Shanna Swendson's Blog, page 263
December 10, 2010
Back from Narnia
I've been having one of those "can't deal" days, so it was a good one for escaping to the theater. I had some grand plans about going to the theater near the mall and finishing my Christmas shopping and taking care of a couple of errands, but changed my mind rather abruptly this morning. Instead, I decided to walk to the neighborhood theater for Voyage of the Dawn Treader.
If the Katherine Kurtz Deryni books were the "Twilight" of my teen years, the Narnia books were the "Harry Potter" series of my pre-teen years, only without having to wait years between books, since they'd all been written before I was born, and without the sense of everyone else reading them at the same time. I'd read The Horse and His Boy during my horse phase in third or fourth grade, but I didn't connect that book with a series, so my real introduction to Narnia was when I was in sixth grade and for some reason was meeting my mom at her office after school. I already felt very grown-up riding the base shuttle bus from the school to the post where my mom worked, and then when I got there, she gave me a copy of The Silver Chair, I guess to give me something to do until she got off work. It was around the time I'd read The Lord of the Rings, but I don't remember which came first, only that this was what really sealed the deal in making me a fantasy fan. The thing that was so great about Narnia was that it involved kids from our world who got to go to this fantastic place, so that made it possible to imagine going there, myself. Although the books had all been published already, I must have rationed them instead of reading them all right away, because I know I didn't read the last one until sometime the next year.
This all came about at a time when I really needed Narnia. That was a difficult year. The fall semester was just about perfect for me. My teacher was our neighbor, and I loved her. The upper elementary was in the same building with the junior high, so that meant sixth graders got to be in the junior high band and choir. I was in Girl Scouts with my best friend. I was a class officer and generally pretty popular. We had a great house right on the edge of the woods and a lot of kids in the neighborhood to play with. And then in February we moved, and I lost it all. At the new school, sixth graders couldn't be in band, and the choir was already formed, so I couldn't do that (which seems weird for a military base school). We had an apartment in the largest American military housing area in the world, and it was like a tenement area, just miles and miles of apartment buildings all crammed together (and I went back about ten years ago, so that's not just a skewed memory from childhood). The kids in the new school hated me (it turns out that a well-meaning but not thinking teacher had pretty much torpedoed me by the way he told the class they were getting a new student). I was being emotionally and psychologically bullied by the popular group of girls, although I didn't realize that until the next year when they got fed up with me not noticing I was being bullied and got physical with it, so I had to notice. I didn't like them, either, so I didn't much care what they thought of me, and most of the things they used to taunt me didn't actually bother me. The problem was just that I felt like nobody liked me because there was something wrong with me, and I was very lonely because I had no friends. I got home from school and escaped into Narnia, and I imagined what I would do if I could go there. So, yeah, those books hold a special place in my heart, and I spent so much time dreaming up mental fanfic about Narnia that the lines between what's actually in the books and what I came up with are kind of blurry.
However, these movies seem to have come out of my imagination because even when they don't follow the books, they have a sense of familiarity to them, like it was the way I pictured things or it was additional stories I made up in my head. I really enjoyed Voyage of the Dawn Treader. It's been long enough since I read the book that I couldn't tell exactly where they changed the book, but there were quite a lot of moments where I had the "ooh!" reaction when I suddenly remembered something from the book, and I didn't have any major "you're doing it wrong!" moments, so I consider that a success. This one is more of a quest adventure so there aren't any of those epic battles from the first two movies. It's more of an intimate story. I was really impressed with the kid playing Eustace because he went all out with the obnoxiousness, which made his transformation really work. Since my introduction to Eustace was in The Silver Chair, where he was the "good" kid, that's always colored my reaction to him in this book. I could never really hate him, even when he was a jerk, and in the movie he's a hilarious jerk. I do hope they get the next movie made (one reason I went on opening weekend to vote with my dollars), but I hope they wait enough to let him grow up a little because I think he'll make an interesting leading man, and I've liked what they've done in the movies of making the older kids in each film be teenagers and not just children. I rewatched the first two movies this week, and it's a treat to see how the other two have grown up. They did some great casting because Lucy now looks very much like Susan did in the first movie, which made the subplot where Lucy wishes she was as beautiful as Susan even more touching. I think that's a common thing, to have a skewed perspective of your own looks and to forget that the older kids were once your age.
I've not had a great week, so this was a good time for me to escape to Narnia, and I will confess to getting a pang similar to that I got in sixth grade when I found myself very sad that I couldn't actually go to a place like that myself. You know you've got a good fantasy story when it kind of hurts and makes you a little sad to know that this place isn't real. You feel a sense of loss for a place that doesn't exist.
If you read an older edition of the books, you should stay for the closing credits for a burst of nostalgia. They used the original book illustrations for the closing credits, which is a bit disconcerting at times, since Caspian is blond in the book and therefore in the closing credits and is very not blond in the movie.
I wonder what I'd find if I pushed to the back of the closet downstairs. There's probably enough stuff in there to hide a whole magical world ...
If the Katherine Kurtz Deryni books were the "Twilight" of my teen years, the Narnia books were the "Harry Potter" series of my pre-teen years, only without having to wait years between books, since they'd all been written before I was born, and without the sense of everyone else reading them at the same time. I'd read The Horse and His Boy during my horse phase in third or fourth grade, but I didn't connect that book with a series, so my real introduction to Narnia was when I was in sixth grade and for some reason was meeting my mom at her office after school. I already felt very grown-up riding the base shuttle bus from the school to the post where my mom worked, and then when I got there, she gave me a copy of The Silver Chair, I guess to give me something to do until she got off work. It was around the time I'd read The Lord of the Rings, but I don't remember which came first, only that this was what really sealed the deal in making me a fantasy fan. The thing that was so great about Narnia was that it involved kids from our world who got to go to this fantastic place, so that made it possible to imagine going there, myself. Although the books had all been published already, I must have rationed them instead of reading them all right away, because I know I didn't read the last one until sometime the next year.
