Matthew Dicks's Blog, page 456

Britain legalizes gay marriage thanks to the approval of their unelected, genetically appointed head of state.

It’s remarkably progressive and exciting that Britain has legalized gay marriage. 

I love news that angers bigots.

However, it’s remarkably arcane, incredibly regressive and rather depressing that a unelected, genetically determined, lifetime appointed queen needed to sign off on this legislation in order to make it law.

Why I love storytelling, and why I especially love The Moth

Ever since I told my first story live back in July of 2011 at the Nuyorican Poet’s Café in New York City, I’ve fallen in love with storytelling. On Thursday night I was fortunate enough to win another Moth StorySLAM, my second in a row and sixth overall.

Here’s what I love about live storytelling so much:

Back in April of this year, I completed my fourth novel. I also wrote my first short story in more than a decade.

My novel is scheduled for publication in the fall of 2014. A handful of people have read the first draft, and I expect to hear from my editor soon about revisions (though I’m sure it’s already absolutely perfect). But the vast majority of readers will have to wait more than a year to read the book. 

I submitted the short story to a literary magazine. I should receive a response in September. I have no idea when it would be published if accepted.

That’s a minimum of a 17 month wait for the novel and a 5 month wait on the short story.

On Monday I wrote a story about the time a girlfriend and I went to the Virginia State Fair to see a two-headed cow.

I revised the story on Tuesday and Wednesday and then told the story to Elysha on the drive to New York on Thursday. She assisted with further revisions, making suggestions for sections to cut and assisting me with word choice to maximize humor.

About an hour before the StorySLAM, I walked about 40 blocks over to Housing Works from my sister-in-law’s apartment in midtown, speaking and revising the story along the way. I actually removed a large chunk of the story during my walk after realizing that I wasn’t going to be able to keep the story under six minutes. I texted Elysha to see if she approved of the change, and she did. 

About two hours later, I took the stage and told my story.

When I was finished, the audience’s reaction instantly told me how I had performed. I didn’t know if I would win the competition, but I knew that my hard work had paid off. The volume of their applause and cheers instantly told me that I had done well.

The judges confirmed the audience’s opinion by awarding me with high scores, and I was fortunate to maintain my lead throughout the night.

Immediate feedback. That’s what I love about storytelling. I prepare a story over a period of a week or so and then receive immediate feedback about my performance in the form of audience response, and in the case of The Moth, numerical scores.

Having grown up playing a lot of videogames, I’m the kind of person who wants to know how I’m doing at all times. I want to know my score, my opponent’s score, the all-time highest score and everything in between.

Storytelling, and especially competitive storytelling, affords me that opportunity. When I have finished telling a story onstage, I know exactly where I stand. 

It’s the lack of immediate feedback that makes novels and short stories so challenging. Even when my next novel publishes in the fall, the response from readers will trickle in over the course of a year or more.

Granted the novel allows me to reach more readers, and in the case of my last book, in more than 20 countries around the world. but the waiting is hard. Many authors will tell you that it’s one of the hardest part of writing.

When I have a story to tell, fiction or nonfiction, I don’t want to wait to share it with my readers. I want to tell it now. Have it heard now. Receive feedback now.

Storytelling fulfills this need while I wait for my other stories to wind their way through the agonizingly slow cogs of the publishing world.

Man wrestles shark. I’m not impressed.

When I first saw the headline, I couldn’t help but click on the link.

Man wrestles shark?

Hell yes.

But then I watched the video. “Wrestling” implies that the shark participates in the conflict in some meaningful way. It suggests that the shark might  momentarily threaten the safety of its opponent in some way.

What I watched was does not constitute wrestling.

The man grabs an animal that has no arms and no legs and can’t breathe and drags it around by the tail for a couple minutes.

This amounts to little more than dragging around a helpless fish.

 

Ironic at last.

I never had quite the problem that all the pedantic nimrods had with this song, but I still found this extremely amusing.

I can’t believe that it took someone this long to do this.

To hell with the hedgehog.

One of my closest friends argues that I have a tendency to spread myself too thin. He thinks that I would realize greater success in my professional life if I focused on only one thing instead of attempting to do so many different things at the same time.

Some would call this a hedgehog and fox debate, an idea first introduced by the ancient Greek poet Archilochus, who said that the fox knows many things about a little, but the hedgehog knows one big thing.

A different friend sent me this quote, which aptly summarizes my position on the fox and hedgehog debate:

“A human being should be able to change a diaper, plan an invasion, butcher a hog, conn a ship, design a building, write a sonnet, balance accounts, build a wall, set a bone, comfort the dying, take orders, give orders, cooperate, act alone, solve equations, analyze a new problem, pitch manure, program a computer, cook a tasty meal, fight efficiently, die gallantly. Specialization is for insects.” – science fiction writer Robert Heinlein

Yeah. That.

Oh, and in terms of Heinlein’s list, I can:

change a diaper (unfortunately)
plan an invasion (thanks to videogames and capture-the-flag)
conn a ship (sailboat, canoe and rowboat)
write a sonnet (none of them are very good, but still)
balance accounts
build a wall (stone)
comfort the dying (as long as it isn’t me)
take and give orders (I’m better at both than you might expect)
cooperate, and act alone (though I prefer to act alone most of the time)
solve equations (thanks to college algebra)
analyze a problem (though it’s often greeted with great disdain)
pitch manure (spent my childhood doing this)
program a computer
cook a tasty meal (breakfast)
fight efficiently (never lost a fight)

I still can’t butcher a hog (nor do I want to), design a building (shouldn’t we leave this to experts?) or set a bone (though I’ve temporarily splinted more than one).

