooses.
Once I caught on to the format, it was surprising how easy it was. Dialogue has always been of the strongest features of my writing, so the ability to focus on dialogue (with some action and set description), came easily to me. I sent in my first chapter to the organizers of the season and received a very positive review of it.
Needless to say, the project died when we realised that we had no idea how Heroes was actually intending to operate, and since the basic foundation of the show was an enormous mystery we couldn't really solve, the idea was abandoned. I still have my script of Danny Tiger - maybe I'll post it later for you to review.
Recently, one of my friends from my Film Studies class turned me to John August's blog. He's a screenwriter who's written several movies I either adore or wish to see (Big Fish, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Corpse Bride - hey, look at all the Tim Burton work!), who posts very articulate and helpful advice, as well as the nitty-gritty details of screenwriting and getting an agent and all that.
Now, I adore movies and television. I believe I always have. Say what you will about it rotting my brain and ruining my imagination, but watching moving stories on a screen has always captivated my interest for as long as I can remember. I read Entertainment Weekly religiously for news on which movies are coming out, which director's signed on to do what, what comic book is getting adapted.
It basically sounds like the job for me - well-paying (if you're successful), no name- or face- recognition, and I get to help make great movies that I like.
Of course, at one point in time I thought being a teacher, a lawyer, or a librarian would be the best job for me (and I'm still on the fence about the librarian goal).
And, if my perusal of books and blogs on the subject is any indication, if I want to get my writing noticed by Hollywood, I'd have to move to L.A. The city where I live isn't the armpit of Canada - it's more like the right nipple of Canada. It's prominent, but it really doesn't do anything. The idea of living in L.A. is more than a little terrifying for someone who has never not lived with her parents. I mean, besides the fact that film and television insist on portraying L.A. as a hotbed of crime/corruption/sex/drugs/vampires, it doesn't sound like the most friendly place to be.
That's me - a creature of habit. I think of moving to L.A., and my thoughts are "I have no idea how to buy a place to live. I have no idea what L.A. is like. I have no idea how to get around in L.A. I don't know how to get a job in L.A. (although my Library Studies degree might get me to a library there). How do I learn to ride the buses in L.A.? How do I deal with all the gangs in L.A.?" Etc. Etc.
I mean, I don't have to worry about it for the next couple of years or so (at least until I get my BA), but I don't think screenwriting is the kind of job I can be successful at living in the Right Nipple of Canada. We'll just have to see.
Monday, October 30, 2006
Sent!
Sorry for the lack of posting - I've been very busy. I had four (!) parties to attend this month, four more than I've accustomed to having on my day planner at any one time, and I've also been writing like mad in order to make my deadlines for my Creative Writing class and for the MacTaggart Award.
Yup, I sent in "House Hunting" for the MacTaggart Writing Award today. I have no idea when I'll find out if I win, but I sincerely hope I win. In a cover letter, I'm supposed to propose a planned expedition I'd like to go on if I won the MacTaggart Award (which is up to $12 000 in travel money), and I really had to stretch my mind to think of place I'd like to travel to.
I'm a fantasy writer. I'm also a creature of habit. I don't like travel, in general. I wouldn't know who to go with, for example. I wouldn't know how to get around. I know English and French and a smidgeon of Japanese and that's it. But I might as well try it out if I have a chance to do it for free and while I'm young enough to get away with it, eh?
I've also been too busy to update - but I did today. I one new piece and am in the process of writing another in time for Thursday("Parasite: A Love Story", and I've begun work on "Red Bird, Red Bird"). As well, I finally got a few assignments for Animthon 14, so I have to work on those, too. I'm going to log off now, I have to go write some more.
Yup, I sent in "House Hunting" for the MacTaggart Writing Award today. I have no idea when I'll find out if I win, but I sincerely hope I win. In a cover letter, I'm supposed to propose a planned expedition I'd like to go on if I won the MacTaggart Award (which is up to $12 000 in travel money), and I really had to stretch my mind to think of place I'd like to travel to.
