Matthew Dicks's Blog, page 479

Competitive, creative to-do listing: Which do you think is best?

I used to think that this to-do list was the best ever. In response to its greatness, I produced a series of my own creative to-do lists.

The first one was good.

The second was even better.

Frankly, I thought both were spectacular.

No one seemed to agree, and the idea fizzled. Or maybe I just forgot to keep making lists.

I forget.

Maybe I’ll start making lists again. It was fun, but when you’re the only one having fun, it often ceases to be fun.

Either way, this list is possibly better than the first. It has some ridiculous items, but the more realistic items are fantastic.

#6 is my favorite. I will do this. Soon.

Mommy and Charlie clapping

It’s the simple things, like watching my son and wife clapping, that I will try to hold onto in my mind as long as I can.

Aimee Mann’s theory on creativity matches my own perfectly.

On a recent podcast, musician Aimee Mann said, “Being stuck in one place and bored out of your mind is the key to creativity.”

I couldn’t agree more.

My writing career only began because I was bored out of my mind as well.

It was February of 2005. My wife and I were spending a week in Boca Raton, Florida with her then 87 year-old grandmother. Much of our trip consisted of breakfast and lunch at the club and dinner at a restaurant somewhere in town.

Halfway through the trip, Nana left us for the evening. She had a date with a man named Joe and an opera class at the local college, which left us home alone and without a car. After days without Internet access or cable television service and nothing left to read, I found myself in a desperate search for something to keep me busy.

The previous November, my then-fiancée and I were having dinner with our close friends, Charles and Justine. During the course of the meal, Justine mentioned that she had lost an earring earlier that day and was hoping to find it when they returned home. I asked Justine how she knew that the earring had been misplaced. “Perhaps some clever thief came to your house and stole just one earring, so that you wouldn’t suspect theft.”

The idea of a thief who only steals items that go unnoticed lodged itself in my mind, and when I arrived home later that night, I jotted down the idea on my ever-growing list of possible story ideas.

The idea was still stuck in my mind while pacing around Nana’s home three months later, but I had no story. Just the idea for a character. Nevertheless, boredom defeated my belief that I had to outline any story that I was going to write, so with nothing but an idea for a character, I started writing.

I wasn’t sure if it would be a short story or something longer, but by the time the trip was done, the first three chapters of the novel were complete and I was well on my way.

When I began the book, I had no idea where the story might take me,. I simply began connecting sentences together and waited to see what might happen. This is a method of writing that no one had told me about during my time at college. Despite attaining a degree in English with a creative writing concentration, my professors had always taught me to outline before writing. Create character sketches. Research. Plan. 

I’ve since learned to embrace the unknown and allow the story to come to me. Stephen King calls this “unearthing the fossil,” though I wouldn’t hear this expression until the book was nearly finished. I’ve also learned that about half of all fiction writers write this way.

Ten years go, this would have sounded like nonsense to me, but now I believe it with all my heart. There were many moments in the writing of SOMETHING MISSING when I literally did not know what would happen next until I wrote it, and the same has held true for my subsequent novels.

In fact, as I writing the final chapters of SOMETHING MISSING, I still didn’t know what my main character’s ultimate fate would be. I was writing the section of a chapter in which much of the plot would be resolved when my wife called.

“I can’t talk. I’m about to find out what happens to Martin.”

“Really,” she said. “What happens?”

“I don’t know! I’m still writing it!”

If you are reading this chapter someday, remember that I experienced it just like a reader would: One word at a time.

Though many authors know exactly where their stories will ultimately go, I do not, and I’ve learned to trust this instinct. I start with character. I find a person who interests me, and then, in a vomit-provoking, disgustingly spiritual, earthy-crunchy way, I assume that the plot is already written in the character’s fate.

Once I’ve found the character, his or her fate is sealed. I just have to unearth it.

But it’s true. I’d been trying to start a novel for more than five years before beginning SOMETHING MISSING, but each time, I thought that I needed to plan the story from beginning to end before starting to write. While many writers work this way, I have found that I am better off beginning with a glimmer of an idea and discovering the rest along the way. I leave the story to fate, and things have seemed to work out so far.

I like to tell this story because I worry that too many writers sit around, waiting for their one great idea to emerge, when that idea might already exist, waiting to be unearthed.

So if you’re waiting for the next great novel idea to reveal itself to you, why not pick up a pen and starting writing while you wait?

As for my, I’m eternally grateful that even at the age of 87, Nana was still driving, dating and taking classes. Like Aimee Mann, I needed to be stuck in one place and bored out of my mind for my creative process to finally reveal itself to me. Nana unwittingly provided me with just that when she left me at home that night. 

She’s 92 today and little has changed. On Sunday night she was sitting in the audience at The Moth’s GrandSLAM, chatting with hipsters from Brooklyn while waiting to hear me tell my story.

I have friends in their thirties who tell me that they can’t stay up that late.

Multitasking gone bad

I play tag with my daughter almost every night. It’s her favorite game.

And other than the fact that she still believes that the person who is “It” is the one who is being chased, she’s quite good at the game. She doesn’t quit, even when I’ve forced her to chase me around the house a dozen times or more.

The girl has stamina.