This all came about at a time when I really needed Narnia. That was a difficult year. The fall semester was just about perfect for me. My teacher was our neighbor, and I loved her. The upper elementary was in the same building with the junior high, so that meant sixth graders got to be in the junior high band and choir. I was in Girl Scouts with my best friend. I was a class officer and generally pretty popular. We had a great house right on the edge of the woods and a lot of kids in the neighborhood to play with. And then in February we moved, and I lost it all. At the new school, sixth graders couldn't be in band, and the choir was already formed, so I couldn't do that (which seems weird for a military base school). We had an apartment in the largest American military housing area in the world, and it was like a tenement area, just miles and miles of apartment buildings all crammed together (and I went back about ten years ago, so that's not just a skewed memory from childhood). The kids in the new school hated me (it turns out that a well-meaning but not thinking teacher had pretty much torpedoed me by the way he told the class they were getting a new student). I was being emotionally and psychologically bullied by the popular group of girls, although I didn't realize that until the next year when they got fed up with me not noticing I was being bullied and got physical with it, so I had to notice. I didn't like them, either, so I didn't much care what they thought of me, and most of the things they used to taunt me didn't actually bother me. The problem was just that I felt like nobody liked me because there was something wrong with me, and I was very lonely because I had no friends. I got home from school and escaped into Narnia, and I imagined what I would do if I could go there. So, yeah, those books hold a special place in my heart, and I spent so much time dreaming up mental fanfic about Narnia that the lines between what's actually in the books and what I came up with are kind of blurry.
However, these movies seem to have come out of my imagination because even when they don't follow the books, they have a sense of familiarity to them, like it was the way I pictured things or it was additional stories I made up in my head. I really enjoyed Voyage of the Dawn Treader. It's been long enough since I read the book that I couldn't tell exactly where they changed the book, but there were quite a lot of moments where I had the "ooh!" reaction when I suddenly remembered something from the book, and I didn't have any major "you're doing it wrong!" moments, so I consider that a success. This one is more of a quest adventure so there aren't any of those epic battles from the first two movies. It's more of an intimate story. I was really impressed with the kid playing Eustace because he went all out with the obnoxiousness, which made his transformation really work. Since my introduction to Eustace was in The Silver Chair, where he was the "good" kid, that's always colored my reaction to him in this book. I could never really hate him, even when he was a jerk, and in the movie he's a hilarious jerk. I do hope they get the next movie made (one reason I went on opening weekend to vote with my dollars), but I hope they wait enough to let him grow up a little because I think he'll make an interesting leading man, and I've liked what they've done in the movies of making the older kids in each film be teenagers and not just children. I rewatched the first two movies this week, and it's a treat to see how the other two have grown up. They did some great casting because Lucy now looks very much like Susan did in the first movie, which made the subplot where Lucy wishes she was as beautiful as Susan even more touching. I think that's a common thing, to have a skewed perspective of your own looks and to forget that the older kids were once your age.
I've not had a great week, so this was a good time for me to escape to Narnia, and I will confess to getting a pang similar to that I got in sixth grade when I found myself very sad that I couldn't actually go to a place like that myself. You know you've got a good fantasy story when it kind of hurts and makes you a little sad to know that this place isn't real. You feel a sense of loss for a place that doesn't exist.
If you read an older edition of the books, you should stay for the closing credits for a burst of nostalgia. They used the original book illustrations for the closing credits, which is a bit disconcerting at times, since Caspian is blond in the book and therefore in the closing credits and is very not blond in the movie.
I wonder what I'd find if I pushed to the back of the closet downstairs. There's probably enough stuff in there to hide a whole magical world ...
Off to Narnia
And, boy, do I need a good imaginary world vacation. Back later.
December 9, 2010
Sidetracked
I've had a very sidetracked day. This morning I got sidetracked on a Christmas gift research project, and then I had to run some errands. You know it was bad when I got home from the errands and went to make my afternoon pot of tea and found this morning's second cup still in the pot. I've been sidetracked and undercaffeinated. And then while making tea I for some reason decided I absolutely had to wash dishes and clean the kitchen.
Usually, this means the subconscious is busy and needs me to get out of the way. I sure hope so. I finally figured out the right location for the big, pivotal scene (it helps to consider the problem from the perspective of the right people, the ones everyone else will react to), but I don't have the events and imagery quite right.
In the meantime, there's baking to do for the weekend, and tomorrow is Voyage of the Dawn Treader day, along with finishing the Christmas shopping.
Maybe I'll be more coherent tomorrow.
Usually, this means the subconscious is busy and needs me to get out of the way. I sure hope so. I finally figured out the right location for the big, pivotal scene (it helps to consider the problem from the perspective of the right people, the ones everyone else will react to), but I don't have the events and imagery quite right.
In the meantime, there's baking to do for the weekend, and tomorrow is Voyage of the Dawn Treader day, along with finishing the Christmas shopping.
Maybe I'll be more coherent tomorrow.
December 8, 2010
Magic and Magical Immunity
I've been fighting with a particular series of scenes in the work in progress for about a week. It's a big, pivotal sequence of events (the Approach to the Inmost Cave/Ordeal part of the book), so it has to be right, but it's felt all wrong. I figured out yesterday that the reason was that I was doing it wrong. The events were happening in the wrong place, and being in the wrong place changed the events. So I did some research to figure out the right place and did some re-planning, and the scene started playing out in my head. But then last night I realized that was still the wrong place, and there was only one location that makes sense thematically. Now I have to imagine how that would work. It's coming, but it's not quite there yet.