I'm a fantasy writer. I'm also a creature of habit. I don't like travel, in general. I wouldn't know who to go with, for example. I wouldn't know how to get around. I know English and French and a smidgeon of Japanese and that's it. But I might as well try it out if I have a chance to do it for free and while I'm young enough to get away with it, eh?
I've also been too busy to update - but I did today. I one new piece and am in the process of writing another in time for Thursday("Parasite: A Love Story", and I've begun work on "Red Bird, Red Bird"). As well, I finally got a few assignments for Animthon 14, so I have to work on those, too. I'm going to log off now, I have to go write some more.
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
Sickness
Hello all.
I'm currently undergoing the final stages of recovering from a particularly nasty cold, the kind that radiates pain from sinuses, thus causing my cheekbones and the teeth of my upperjaw to ache as well. The kind of cold that made me forgo attending my film lab to watch a three-hour-long '50s Bollywood movie on Monday, so now I have to take the film out of Reserve and find the time to watch it at home. Argh.
I have considerably less time on my hands. My classes are all very detail-oriented, so there isn't a lot of class-time that I can afford to spend writing my novel or cruising the Internet. My part-time job usually eats up my hours until 5pm, so that means most of my work has to be done at night. Which means that recently I have been getting very little done, because I am tired.
The last two years I've made a habit of working in the afternoon and leaving my nights free for television watching and goofing off, so my mind is not yet accustomed to having to work after supper. I tried reading an essay in bed last night, and I ended up falling asleep - at eight o'clock at night!
And I'm STILL thinking of Zathura - it's one of those movies that is so good that you feel sad once the movie's over, the same way one feels when one wakes up on Boxing Day to discover that Christmas has come and gone. I felt the same way about Spider-Man and Unbreakable. I don't want to bore myself with it, so I'll have to make myself wait at least four months before I watch it again.
I'm currently undergoing the final stages of recovering from a particularly nasty cold, the kind that radiates pain from sinuses, thus causing my cheekbones and the teeth of my upperjaw to ache as well. The kind of cold that made me forgo attending my film lab to watch a three-hour-long '50s Bollywood movie on Monday, so now I have to take the film out of Reserve and find the time to watch it at home. Argh.
I have considerably less time on my hands. My classes are all very detail-oriented, so there isn't a lot of class-time that I can afford to spend writing my novel or cruising the Internet. My part-time job usually eats up my hours until 5pm, so that means most of my work has to be done at night. Which means that recently I have been getting very little done, because I am tired.
The last two years I've made a habit of working in the afternoon and leaving my nights free for television watching and goofing off, so my mind is not yet accustomed to having to work after supper. I tried reading an essay in bed last night, and I ended up falling asleep - at eight o'clock at night!
And I'm STILL thinking of Zathura - it's one of those movies that is so good that you feel sad once the movie's over, the same way one feels when one wakes up on Boxing Day to discover that Christmas has come and gone. I felt the same way about Spider-Man and Unbreakable. I don't want to bore myself with it, so I'll have to make myself wait at least four months before I watch it again.
Monday, September 25, 2006
Jumanji vs Zathura
Both movies are about magical boardgames that pull the players into a world of danger and adventure. I enjoyed both movies. However, which movie has the leg up? Read on for my point-by-point take. BEWARE - MAJOR MOVIE SPOILERS AHEAD, so you've been warned.
The Setting - and its Dangers
Jumanji: The jungle, which means stampedes, monsoons, poisonous flowers and hungry foliage.
Zathura: Outerspace - with blackholes, gravity fields, meteors, and cryogenic chambers.
Advantage: Jumanji, at least in the case of realism. The Zathura boys have it easy - that film decidedly leaves science by the wayside, as the kids are still permitted electricity, heat, and water, and the whole concept of the airless vacuum of space is pointedly ignored. However, sometimes the dangers of Jumanji become too extreme for the movie to be truly enjoyed, whereas the safe incontinuity of Zathura allows time for more wonder at the glorious surroundings.