I’ve died twice already, but I don’t think I’ve done it gallantly either time.

Charlie’s words

Don’t like that woman’s skirt? Think that man looks ridiculous in shorts? Say something.

It’s fine. Truly.

The person whose clothing you are criticizing probably assembled that particular ensemble because they liked the way they looked while wearing it. There’s a good chance that they feel good about themselves in that outfit. 

But it ’s fine. Insult them. Demean them. Laugh behind their back. Comment about their appearance and style on social media like the coward that you are.

What does it matter if they feel good about the way they look? Who cares if they feel confident or are seeking to evoke a style all their own? It’s your opinion that matters. It’s your idealized sense of style that we should all be striving to achieve.  

And heaven forbid they don’t care that much about clothing and are opting for comfort over style. How dare they not embrace your aesthetic. In that case, go right ahead and belittle these choices as well. After all, you surely know better than them.  

Just please understand that if you comment negatively on another person’s choice of clothing, you should:

Be ashamed of yourself.
Be aware that for whatever reason, you have failed to evolve beyond the mentality and decorum of an average high school bully.
Be apprised that you are likely suffering from a negative self image.
Be mindful that your comments are revealing you to be a petty, small and mean spirited jerk-face to the rest of the world.

But it’s fine. Truly. Make your comments.

So many other small, meaningless, disgusting people do it everyday.

We’ve learned to live with your kind. We haven’t managed to rid ourselves of cockroaches yet, so it’s unlikely that we’ll be getting rid of your kind anytime soon as well. 

Inside Jaws: A Filmuentary

It took me a week to watch this, but only because it’s the full length movie and then some (deleted scenes, and I’m quite busy.

But if you liked the movie Jaws or you’re interested in how films are made, this is absolutely for you.

Inside Jaws, A Filmumentary by @jamieswb (2013) from Jamie Benning on Vimeo.

Bookish days of yore

I noticed this on my key ring today. It’s like a historical artifact. A reminder of a bygone day.

Throw it away? Leave it as a reminder of a time since passed? Sell it on eBay?

We finished our anniversary in the negative

Yesterday was our seventh wedding anniversary.

I couldn’t imagine a better day.

Best of all, we ended the day in the negative.

My anniversary officially kicked off the night before when I arrived home around 11:00 PM from a wedding and discovered that my lawn had been mowed while I was working at a wedding. I had lamented my bad timing on Facebook earlier that day after noticing that I would probably be spending a portion of my anniversary mowing the lawn, so my friend, Tom (who owns a landscaping business), came over around 9:00 PM and cut it for me.

I have made Tom the villain in the golfing memoir that I;’m in the midst of writing. He’s the villain for good reason, but it’s moments like this that make it difficult for me to be mean to him.

He actually helped to save my marriage immediately following our wedding.

Off the golf course, you won’t meet a better guy.

On the golf course, he is a villain of the greatest order. At least that’s what I want my readers to believe. 

On the morning of our anniversary, my wife and I exchanged gifts, although we had nothing to actually hand to each other.

My wife informed me that she was taking me horseback riding for our anniversary. I couldn’t have been more thrilled. I grew up on a horse farm until my parents divorced when I was about nine years old, and so I spent the majority of my early years on the back of a horse.

Since the divorce, however, I had never had a chance to ride again. It’s one of my deepest regrets from my childhood. Climbing on the back of a horse flooded me with memories of my youth. We had a great time riding through the forests and fields behind the farm where she had brought me, and it made me want to start riding again.

  

I couldn’t imagine a better way to spend the afternoon.

My gift to Elysha was cooking lessons at Sur La Table. I’ve arranged for her to take one class with her mother and another with a close friend later in the month. She was equally excited. 

One of my favorite moments from the entire day was when Elysha said, “We both managed to find gifts that didn’t bring any more stuff into our house.”

I loved that.

I recently noted that there are only three types of gift that I want to receive in the future:

The gift of time
The gift of cash
The gift of experience, including learning something new that I can’t currently do

I later added the gift of spiteful yet meaningful charity to the list as well, but this is a gift better suited for a particular breed of human being.

My gifting criteria seeks to eliminate the gift of things in favor of a means of living a more meaningful and full life. I don’t want any more stuff. Instead, I want to be able to do more stuff.

Of course, there are exceptions to this rule.

Elysha gave me a signed first edition of a Kurt Vonnegut novel years ago that I cherish to this day.

Her Christmas-time stocking stuffers are always amazing.

The occasional clothing item, golfing gizmo or new fangled electronic, especially when it is truly needed, is always appreciated.

But as a general rule, I would prefer that items be removed from my home in a gifting situation rather than added to it. 

Our gifts to each other, as well as Tom’s gift to me, matched my criteria perfectly.

And the day wasn’t over.

Elysha and I went to dinner that evening and were surprised to learn at the end of the evening that her parents had called the restaurant and picked up the check.

It was a wonderful surprise.

Our final anniversary gift was given to us by our babysitter and friend, Allison, who refused payment (after much protestation on our part) for her babysitting duties. 

It was an ideal anniversary. I spent it in the company of my beautiful wife, and at the end of the day, we had added nothing to our home in terms of stuff.

Actually, the garbage and recycling were picked up yesterday. We actually subtracted a considerable amount from the home yesterday.

We ended the day in the red. I couldn’t be happier.