Now I believe I'm due for yet another Enchanted, Inc. question/answer post. I had a question about how the immunity reversal works, but I think I'm going to expand that to talk about how the magic and immunity thing works in my world. This is going to get really spoilery for all four books, so if you haven't read the whole series and have plans to, you might want to stop here and come back tomorrow.
The idea of magical immunity pretty much came from me being a brat -- or rather, a long-time fantasy reader who is well aware of the cliches of the genre. I'd come up with the idea of mixing elements from fantasy and chick lit to do a fantasy taking place in a familiar modern setting, including the corporate world and modern friendships and dating life. It made sense that my main character would be a newcomer to the magical side of things because the discovery of magic is a good way to have something change to kick off the story and having a newcomer allows you to fit in the explanations and world building without resorting to "as you know, Bob" type of clumsy exposition of people telling each other things they already know. I wanted the sense of discovery and wonder that comes from a newbie. Besides, the very first germ of an idea that kicked it all off was my joking wish as I headed to work one morning that in that morning's e-mail I'd get an offer for my dream job. That became a magical job, and from there a series was born. Because that was the spark, I wanted to include that moment in the book.
But about half the fantasy novels ever written are about someone seemingly ordinary (or even less than ordinary) who then finds out that he/she is actually a wizard/long lost royalty/the destined, chosen one (see Potter, H.). I thought it would be boring for my twentysomething single gal heroine to suddenly find out she has magical powers. It's been done so many times. Then the contrary part of my brain snarkily said, "What if she finds out she has no powers at all?" And then it occurred to me that being utterly non-magical might be useful. Meanwhile, I'd had an idea simmering in my head of doing a book about a small-town Southern girl going to New York and being kind of the anti-New Yorker -- the person who still notices odd things that New Yorkers take for granted, who smiles and speaks to strangers on the street, etc. The two ideas came together with a click that was practically audible. The magical immunity was almost a metaphor for common sense and outsider status, which fit with the small-town girl who hasn't been jaded by the city and who can still see the "magic."
When I was writing the first draft of the first book, I was still working a lot of the magical system out, so sometimes I'd find myself raising and answering questions on the page. During the job interview scene where they reveal the existence of magic to Katie, I found myself wondering why there weren't more magical immunes, where they come from and what happens to them, and I guess I'd seen one too many "ask your doctor about this magic pill" pharmaceutical ads on TV because it popped into my head that with an overmedicated society, if medication affected the ability, it would become rare. And if you're seeing people with wings and gargoyles coming to life, you're probably being medicated. Then as soon as that remark was made in the scene, I realized it would have to be something that would happen to Katie in a future book because once I raised the possibility of losing the ability she thought finally made her special, it would have to happen. I haven't talked about this in the books, but I suspect that what happens with that potion and with the drugs is that, unknown to the pharmacologists, what's really happening with these drugs is that they put just enough magic in the bloodstream to make magical veilings work, and that way these people don't see the weird stuff anymore. The drugs also do all the other things with brain chemicals to have other effects even on non-magical/non-immune people, so they work for them, too.
The idea that there was a close link between magical immunity and magical ability came in the fourth book. I decided it was probably the same gene, and whether it was turned off or on would make all the difference. In that book, I'd originally planned for another character to be the local wizard, and when I was halfway through the book, I decided that was obvious and boring (Mom figured it out when she was reading my first draft). So, I decided to really complicate matters by making it be Katie's brother, and I was able to justify that decision mentally with the genetic theory that made it possible to have both immunes and wizards in the same family. From that, I decided that the grandmother was also magical, so she got caught in the trap they set to catch the wizard that also ended up catching the brother. There's probably something to do with recessive genes and pairs of genes and all that that makes it more likely to get immunes when a wizard breeds with a non-magical person, but I haven't delved that deeply into it.
Ultimately, it comes down to the fact that it's magic, so it doesn't necessarily follow earthly rules, and this is essentially a comedy, so it's not meant to be taken all that seriously. I figure that covers a multitude of flaws and holes.
I think I've now addressed all the essay-worthy questions in my queue, so ask away if you've got any more. The ground rules are: No questions about plans for future books or that I might address in future books, no questions about when the next book is coming (that's not something I can do anything about), and questions should lend themselves to an essay kind of answer, not be just a nitpicky detail thing (though if I get a bunch of those I may do a post answering lots of short questions). Questions can be about characters, the world, events that happened in the first four books, etc., with the above guidelines in mind. I would say that aside from obvious things like "what will happen in the next book?" the first guideline above is more for me to worry about, so if you've got a question, ask, and it's up to me to decide whether that falls into the "for future books" category.
Now I believe I'm due for yet another Enchanted, Inc. question/answer post. I had a question about how the immunity reversal works, but I think I'm going to expand that to talk about how the magic and immunity thing works in my world. This is going to get really spoilery for all four books, so if you haven't read the whole series and have plans to, you might want to stop here and come back tomorrow.
The idea of magical immunity pretty much came from me being a brat -- or rather, a long-time fantasy reader who is well aware of the cliches of the genre. I'd come up with the idea of mixing elements from fantasy and chick lit to do a fantasy taking place in a familiar modern setting, including the corporate world and modern friendships and dating life. It made sense that my main character would be a newcomer to the magical side of things because the discovery of magic is a good way to have something change to kick off the story and having a newcomer allows you to fit in the explanations and world building without resorting to "as you know, Bob" type of clumsy exposition of people telling each other things they already know. I wanted the sense of discovery and wonder that comes from a newbie. Besides, the very first germ of an idea that kicked it all off was my joking wish as I headed to work one morning that in that morning's e-mail I'd get an offer for my dream job. That became a magical job, and from there a series was born. Because that was the spark, I wanted to include that moment in the book.
