Matthew Dicks's Blog, page 492

This is not possible.

Honestly, what this man does should not be possible.

This might be the first time I have ever seen an actual superhero in action.

Is this a new and innovative way of writing a novel, or am I simply being stupid again?

I’m slowly becoming obsessed with an idea that I stumbled upon during the weekend  performances of our rock opera, The Clowns.

After workshopping the production for two weeks with the actors, director and my writing partner, the show has evolved in ways I could have never imagined.   

Most surprising for me was the way in which the actors have informed my vision of the characters. In less than two weeks, these characters have become more compelling, fully realized beings, and much of this progress was the result of the talent and insight of the actors portraying them. From improved dialogue to newfound aspects to a character’s personality to invented backstory to something as simple as the way a character walks and moves, these skilled and thoughtful professionals have provided me with an enormous amount of material for future revisions.

In many ways, they have come to know the characters better than me, and I couldn’t be more grateful. I’ve stolen so much from each one of them already, and I hope to continue to do so as we move forward.

As a novelist, I suddenly find myself wishing that I could have professionals like these performing each of the scenes in my manuscript as I finish them. I fear that there is so much more that I could learn about my characters if I could involve actors in the writing process.

This is the idea that has consumed me for the last few days.

Maybe I should give this a try. If I choose the right book idea, with a small enough number of characters (my books tend to be sparsely populated already) and a relatively uncomplicated setting, it might be possible for me to work with a group of improvisational actors and a director to inform my writing process. 

At the minimum, it would be something new, and even if it failed to inform my writing in the ways that I am envisioning, it couldn’t hurt the process.  I often think the publishing industry should be looking for more ways to innovate our product. Perhaps this could be one of those ways,   

Of course, I’d need enough money to keep professional actors on staff during the writing process, but maybe Kickstarter could help.

Would readers be willing to fund a project like this in return for a signed first edition of the novel (signed by the author and the actors) plus complete video footage of each of the scenes as performed by the actors involved?

Is there something else that I might be able to offer as part of a Kickstarter package that readers would enjoy? Maybe a copy of the initial draft of each chapter followed by the revised copy of the chapter after having watched the scene portrayed by the actors? 

I would love your thoughts on this idea. I’ve been prone to falling in love with some unlikely, unreasonable, unfeasible ideas in the past, and if this is just another one of them, please let me know.

Save me from myself.

But if you think it has merit and have any ideas to add to it, please let me know. that as well.

Memoirs of an Imaginary Friend: German

The German edition of MEMOIRS OF AN IMAGINARY FRIEND arrived today, and I love it. I think the cover is completely ingenious.

I can’t wait for it to hit German bookshelves in April.

 

What did Olivia do this time?

My daughter wouldn’t tell me, but she was not happy. 

 

I never know what I’m actually writing about

Long after I finished writing my first novel, SOMETHING MISSING, I discovered, only after my wife and therapist pointed it out to me, that I had written a book about my battles with post traumatic stress disorder, my hatred toward my evil step-father and my longing for my absent father.

I didn’t know any of these things while actually writing the book. These revelations were only pointed out to me much later.

Upon finishing my second novel, UNEXPECTEDLY, MILO, I discovered that I had written a book about the challenges that I’ve faced throughout my life as a result of refusing to conform. Though readers might think me crazy, it turns out that the most noble character in that story (at least for me) is Louis the Porn Fiend, a character who my agent suggested I cut and who only appears in one chapter. Louis’s nobility derives from his willingness to remain true to himself, even though the world around him may be repulsed by this essential truth.

As Budo says in MEMOIRS OF AN IMAGINARY FRIEND, “You have to be the bravest person in the world to go out every day, being yourself, when no one likes who you are.”

In the process of writing MEMOIRS OF AN IMAGINARY FRIEND, I discovered that I was actually writing about my obsession with mortality and my near-constant existential fear as a result of two near death experiences and a robbery at gunpoint. In fact, an armed robbery takes place in the book, but while writing the scene, it never occurred to me that I might actually be writing about my own experience and the fear still surrounding it.

Books can be funny this way. You think you’re writing about one thing and you’re actually writing about something entirely different.

It turns out that playwriting is the same.

While watching last night’s performance of The Clowns, I wondered why Jake, the play’s protagonist/antagonist, appeals to me so much when so many audience members expressed dislike and even hatred toward the character following the previous show. His likability has been a question that I’ve been considering for quite a while, and the answer finally struck me like a load of bricks last night during the first act.

Jake is me when I was his age.

The Jake who I wrote is far cooler than I ever was, and the actor playing the role is even cooler than the character written on the page, but at his heart, Jake represents someone who I once was, and in that instant, I understood the character completely and knew that needed to be done to mitigate the loathing that audience members felt for him and develop him further.

This couldn’t have happened had not the actor, Richard Hollman, not fully  inhabited the character to the degree he has. I don’t think I will ever think of Jake without thinking of Rich. There may be other actors who play the role of Jake someday, but in my mind, Jake will always be Rich, and Rich will always be Jake. It was only through his performance that I was able to truly see the character, and in many ways, see myself.

All this probably sounds a little hokey (and I agree), but I can’t adequately express how stunned I felt when this realization finally dawned upon me. Not only did the character of Jake become instantly clear to me like never before, but I suddenly understood myself in ways I had never even approached. 