The Special Effects
Jumanji: Mainly CGI, used for stampeding animals, grasping vines, splitting houses, lions, and monkeys.
Zathura: Some CGI (for backgrounds and spaceships), more physical explosions, puppetry, and costuming (for some of the robot, the Zorgons, the damage to the house).
Advantage: Zathura. Jumanji relied too much on CGI when CGI was still a newer technology, and as such, lots of the effects are very weird-looking and awkward (particularly the monkeys and the lion). By keeping most of the effects old-school, Zathura's look remained consistent, magical, and realistic.
The Strong-Willed Older Sibling
Jumanji: Judy Shepherd (Kirsten Dunst)
Zathura: Walter Budwing (Josh Hutcherson)
Advantage: Walter. For one thing, he's a main character who directly manipulates the course of events, emerging from the experience as a different person. In Jumanji, Alan Parrish (Robin Williams) is the centre of attention, so Judy and her brother Peter are really only along for the ride, and end up forgetting the experience anyway (more on that to be revealed).
The Weak-Willed, Cheating Younger Sibling
Jumanji: Peter Shepherd (Bradley Pierce)
Zathura: Danny Budwing (Jonah Bobo)
Advantage: Tie - Peter's more mature, and Danny has more of a stake in the game, but they're both surprisingly similar, not only because both summon disastrous consequences when they attempt to cheat at their respective games (Peter turns into a monkey as punishment, and Danny's brother Walter gets blamed for Danny's misstep and ends up ejected into space). On an interesting note - both characters end up being the ones who release the Trapped-In-The-Game Adults.
The Trapped-In-The-Game Adult
Jumanji: Alan Parrish (Robin Williams) - trapped in the jungle at age nine for 26 years after he lands on a spot that sucks him into the game until someone rolls a five or an eight. Released when Peter rolls a five.
Zathura: The Astronaut (Dax Shepard) - trapped in space at age ten for fifteen years, when he recklessly wishes his brother out of existence. Without his brother to complete his turn, the Astronaut was unable to continue the game to its conclusion. Summoned when Danny spins the "Rescue Stranded Astronaut" card.
Advantage: The Astronaut - for one thing, he's sexier. For another, he's more entertaining as the unwilling referee between the two squabbling brothers than Alan, who emerges from the game as a loin-cloth wearing, bearded adult to discover his family is dead and his house abandoned. I bought Shepard's wiseass approach more than William's child-trapped-in-a-man's-body portrayal.
The Unwittingly-Dragged-Into-The-Game Authority Figure
Jumanji: Sarah Whittle - started the game as a girl with Alan Parrish, fled when Alan was sucked into the game, and spent the next 26 years convincing herself the entire incident was a psychotic breakdown until Alan and co. remind her that her turn is needed to continue the game to its conclusion.
Zathura: Lisa Budwing - the boys' older sister who is recruited to babysit them, at least until she winds up cryogenically frozen. Not an actual player.
Advantage: Sarah. For one thing, she doesn't spend three-quarters of the movie as an amusing inanimate prop, only to wake up screaming and out of touch, and for another, she lends a needed adult perspective to the adventure that Alan's wounded-man-boy cannot provide.
The Concluding Time-Warp
Jumanji: Upon completing the game, Alan and and Sarah find themselves nine-years-old again in 1969, when they first started the game. Judy and Peter don't exist yet, and don't remember them when they meet again in the future.
Zathura: At the end of the movie, the Astronaut is revealed to be an adult version of Walter, who came back in time through a black hole in order to prevent his younger self from being trapped in the game by wishing Danny had never been born.
Advantage: Jumanji. Simple, fast, and easy, the time-warp ending concludes in a manner where everyone wins. Alan makes up with his dad, Sarah's not labeled as psychotic, and the two manage to keep Judy and Peter from being orphaned! Sure, Zathura's twist was cool - but it takes a good long while for the ending to make sense, more time than the movie can afford.