But about half the fantasy novels ever written are about someone seemingly ordinary (or even less than ordinary) who then finds out that he/she is actually a wizard/long lost royalty/the destined, chosen one (see Potter, H.). I thought it would be boring for my twentysomething single gal heroine to suddenly find out she has magical powers. It's been done so many times. Then the contrary part of my brain snarkily said, "What if she finds out she has no powers at all?" And then it occurred to me that being utterly non-magical might be useful. Meanwhile, I'd had an idea simmering in my head of doing a book about a small-town Southern girl going to New York and being kind of the anti-New Yorker -- the person who still notices odd things that New Yorkers take for granted, who smiles and speaks to strangers on the street, etc. The two ideas came together with a click that was practically audible. The magical immunity was almost a metaphor for common sense and outsider status, which fit with the small-town girl who hasn't been jaded by the city and who can still see the "magic."
When I was writing the first draft of the first book, I was still working a lot of the magical system out, so sometimes I'd find myself raising and answering questions on the page. During the job interview scene where they reveal the existence of magic to Katie, I found myself wondering why there weren't more magical immunes, where they come from and what happens to them, and I guess I'd seen one too many "ask your doctor about this magic pill" pharmaceutical ads on TV because it popped into my head that with an overmedicated society, if medication affected the ability, it would become rare. And if you're seeing people with wings and gargoyles coming to life, you're probably being medicated. Then as soon as that remark was made in the scene, I realized it would have to be something that would happen to Katie in a future book because once I raised the possibility of losing the ability she thought finally made her special, it would have to happen. I haven't talked about this in the books, but I suspect that what happens with that potion and with the drugs is that, unknown to the pharmacologists, what's really happening with these drugs is that they put just enough magic in the bloodstream to make magical veilings work, and that way these people don't see the weird stuff anymore. The drugs also do all the other things with brain chemicals to have other effects even on non-magical/non-immune people, so they work for them, too.
The idea that there was a close link between magical immunity and magical ability came in the fourth book. I decided it was probably the same gene, and whether it was turned off or on would make all the difference. In that book, I'd originally planned for another character to be the local wizard, and when I was halfway through the book, I decided that was obvious and boring (Mom figured it out when she was reading my first draft). So, I decided to really complicate matters by making it be Katie's brother, and I was able to justify that decision mentally with the genetic theory that made it possible to have both immunes and wizards in the same family. From that, I decided that the grandmother was also magical, so she got caught in the trap they set to catch the wizard that also ended up catching the brother. There's probably something to do with recessive genes and pairs of genes and all that that makes it more likely to get immunes when a wizard breeds with a non-magical person, but I haven't delved that deeply into it.
Ultimately, it comes down to the fact that it's magic, so it doesn't necessarily follow earthly rules, and this is essentially a comedy, so it's not meant to be taken all that seriously. I figure that covers a multitude of flaws and holes.
I think I've now addressed all the essay-worthy questions in my queue, so ask away if you've got any more. The ground rules are: No questions about plans for future books or that I might address in future books, no questions about when the next book is coming (that's not something I can do anything about), and questions should lend themselves to an essay kind of answer, not be just a nitpicky detail thing (though if I get a bunch of those I may do a post answering lots of short questions). Questions can be about characters, the world, events that happened in the first four books, etc., with the above guidelines in mind. I would say that aside from obvious things like "what will happen in the next book?" the first guideline above is more for me to worry about, so if you've got a question, ask, and it's up to me to decide whether that falls into the "for future books" category.
December 7, 2010
Holiday Movies
I guess I wasn't as eager to work yesterday as I thought. I completely ran out of energy by early afternoon. I did manage to write about three pages and do most of my freelance med school work, but otherwise, it was a day for lying on the sofa and watching movies. There was even a new holiday-themed movie on Lifetime.
Holiday-themed movies are kind of my guilty pleasure. I might even consider myself a connoisseur of them. I do have high standards, though. Or, considering the quality of most of these movies, maybe I should say I have particular standards. For one thing, I don't like the movies that are actually about Christmas, mostly because they aren't really about Christmas. They're about some genericized, tangential, commercial/secular thing that gets called Christmas, so it annoys me when the movie acts like it's really and truly about Christmas. I'm not sure a holiday-themed anything has been bold enough to actually address the true meaning since Linus's speech in A Charlie Brown Christmas. So I'm not a fan of just about anything that's about someone discovering the "true meaning of Christmas" when the "true meaning" is something like peace, love and generosity, with no mention of why those are part of the true meaning of Christmas. If you're not going to take it to the source, then don't bother pretending you're uncovering something meaningful. It's like those bland cards that are designed not to offend anyone by actually mentioning the reason you're sending a card.
As much as I love A Christmas Carol, I'm ready to call a moratorium on any updating or reimagining of that story, as well as the It's a Wonderful Life story. I'm tired of the stressed career woman discovering the true meaning of Christmas by magically waking up one day as a wife and mother, or vice versa. I'm tired of the driven executive changing after revisiting the past, seeing what's really going on in the present and getting a glimpse of the future. It's time to come up with another structure for a Christmas-themed story. I also avoid any holiday movie in which Santa Claus is an actual character, whether it's someone having to become Santa, Santa needing a wife, Santa's daughter/son needing a spouse, or any of those permutations.