Since tag has been such an enormous part of our life, I had hoped to capture some of these moments on film for posterity, but it turns out that playing tag and recording videos should not be done simultaneously, as you will see:

The Matthew Dicks Pre-Obituary Contest (including fabulous prizes for the winner)

Slate recently named the obituary of Harry Weathersby Stamps as their current leader for obituary of the year. Excerpts from this incredible obituary (though you really should read the obituary in its entirety) include:

Harry Weathersby Stamps, ladies’ man, foodie, natty dresser, and accomplished traveler, died on Saturday, March 9, 2013.

As a former government and sociology professor for Gulf Coast Community College, Harry was thoroughly interested in politics and religion and enjoyed watching politicians act like preachers and preachers act like politicians. He was fond of saying a phrase he coined ‘I am not running for political office or trying to get married’ when he was ‘speaking the truth.’ He also took pride in his service during the Korean conflict, serving the rank of corporal—just like Napolean, as he would say.

He despised phonies, his 1969 Volvo (which he also loved), know-it-all Yankees, Southerners who used the words ‘veranda’ and ‘porte cochere’ to put on airs, eating grape leaves, Law and Order (all franchises), cats, and Martha Stewart. In reverse order. He particularly hated Day Light Saving Time, which he referred to as The Devil’s Time. It is not lost on his family that he died the very day that he would have had to spring his clock forward. This can only be viewed as his final protest.

While I have no intention of ever dying, I was also a Boy Scout for many years and believe in being prepared. After reading Stamps obituary, I decided that part of being prepared for the unlikelihood of death should be to have an obituary as unique and entertaining as his already written in the event of my improbable demise.

The idea of writing an obituary before the subject is deceased is nothing new. Newspapers often have obituaries prepared ahead of time, so why not have your own obituary ready as well? I’ve always felt bad for the dead person who never has the opportunity to hear the accolades expressed after his or her untimely death.

The same goes for the obituary. Harry Weathersby Stamps never had the opportunity to read this remarkable obituary before his death.

What a damn shame.

This is what makes Tom Sawyer one of my heroes. The boy faked his own death and attended his own funeral. Brilliant!

But writing my own obituary seems slightly uncouth. Self congratulatory. Possibly narcissistic.

At the very least, biased. 

So what I’m proposing, dear reader, is that you take a stab at writing my obituary for me. I’m not looking for a standard obit but something that is unique, entertaining, memorable and possibly amusing.

A Harry Weathersby Stamps kind of obituary.

I’d like it to capture the essence of who I am (or who you think I am) while also remaining truthful and sincere.

Of course, there will be a prize for the obituary that I like the best. While I’m not in the position to offer any sizeable cash reward, I’ve attempted to assemble a prize package that will make this endeavor worth your time.

It includes:

Signed copies of all three of my books plus a signed galley of my next book when it is available.
Your name or a name of your choice (within reason) to be used in my next book as the name of a minor character.
Publication of your obituary on this blog and possibly in a newspaper someday in the unlikely event that I die.

I’m also willing to negotiate this prize package, so if you have a suggestion for something else that I should offer, let me know.

Also, if you are in need of any biographical data for the completion of the obituary, just ask. The obituary will be judged on originality, entertainment value and its ability to capture the essence of who I am, but accuracy is important, too. That said, names and dates can always be added in later if necessary. I’m not as worried about you getting my birthday correct as I am about your ability to make this obituary one that people will enjoy and remember for a long time. 

Good luck!

Three-trick Charlie

My son now has three tricks in his repertoire of baby tricks. Each is quite possibly cuter than the next.

My wife gets credit for all three. All I did was watch. As I’ve said many times, she’s an amazing teacher.

 

 

Family motto inspired and then rejected

When my daughter is upset, she’s been known to cry out, “Never stop the cuddles!” My wife and I loved the expression so much that we decided to make it our family motto.

Ever since then, she has stopped saying it and rejects the notion entirely.

She is so clearly (and sometimes tragically) her father’s daughter.

A weaponized TV capable of melting metal

Having just completed my annual science fair with my students, I find myself incredibly relieved that none of them discovered this video when deciding upon projects.

This guy (who thankfully seems intelligent, reasonable and safe) has managed to create a laser from the parts of an old television and the power of the sun.

The man essentially melts metal and sets fire to concrete with nothing more than a television screen and the sun.

Not something I’d want my students to ever attempt, but just the kind of thing that you might want in the event of an apocalypse.

The definition of silly.

I found this hanging on the wall of my daughter’s preschool. Each child in her class was chosen to represent a specific emotion, and she was picked for silly. 

I’ve never actually seen her make this face before, which made the photo all the more surprising. 

What are my chances of getting this image into the dictionary under the word silly? I’ve tried to figure out how dictionaries choose images to match their definitions, but I can’t find a single word on the subject.

Yes, this is how I spend my time. Researching nonsense like this. Except wouldn’t it be great if I actually managed to get this photo into a real dictionary?

Sometimes there’s gold at the end of a rabbit hole.

Perhaps not this one.

Still, if this photo works in pre-school, why can’t it work for Merriam-Webster?

Paperback cover!

Behold the paperback cover for MEMOIRS OF AN IMAGINARY FRIEND.

The paperback edition doesn’t publish for another two months, so until then, you’ll simply have to purchase the hardcover version.

Fear not. As far as I know, it contains all the same words in the same order.