The Family Theme
Jumanji: Father-and-Son Relationships - Alan feuds with his father when his dad suggests sending him to boarding school, but regrets his callousness after he is released to find out his father died before he could apologize. Finds himself becoming a father-figure to Judy and Peter.
Zathura: Brother Relationships - Walter and Danny find themselves competing for their divorced dad's attention, with Walter being increasingly hostile towards Danny's presence. Throughout the game, they must tighten their bond in order to survive.
Advantage: Tie. Alan's relationship with his father is more psychological, and is visually demonstrated by the character of Hunter Van Pelt, a sadistic gun-toting maniac who hunts Alan throughout the film, and presumably while Alan was living in the jungle, as well. The Hunter and Alan's father are played by the same actor (Jonathan Hyde), and spout the same diatribes about "acting like a man", which brings into question whether the world of Jumanji is created by the game, or its players.
The relationship between Walter and Danny is demonstrated by the contrasting metaphor of the Astronaut, who provides the image of a grim future of a Walter without a Danny to help him finish the game. The Astronaut is a living testament to brotherly hatred taken too far, and is only redeemed when young Walter wishes back the alternate-timeline Danny that the Astronaut carelessly wished away. Alternate- and Present-Danny merge into one, as do Older and Younger Walter, and the timeline is restored.
Winner: A tie. Jumanji may seem a little dated now, especially in the special effects department, but the story is sound, although the violence of scenes seems to aim the movie at an older audience. Zathura is still bright and new and shiny-looking, but is appealing to all ages and could very well become a children's classic.
The Setting - and its Dangers
Jumanji: The jungle, which means stampedes, monsoons, poisonous flowers and hungry foliage.
Zathura: Outerspace - with blackholes, gravity fields, meteors, and cryogenic chambers.
Advantage: Jumanji, at least in the case of realism. The Zathura boys have it easy - that film decidedly leaves science by the wayside, as the kids are still permitted electricity, heat, and water, and the whole concept of the airless vacuum of space is pointedly ignored. However, sometimes the dangers of Jumanji become too extreme for the movie to be truly enjoyed, whereas the safe incontinuity of Zathura allows time for more wonder at the glorious surroundings.
The Special Effects
Jumanji: Mainly CGI, used for stampeding animals, grasping vines, splitting houses, lions, and monkeys.
Zathura: Some CGI (for backgrounds and spaceships), more physical explosions, puppetry, and costuming (for some of the robot, the Zorgons, the damage to the house).
Advantage: Zathura. Jumanji relied too much on CGI when CGI was still a newer technology, and as such, lots of the effects are very weird-looking and awkward (particularly the monkeys and the lion). By keeping most of the effects old-school, Zathura's look remained consistent, magical, and realistic.
The Strong-Willed Older Sibling
Jumanji: Judy Shepherd (Kirsten Dunst)
Zathura: Walter Budwing (Josh Hutcherson)
Advantage: Walter. For one thing, he's a main character who directly manipulates the course of events, emerging from the experience as a different person. In Jumanji, Alan Parrish (Robin Williams) is the centre of attention, so Judy and her brother Peter are really only along for the ride, and end up forgetting the experience anyway (more on that to be revealed).
The Weak-Willed, Cheating Younger Sibling
Jumanji: Peter Shepherd (Bradley Pierce)
Zathura: Danny Budwing (Jonah Bobo)
Advantage: Tie - Peter's more mature, and Danny has more of a stake in the game, but they're both surprisingly similar, not only because both summon disastrous consequences when they attempt to cheat at their respective games (Peter turns into a monkey as punishment, and Danny's brother Walter gets blamed for Danny's misstep and ends up ejected into space). On an interesting note - both characters end up being the ones who release the Trapped-In-The-Game Adults.