Instead, what I like is using the holiday season as a setting to tell another story that possibly could have been told at another time of year but that is magnified by taking place during the holiday season. For one thing, there's the pretty factor. Twinkling lights, falling snow, fireplaces and all that are inherently romantic and fun to watch. Then there's the fact that the holidays amp up the emotional level. People who are perfectly content to be single eleven months out of the year may find themselves feeling lonely and wanting a partner at this time of year, whether it's because of the pretty, because of going to too many parties that feel like Noah's Ark with everyone else paired up, because of imagining a Christmas future being sad and alone, or because of questions about why they're not married yet at family gatherings. That can lead to people making decisions they otherwise wouldn't -- or being open to possibilities they otherwise wouldn't be. The holiday season also offers a change in routine that can create possibilities -- travel, being away from work, revisiting home towns, parties, neighbors/friends having family members visiting, the general holiday spirit that may get total strangers speaking to each other in public. The fact that the holiday season does end can even create a ticking clock, giving things a deadline -- things will go back to normal, you'll go home, the other person will go home, etc.
My preference is for well-done, big-screen movies. For classics, there's Christmas in Connecticut, in which a single woman who has adopted a perfect wife and mother persona for her newspaper columns has to play host to a war hero -- at her perfect Connecticut farm that doesn't actually exist -- as a publicity stunt. Then there's Love Actually, which really deals with that holiday season as stress issue. And The Holiday, which uses the change in routine to kick off the story. I'm also fond of While You Were Sleeping, which deals with the way the holidays amplify loneliness, and About a Boy, which also addresses loneliness vs. community (that one isn't strictly a holiday movie, but the main character is living on the royalties of a novelty Christmas song his father wrote, so Christmas does come up a lot and is pivotal). For non-holiday movies that contain pivotal holiday scenes, I include When Harry Met Sally and Bridget Jones's Diary. Since a lot of these also stretch to the new year, I often use these for that week between Christmas and New Year's Day when there's nothing much going on and nothing but bowl games on TV. A good film festival is a great way to beat the post-Christmas blues.
Then there are the made-for-TV movies, where we really get into the "guilty" part of "guilty pleasure." I'm less fond of the ABC Family movies, since those tend to go for the Santa plot or the "learn the true meaning of Christmas" plot. I lean more toward the Lifetime movies. Eleven months out of the year, I barely watch anything on Lifetime because I'm not a fan of the "my abusive husband left me while I was coping with my child's potentially fatal disease and being stalked" genre, but then the entire network changes in December and becomes the home of supremely cheesy romantic comedies set during the holiday season. They all seem to be filmed in Canada, so I guess a huge subset of the Canadian film/TV industry is devoted to these things. Some of them aren't all that bad while some make you wonder if there are any standards at all. A lot seem to be based on novels, which is why I have it on my literary bucket list to write a book that can get turned into a Lifetime holiday movie. I suppose I could make more money and cut out the middle man by writing a script, but I suspect I'd have an easier time selling a novel. These are all great for a boring Sunday afternoon when you want to lie on the sofa under a blanket, eat popcorn and drink hot cocoa, and possibly read a book while halfway paying attention to the TV.
There was one on last night that utterly baffled me. It was based on a book, so I now have that book on hold at the library so I can read it, compare and then discuss.
Meanwhile, I think I've made an executive decision not to put up the Christmas tree this year. The part of my holiday decor that I really like is the lighted garland on the loft and stair rail and over the fireplace, and that's what I can see from the places where I usually sit. I might even put up the little tabletop tree in my office. But I just don't want to deal with the furniture rearranging and everything else I have to do to put up the big tree. I think that maybe taking a year off and then doing something different with it next year will make it more special then.
Holiday-themed movies are kind of my guilty pleasure. I might even consider myself a connoisseur of them. I do have high standards, though. Or, considering the quality of most of these movies, maybe I should say I have particular standards. For one thing, I don't like the movies that are actually about Christmas, mostly because they aren't really about Christmas. They're about some genericized, tangential, commercial/secular thing that gets called Christmas, so it annoys me when the movie acts like it's really and truly about Christmas. I'm not sure a holiday-themed anything has been bold enough to actually address the true meaning since Linus's speech in A Charlie Brown Christmas. So I'm not a fan of just about anything that's about someone discovering the "true meaning of Christmas" when the "true meaning" is something like peace, love and generosity, with no mention of why those are part of the true meaning of Christmas. If you're not going to take it to the source, then don't bother pretending you're uncovering something meaningful. It's like those bland cards that are designed not to offend anyone by actually mentioning the reason you're sending a card.
As much as I love A Christmas Carol, I'm ready to call a moratorium on any updating or reimagining of that story, as well as the It's a Wonderful Life story. I'm tired of the stressed career woman discovering the true meaning of Christmas by magically waking up one day as a wife and mother, or vice versa. I'm tired of the driven executive changing after revisiting the past, seeing what's really going on in the present and getting a glimpse of the future. It's time to come up with another structure for a Christmas-themed story. I also avoid any holiday movie in which Santa Claus is an actual character, whether it's someone having to become Santa, Santa needing a wife, Santa's daughter/son needing a spouse, or any of those permutations.
Instead, what I like is using the holiday season as a setting to tell another story that possibly could have been told at another time of year but that is magnified by taking place during the holiday season. For one thing, there's the pretty factor. Twinkling lights, falling snow, fireplaces and all that are inherently romantic and fun to watch. Then there's the fact that the holidays amp up the emotional level. People who are perfectly content to be single eleven months out of the year may find themselves feeling lonely and wanting a partner at this time of year, whether it's because of the pretty, because of going to too many parties that feel like Noah's Ark with everyone else paired up, because of imagining a Christmas future being sad and alone, or because of questions about why they're not married yet at family gatherings. That can lead to people making decisions they otherwise wouldn't -- or being open to possibilities they otherwise wouldn't be. The holiday season also offers a change in routine that can create possibilities -- travel, being away from work, revisiting home towns, parties, neighbors/friends having family members visiting, the general holiday spirit that may get total strangers speaking to each other in public. The fact that the holiday season does end can even create a ticking clock, giving things a deadline -- things will go back to normal, you'll go home, the other person will go home, etc.