It was an honest-to-goodness moment of epiphany.

Once again, I find myself thinking that I am writing about one thing when in reality, I am writing about another.

I should stop being surprised, but I can’t. It’s so bizarre.

Writing is a strange gig. I often say that I get paid for making up stuff in my head, and while this may be true to some extent, it turns out that writing is far more complex and mysterious than it ever seems.

At least for me. 

Kurt Cobain and Budo (and Boodah)

If you’ve read MEMOIRS OF AN IMAGINARY FRIEND, you’ll know that it is a story written from the perspective of an imaginary friend named Budo.

Budo is actually the name of a real imaginary friend. Friends of mine have twin boys, and these boys have shared imaginary friends, including one named Budo. They told me about him one evening while we were eating dinner at their house, and when I asked if Budo was in the room, they said he was and pointed to the same corner at the same time.

Creepy.

When I started writing the book and needed a name for my imaginary friend protagonist, I chose the name of the boy’s imaginary friend.

My friends claim that the spelling of their son’s imaginary friend’s name was actually Beaudeaux, but I think they were just trying to annoy me.

In a bizarre and somewhat eerie coincidence, Kurt Cobain’s suicide letter is addressed to his childhood imaginary friend, Boodah. You can see an image of the letter here, and a more legible copy of the text can be found here.

Curt Cobain and Budo (and Boodah)

If you’ve read MEMOIRS OF AN IMAGINARY FRIEND, you’ll know that it is a story written from the perspective of an imaginary friend named Budo.

Budo is actually the name of a real imaginary friend. Friends of mine have twin boys, and these boys have shared imaginary friends, including one named Budo. They told me about him one evening while we were eating dinner at their house, and when I asked if Budo was in the room, they said he was and pointed to the same corner at the same time.

Creepy.

When I started writing the book and needed a name for my imaginary friend protagonist, I chose the name of the boy’s imaginary friend.

My friends claim that the spelling of their son’s imaginary friend’s name was actually Beaudeaux, but I think they were just trying to annoy me.

In a bizarre and somewhat eerie coincidence, Kurt Cobain’s suicide letter is addressed to his childhood imaginary friend, Boodah. You can see an image of the letter here, and a more legible copy of the text can be found here.

Opening night for The Clowns! And perhaps a new way of writing fiction?

Opening night of our rock opera, The Clowns, was a huge success. Over the last eight days, the actors, musicians and director have taken our original vision and brought it do life, and in the process, the show has become so much more complete.

Most surprising for me has been the way in which the actors have informed my vision of the characters. In less than two weeks, each of them have used the script and score to develop their characters into more compelling, fully realized beings. From improved dialogue to newfound aspects to a character’s personality and backstory to something as simple as the way a character walks, the actors have provided me with an enormous amount of material for future revisions.

In many ways, they have come to know these characters better than me. I couldn’t be more grateful. I’ve stolen so much from each one of them and plan on doing so much more.

As a novelist, I suddenly find myself wishing that I could have professionals like these performing each of the scenes in my manuscript. I fear that there is so much more that I could learn about my characters if I could involve actors in the process.

Perhaps someday I might give this a try.

Of course, I’ll need enough money to keep professional actors on staff during the writing process, but there is always hoping.

Actually, maybe Kickstarter could help. Would readers be willing to fund a project like this in return for a signed first edition of the novel (signed by rhe author and the actors) plus complete video footage of each of the scenes as performed by the actors involved?

The more I think about it, the more interested I become. 

Our second show kicks off tonight 8:00 PM tonight at The Playhouse on Park. If you’re local and would like to attend, please call the Playhouse on Park in advance. We may be sold out for the Saturday performance.

In the meantime, here is a sneak peek of the show. This was recorded a few days ago during one of our music rehearsals. The song is called Forever, Wrapped Up in a Day, written and composed by my writing partner, Andy Mayo.  

I miss my family.

I’ve been in the theater until 11:00 PM for the last three nights, working with actors and musicians and directors in order to bring our rock opera, The Clowns, from vision to reality.

It’s been an amazing experience, but everything comes with a cost. For me, the cost has been missing moments like these for the last three days.

Not easy.

  

My hairdresser and I are not brother and sister. We just don’t like small talk.

As I was getting my hair cut yesterday, my hairdresser, Jen, and I were engaged in a discussion about the dynamics of the typical spousal relationship as it relates to the fundamental nature of men and women.

I know that might sound erudite and possibly an exaggeration, but it’s not. It’s truly what we were speaking about.

At one point, we disagreed on what was previously said, so we turned to the woman in the adjacent chair for a ruling. Jen asked, “Have you been listening to what we’ve been saying?”

“No,” the woman said, lowering her magazine and glaring at us. “But are you guys brother and sister? Because you argue like you are.”

Jen laughed. “No, we’re not arguing. This is the way we always talk. Actually, I think this is the way Matt talks with everyone.”

This is why I adore my hairdresser. When I go to the salon every four to six weeks to get my hair cut, I’m never forced to endure meaningless small talk or mindless jibber-jabber. Jen and I invariably end up in a discussion with enough depth and passion to cause people sitting next to us to assume that we must be related in some way in order to speak to one another with so pointedly and with so much emotion.

That, and she’s fast. I’m in and out in less than 45 minutes every time, and that includes a shampoo. 

I can’t stand to waste time on something as ultimately meaningless as a haircut.