The Trapped-In-The-Game Adult
Jumanji: Alan Parrish (Robin Williams) - trapped in the jungle at age nine for 26 years after he lands on a spot that sucks him into the game until someone rolls a five or an eight. Released when Peter rolls a five.
Zathura: The Astronaut (Dax Shepard) - trapped in space at age ten for fifteen years, when he recklessly wishes his brother out of existence. Without his brother to complete his turn, the Astronaut was unable to continue the game to its conclusion. Summoned when Danny spins the "Rescue Stranded Astronaut" card.
Advantage: The Astronaut - for one thing, he's sexier. For another, he's more entertaining as the unwilling referee between the two squabbling brothers than Alan, who emerges from the game as a loin-cloth wearing, bearded adult to discover his family is dead and his house abandoned. I bought Shepard's wiseass approach more than William's child-trapped-in-a-man's-body portrayal.
The Unwittingly-Dragged-Into-The-Game Authority Figure
Jumanji: Sarah Whittle - started the game as a girl with Alan Parrish, fled when Alan was sucked into the game, and spent the next 26 years convincing herself the entire incident was a psychotic breakdown until Alan and co. remind her that her turn is needed to continue the game to its conclusion.
Zathura: Lisa Budwing - the boys' older sister who is recruited to babysit them, at least until she winds up cryogenically frozen. Not an actual player.
Advantage: Sarah. For one thing, she doesn't spend three-quarters of the movie as an amusing inanimate prop, only to wake up screaming and out of touch, and for another, she lends a needed adult perspective to the adventure that Alan's wounded-man-boy cannot provide.
The Concluding Time-Warp
Jumanji: Upon completing the game, Alan and and Sarah find themselves nine-years-old again in 1969, when they first started the game. Judy and Peter don't exist yet, and don't remember them when they meet again in the future.
Zathura: At the end of the movie, the Astronaut is revealed to be an adult version of Walter, who came back in time through a black hole in order to prevent his younger self from being trapped in the game by wishing Danny had never been born.
Advantage: Jumanji. Simple, fast, and easy, the time-warp ending concludes in a manner where everyone wins. Alan makes up with his dad, Sarah's not labeled as psychotic, and the two manage to keep Judy and Peter from being orphaned! Sure, Zathura's twist was cool - but it takes a good long while for the ending to make sense, more time than the movie can afford.
The Family Theme
Jumanji: Father-and-Son Relationships - Alan feuds with his father when his dad suggests sending him to boarding school, but regrets his callousness after he is released to find out his father died before he could apologize. Finds himself becoming a father-figure to Judy and Peter.
Zathura: Brother Relationships - Walter and Danny find themselves competing for their divorced dad's attention, with Walter being increasingly hostile towards Danny's presence. Throughout the game, they must tighten their bond in order to survive.
Advantage: Tie. Alan's relationship with his father is more psychological, and is visually demonstrated by the character of Hunter Van Pelt, a sadistic gun-toting maniac who hunts Alan throughout the film, and presumably while Alan was living in the jungle, as well. The Hunter and Alan's father are played by the same actor (Jonathan Hyde), and spout the same diatribes about "acting like a man", which brings into question whether the world of Jumanji is created by the game, or its players.
The relationship between Walter and Danny is demonstrated by the contrasting metaphor of the Astronaut, who provides the image of a grim future of a Walter without a Danny to help him finish the game. The Astronaut is a living testament to brotherly hatred taken too far, and is only redeemed when young Walter wishes back the alternate-timeline Danny that the Astronaut carelessly wished away. Alternate- and Present-Danny merge into one, as do Older and Younger Walter, and the timeline is restored.
Winner: A tie. Jumanji may seem a little dated now, especially in the special effects department, but the story is sound, although the violence of scenes seems to aim the movie at an older audience. Zathura is still bright and new and shiny-looking, but is appealing to all ages and could very well become a children's classic.