My preference is for well-done, big-screen movies. For classics, there's Christmas in Connecticut, in which a single woman who has adopted a perfect wife and mother persona for her newspaper columns has to play host to a war hero -- at her perfect Connecticut farm that doesn't actually exist -- as a publicity stunt. Then there's Love Actually, which really deals with that holiday season as stress issue. And The Holiday, which uses the change in routine to kick off the story. I'm also fond of While You Were Sleeping, which deals with the way the holidays amplify loneliness, and About a Boy, which also addresses loneliness vs. community (that one isn't strictly a holiday movie, but the main character is living on the royalties of a novelty Christmas song his father wrote, so Christmas does come up a lot and is pivotal). For non-holiday movies that contain pivotal holiday scenes, I include When Harry Met Sally and Bridget Jones's Diary. Since a lot of these also stretch to the new year, I often use these for that week between Christmas and New Year's Day when there's nothing much going on and nothing but bowl games on TV. A good film festival is a great way to beat the post-Christmas blues.
Then there are the made-for-TV movies, where we really get into the "guilty" part of "guilty pleasure." I'm less fond of the ABC Family movies, since those tend to go for the Santa plot or the "learn the true meaning of Christmas" plot. I lean more toward the Lifetime movies. Eleven months out of the year, I barely watch anything on Lifetime because I'm not a fan of the "my abusive husband left me while I was coping with my child's potentially fatal disease and being stalked" genre, but then the entire network changes in December and becomes the home of supremely cheesy romantic comedies set during the holiday season. They all seem to be filmed in Canada, so I guess a huge subset of the Canadian film/TV industry is devoted to these things. Some of them aren't all that bad while some make you wonder if there are any standards at all. A lot seem to be based on novels, which is why I have it on my literary bucket list to write a book that can get turned into a Lifetime holiday movie. I suppose I could make more money and cut out the middle man by writing a script, but I suspect I'd have an easier time selling a novel. These are all great for a boring Sunday afternoon when you want to lie on the sofa under a blanket, eat popcorn and drink hot cocoa, and possibly read a book while halfway paying attention to the TV.
There was one on last night that utterly baffled me. It was based on a book, so I now have that book on hold at the library so I can read it, compare and then discuss.
Meanwhile, I think I've made an executive decision not to put up the Christmas tree this year. The part of my holiday decor that I really like is the lighted garland on the loft and stair rail and over the fireplace, and that's what I can see from the places where I usually sit. I might even put up the little tabletop tree in my office. But I just don't want to deal with the furniture rearranging and everything else I have to do to put up the big tree. I think that maybe taking a year off and then doing something different with it next year will make it more special then.
December 6, 2010
I Survived the Weekend (Plus, Steampunking the Tree)
I managed to survive the crazy weekend, and I'm not even that tired and burnt out from it. My kindergarden choir was utterly adorable, and there was only one minor stage-fright meltdown before we sang (among the kids, not me -- but dealing with a crying child distracted me from my nerves). Then I think all the other choir stuff went pretty well. I was starting to lose my voice, but since a lot of what we were singing was jazz and I was singing the second soprano part, it wasn't a problem because I didn't have to sing that high and was mostly on the low end of my range. When we were warming up Sunday morning and going down to the low notes, I was hitting notes some of the tenors couldn't hit. The director teased about a soprano going lower than they they could. The evening concert coincided with the end of a suspenseful Cowboys game, so there were quite a few smartphones being held behind choir folders, with the ESPN app being constantly refreshed for updates.
A sign of how crazy my weekend was: I didn't realize until this morning that I hadn't turned my heater on in my house. We had a cold snap hit Saturday evening, and from Saturday night until Sunday night, I seemed to be constantly on the go, so that when I was at home I was either cooking/eating, getting dressed (with an electric radiator in the bathroom to warm that space) or going to bed (with an electric blanket). When I got up this morning, I finally had the chance to notice that the house was cold. It took the heater nearly an hour and a half to get the house up to 55, so it must have really been cold.
I kind of have an urge to write, so in spite of planning to give myself a day off, I think I will do some work. I may also put up some Christmas decorations.
I mentioned a couple of weeks ago that I was thinking about steampunking my Christmas tree. One of the issues I've found with steampunk, whether it's in clothing, decor or writing, is figuring out where regular Victorian ends and steampunk begins. Even in a steampunk world, not everything is going to be all brass goggles and Colt laser pistols. A schoolteacher, for instance, would probably be the same as in the regular Victorian era. She'd have no reason to wear brass goggles, though I suppose the Colt laser pistol would depend on where she was teaching school. I'm not sure I get the sticking gears all over the place, unless it's just a way of incorporating an interest into personal ornamentation, like the Victorian fascination with insects meant that there were a lot of insect themes in jewelry of that era. I guess wearing jewelry that incorporates gears would be no different from wearing bumblebee brooches.
My Christmas decor (and really a lot of my home decor) is already pretty Victorian. My Victorian tree involves silk flowers, some dried botanicals and ribbons and was inspired by a Christmas tour of Victorian homes I went on about ten years ago. I think what would tip it over to steampunk would be swapping out the botanical elements for more industrial elements.
After a recon mission to a couple of craft stores, I've decided this project will have to wait until next year because it will take some time to create the decorations with a mix of craft store items and hardware store items, as no one seems to currently have a steampunk line of ornaments. To steampunk the tree, I might do garlands of brass jingle bells and use some brass hardware on moire or velvet ribbons as ornaments. I've seen some LED lights that look like small bare globe electric lights that might fit the theme. There are some snowflake ornaments where the snowflakes look kind of gear-like. I do need to rethink my Christmas decor, as it hasn't changed much in ten years, but this isn't the year for that. I need to think further ahead. Maybe I'll hit some post-Christmas sales this year and keep an eye on hardware stores during the year. This year I don't have the time or money to redo it all.
In other news, I finally watched Avatar on HBO OnDemand this weekend. There was a lot I liked about it, but I lost a lot of interest once they got to the big, climactic stuff near the end because it was just so very heavy-handed, to the point it seemed unrealistic to me. I found it hard to believe the bad guys would do what they did because their motivations were so simplistic and they were so cardboard cut-out, and when your bad guys become cartoon villains, it ruins the credibility of the whole story. I think it would have helped if we'd seen how they were using this unobtanium (unobtanium? Seriously?), how it benefited them aside from making money and what would happen if they didn't get it. As it was, it came across as them just being mean, and that's not very interesting. You can have killer robots from the future or alien creatures who just kill mindlessly because that's what they do, but I think human villains need more nuance than that.
A sign of how crazy my weekend was: I didn't realize until this morning that I hadn't turned my heater on in my house. We had a cold snap hit Saturday evening, and from Saturday night until Sunday night, I seemed to be constantly on the go, so that when I was at home I was either cooking/eating, getting dressed (with an electric radiator in the bathroom to warm that space) or going to bed (with an electric blanket). When I got up this morning, I finally had the chance to notice that the house was cold. It took the heater nearly an hour and a half to get the house up to 55, so it must have really been cold.
I kind of have an urge to write, so in spite of planning to give myself a day off, I think I will do some work. I may also put up some Christmas decorations.
I mentioned a couple of weeks ago that I was thinking about steampunking my Christmas tree. One of the issues I've found with steampunk, whether it's in clothing, decor or writing, is figuring out where regular Victorian ends and steampunk begins. Even in a steampunk world, not everything is going to be all brass goggles and Colt laser pistols. A schoolteacher, for instance, would probably be the same as in the regular Victorian era. She'd have no reason to wear brass goggles, though I suppose the Colt laser pistol would depend on where she was teaching school. I'm not sure I get the sticking gears all over the place, unless it's just a way of incorporating an interest into personal ornamentation, like the Victorian fascination with insects meant that there were a lot of insect themes in jewelry of that era. I guess wearing jewelry that incorporates gears would be no different from wearing bumblebee brooches.
My Christmas decor (and really a lot of my home decor) is already pretty Victorian. My Victorian tree involves silk flowers, some dried botanicals and ribbons and was inspired by a Christmas tour of Victorian homes I went on about ten years ago. I think what would tip it over to steampunk would be swapping out the botanical elements for more industrial elements.
After a recon mission to a couple of craft stores, I've decided this project will have to wait until next year because it will take some time to create the decorations with a mix of craft store items and hardware store items, as no one seems to currently have a steampunk line of ornaments. To steampunk the tree, I might do garlands of brass jingle bells and use some brass hardware on moire or velvet ribbons as ornaments. I've seen some LED lights that look like small bare globe electric lights that might fit the theme. There are some snowflake ornaments where the snowflakes look kind of gear-like. I do need to rethink my Christmas decor, as it hasn't changed much in ten years, but this isn't the year for that. I need to think further ahead. Maybe I'll hit some post-Christmas sales this year and keep an eye on hardware stores during the year. This year I don't have the time or money to redo it all.
In other news, I finally watched Avatar on HBO OnDemand this weekend. There was a lot I liked about it, but I lost a lot of interest once they got to the big, climactic stuff near the end because it was just so very heavy-handed, to the point it seemed unrealistic to me. I found it hard to believe the bad guys would do what they did because their motivations were so simplistic and they were so cardboard cut-out, and when your bad guys become cartoon villains, it ruins the credibility of the whole story. I think it would have helped if we'd seen how they were using this unobtanium (unobtanium? Seriously?), how it benefited them aside from making money and what would happen if they didn't get it. As it was, it came across as them just being mean, and that's not very interesting. You can have killer robots from the future or alien creatures who just kill mindlessly because that's what they do, but I think human villains need more nuance than that.
December 3, 2010
War of the Characters (plus a programming note)
Ugh, I just thought I'd managed to shove the new idea aside. Here's a sample of what was going on in my head yesterday:
New Characters: Psst! What do you think of this scene?
Current Characters: Do you mind? We're busy here. We're about to go into the major mid-book action sequence.
New Characters: You know, we think it would work out better if our situation were a little different. You ought to think about it for a while.
Current Characters: WE'RE WORKING HERE!!!
New Characters: Okay, okay, we get it. But here are some things that you'll probably need to read for research before you write us. And wouldn't it be fun to start watching the world-building, mood-setting stuff?
Current Characters: Now, before we were so rudely interrupted, where were we?
New Characters: We wonder what we'd be wearing in this time period ...
Current Characters: That does it! We give up. Make her start thinking about clothes and it's over.
Me: All of you shut up. I'm going to bed.
And then they proceeded to alternate scenes in my dreams.