Sunday, September 24, 2006
Back Again
Sorry again for the gap between posts. Things have been going great lately. First off, I've finished my entire semester's reading (novel-wise), so I'm back to reading the series that I've claimed is my favourite even though I've only read it once - that is, Tad Williams' Memory, Sorrow, and Thorn quartet. It's a little hard to get back into the groove of his extremely crowded prose, but all in all, I'm still enjoying it.
I actually got to interview Camilla Gibb, the author of Sweetness in the Belly, the book I mentioned before. She was very nice to talk to, and not at all intimidating or condescending.
Now, other things, other things...Oh, yeah - I've developed a certain interest in Dax Shepard, co-star of Punk'd. I've just rented Zathura, a movie which I adored, so now I guess I'm obligated to watch Employee of the Month and Let's Go To Prison. Can't wait!
I actually got to interview Camilla Gibb, the author of Sweetness in the Belly, the book I mentioned before. She was very nice to talk to, and not at all intimidating or condescending.
Now, other things, other things...Oh, yeah - I've developed a certain interest in Dax Shepard, co-star of Punk'd. I've just rented Zathura, a movie which I adored, so now I guess I'm obligated to watch Employee of the Month and Let's Go To Prison. Can't wait!
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
Ah! Books!
Sorry if it seems like I've been devouring books two at a time - the novels assigned to my "Overview of Children's Literature" class are bite-sized treasures to be read in a day. Not only did I finish I was a Child of Holocaust Survivors, by Bernice Eisenstein, but also the creepy Coraline by Neil Gaiman (which I'm pretty sure is pronounced "COH-RAH-LINE", intead of "COH-RAN-LEEN", because it would explain why everyone keeps calling her "Caroline" by accident), and Uncle Ronald, a story of a boy and his mum fleeing an abusive father to the benevolent relative of the title, by Brian Doyle.
Now I'm back onto my Contemporary Canadian Lit books, with What We All Long For. I usually read the children's books two at a time, because they're so slender and quick to read, then jump into a meatier adult Canadian novel. I haven't read too much of my Popular Culture books (other than the Eisenstein), as they're all graphic novels regarding the Holocaust and two out of the three books are wrapped, so they'd be impossible to return if they turned out to be removed from the list.
Also, I've been butchering "Magic Doesn't Grow on Trees". The original first draft ballooned to sixty-one pages of single-spaced prose, hardly a short story, and my attempts to simply transcribe it into the second draft while cutting the fat haven't been working. I'm fond of starting at a certain point that sets up the the story, but apparently that's not the sort of thing that attracts readers nowadays. Now, they want to start with some action, or some immediate contact, and have the information about the setting, story, etc. filter through in the way the author tells the story.
That's fine with me, it just means that when I make a second draft, I end up chopping off the first couple of pages, because they helped me to discover the story, but the readers aren't going to want to deal with them. So I've strongly reworked "Magic Doesn't Grow on Trees" - the crazy guy's turned into a obsessively orderly jerk, the magician-looney-bin has been converted into a fully-functioning (but boring) office, and Ravine is slightly more competant at her job, only now she's making mistakes on purpose to piss the crazy- er, I mean the jerky guy off because it's the only way he can let loose. ^_^
I think it has very little connection with the original story, except for the central idea of magic. And that's not such a bad thing. I can only hope I can keep it down to a seemly story length, I tend to be wordy at times and I need to learn how to restrain my writing.
My new story, "House Hunting", is going well. Things usually do when I write a new story on a fresh idea, as opposed to an idea I've abandoned or an idea I've written down on a list to use later when I'm in a dry spell. This is the story that I'm going to use to try and win the McTaggart scholarship at my University. It's basically a short-story contest where the winner gets $12 000 in travel money. Europe, baby! Scotland, Italy, Ireland....and maybe Japan. But only if I win.
Now I'm back onto my Contemporary Canadian Lit books, with What We All Long For. I usually read the children's books two at a time, because they're so slender and quick to read, then jump into a meatier adult Canadian novel. I haven't read too much of my Popular Culture books (other than the Eisenstein), as they're all graphic novels regarding the Holocaust and two out of the three books are wrapped, so they'd be impossible to return if they turned out to be removed from the list.
Also, I've been butchering "Magic Doesn't Grow on Trees". The original first draft ballooned to sixty-one pages of single-spaced prose, hardly a short story, and my attempts to simply transcribe it into the second draft while cutting the fat haven't been working. I'm fond of starting at a certain point that sets up the the story, but apparently that's not the sort of thing that attracts readers nowadays. Now, they want to start with some action, or some immediate contact, and have the information about the setting, story, etc. filter through in the way the author tells the story.
That's fine with me, it just means that when I make a second draft, I end up chopping off the first couple of pages, because they helped me to discover the story, but the readers aren't going to want to deal with them. So I've strongly reworked "Magic Doesn't Grow on Trees" - the crazy guy's turned into a obsessively orderly jerk, the magician-looney-bin has been converted into a fully-functioning (but boring) office, and Ravine is slightly more competant at her job, only now she's making mistakes on purpose to piss the crazy- er, I mean the jerky guy off because it's the only way he can let loose. ^_^
I think it has very little connection with the original story, except for the central idea of magic. And that's not such a bad thing. I can only hope I can keep it down to a seemly story length, I tend to be wordy at times and I need to learn how to restrain my writing.
My new story, "House Hunting", is going well. Things usually do when I write a new story on a fresh idea, as opposed to an idea I've abandoned or an idea I've written down on a list to use later when I'm in a dry spell. This is the story that I'm going to use to try and win the McTaggart scholarship at my University. It's basically a short-story contest where the winner gets $12 000 in travel money. Europe, baby! Scotland, Italy, Ireland....and maybe Japan. But only if I win.
Sunday, September 03, 2006
A Busy Year To Come
Sorry that I haven't updated, I've been a little overwhelmed by the incredibly busy (at least for me) year that I have ahead.
1. I'm rejoined the UAMC (and I'm hoping to go on Tour next year).
2. I'm renewing my loyalty to The Gateway (I was lazy last year, and ended up not earning a bound edition of all last year's issues because I fell below the 15-articles-a-year marker. I know, it sounds lazy, but CD reviews only count for half an article, and the editor for last year was very lax when putting in CD reviews, so only about half the CD reviews sent in were actually published.
3. I've got a part-time job as a receptionist/computer guru.
4. I've volunteered to be Staff Writer for the upcoming Animethon 14. I didn't actually go to Animethon 13 last year, but I still like anime, and it'll look good on my resume and I'll probably make a lot of friends along the way.
5. Also, this is the year where my GPA counts towards whether or not I'm accepted into the School of Library and Information Studies.
So, lots of stuff to do, lots of reading and writing, and already my lazy mind thinks all of this will be impossible to perform. But laziness is definitely not a virtue, so I guess the only way to pry that bad habit from my life is to fill it up with rewarding things to do.
1. I'm rejoined the UAMC (and I'm hoping to go on Tour next year).
2. I'm renewing my loyalty to The Gateway (I was lazy last year, and ended up not earning a bound edition of all last year's issues because I fell below the 15-articles-a-year marker. I know, it sounds lazy, but CD reviews only count for half an article, and the editor for last year was very lax when putting in CD reviews, so only about half the CD reviews sent in were actually published.
3. I've got a part-time job as a receptionist/computer guru.
4. I've volunteered to be Staff Writer for the upcoming Animethon 14. I didn't actually go to Animethon 13 last year, but I still like anime, and it'll look good on my resume and I'll probably make a lot of friends along the way.
5. Also, this is the year where my GPA counts towards whether or not I'm accepted into the School of Library and Information Studies.
So, lots of stuff to do, lots of reading and writing, and already my lazy mind thinks all of this will be impossible to perform. But laziness is definitely not a virtue, so I guess the only way to pry that bad habit from my life is to fill it up with rewarding things to do.
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