It doesn't help matters that an opportunity came through yesterday, plus the current project went out into the world in search of a home yesterday, so I know exactly which editors will be reading it. If that project sells and if they buy into the trilogy, then between that and the new opportunity I will be very, very busy next year. Not that this is a bad thing. That's the way to build momentum for a career. But the kind of working pace I'll need to keep up next year to do it all is a little daunting, especially considering that I'll then also need to be ramping up promotional efforts. It may be a year before I can really work on this new idea, aside from the preparation reading I'll need to do. This has also created some warring impulses. Part of me wants to buckle down and get to work now, because the more work I do now, the easier next year will be. And part of me is thinking that this could be my last deadline-free time to relax and enjoy myself until late next year, so I should make the most of it to gather my resources and be ready to plunge in full-speed ahead after the holidays. I'm not very good at balance. I seem to go into all-or-nothing mode, and if I'm not frantically working, I'll be feeling guilty about it, but if I try to work, then I'll get distracted and slack off. I just need to be better about managing my time and making the most of my working time. If the other characters would shut up and wait their turn, that would make things a lot easier.
Today may be one of my "balance" days, since I know the weekend is going to be so hectic and I'm still a little run-down after my cold (I almost slept the clock around last night). I may get some work done, but anything I accomplish will be considered a bonus. Otherwise, my main task for the day is baking some cookies for a church missions fundraiser. And I may load my Christmas music into iTunes and create a mix CD for driving around. I wish I could get a good recording of this year's choir stuff. We're doing jazz for Christmas, and it's awesome.
On a programming note, tonight the Disney Channel is showing Phineas and Ferb's Christmas Vacation, which is an extended episode, so it will run from 7:30 to 8:10 (central time). Because it overlaps Supernatural, I'll probably tape for viewing after Supernatural (and so I can pause the tape to laugh). Then Eureka and Warehouse 13 will have their holiday episodes on Tuesday night on SyFy. From what I understand, the Warehouse 13 episode takes place outside the current series timeline, like maybe in a holiday season we didn't see that happened in between events on the series. It won't be resolving the cliffhanger from the most recent season finale. If SyFy is going to do holiday episodes for their summer series, I'd love to see what a Haven Christmas would be like, but they couldn't do that this year because a holiday season hasn't fallen during the events of the series so far, and they'll have to resolve the current cliffhanger before going further.
New Characters: Psst! What do you think of this scene?
Current Characters: Do you mind? We're busy here. We're about to go into the major mid-book action sequence.
New Characters: You know, we think it would work out better if our situation were a little different. You ought to think about it for a while.
Current Characters: WE'RE WORKING HERE!!!
New Characters: Okay, okay, we get it. But here are some things that you'll probably need to read for research before you write us. And wouldn't it be fun to start watching the world-building, mood-setting stuff?
Current Characters: Now, before we were so rudely interrupted, where were we?
New Characters: We wonder what we'd be wearing in this time period ...
Current Characters: That does it! We give up. Make her start thinking about clothes and it's over.
Me: All of you shut up. I'm going to bed.
And then they proceeded to alternate scenes in my dreams.
It doesn't help matters that an opportunity came through yesterday, plus the current project went out into the world in search of a home yesterday, so I know exactly which editors will be reading it. If that project sells and if they buy into the trilogy, then between that and the new opportunity I will be very, very busy next year. Not that this is a bad thing. That's the way to build momentum for a career. But the kind of working pace I'll need to keep up next year to do it all is a little daunting, especially considering that I'll then also need to be ramping up promotional efforts. It may be a year before I can really work on this new idea, aside from the preparation reading I'll need to do. This has also created some warring impulses. Part of me wants to buckle down and get to work now, because the more work I do now, the easier next year will be. And part of me is thinking that this could be my last deadline-free time to relax and enjoy myself until late next year, so I should make the most of it to gather my resources and be ready to plunge in full-speed ahead after the holidays. I'm not very good at balance. I seem to go into all-or-nothing mode, and if I'm not frantically working, I'll be feeling guilty about it, but if I try to work, then I'll get distracted and slack off. I just need to be better about managing my time and making the most of my working time. If the other characters would shut up and wait their turn, that would make things a lot easier.
Today may be one of my "balance" days, since I know the weekend is going to be so hectic and I'm still a little run-down after my cold (I almost slept the clock around last night). I may get some work done, but anything I accomplish will be considered a bonus. Otherwise, my main task for the day is baking some cookies for a church missions fundraiser. And I may load my Christmas music into iTunes and create a mix CD for driving around. I wish I could get a good recording of this year's choir stuff. We're doing jazz for Christmas, and it's awesome.
On a programming note, tonight the Disney Channel is showing Phineas and Ferb's Christmas Vacation, which is an extended episode, so it will run from 7:30 to 8:10 (central time). Because it overlaps Supernatural, I'll probably tape for viewing after Supernatural (and so I can pause the tape to laugh). Then Eureka and Warehouse 13 will have their holiday episodes on Tuesday night on SyFy. From what I understand, the Warehouse 13 episode takes place outside the current series timeline, like maybe in a holiday season we didn't see that happened in between events on the series. It won't be resolving the cliffhanger from the most recent season finale. If SyFy is going to do holiday episodes for their summer series, I'd love to see what a Haven Christmas would be like, but they couldn't do that this year because a holiday season hasn't fallen during the events of the series so far, and they'll have to resolve the current cliffhanger before going further.
December 2, 2010
Tangled, Plus Noisy Ideas
I mentioned yesterday that I went to see Tangled Tuesday. I absolutely loved it. That's one I'll be getting on DVD as soon as it comes out because it's a sure cure for a bad day. I think the last time I laughed that hard in a movie was when I saw Toy Story 3 last summer. Plus, it fits my personal guidelines for a fantasy/paranormal romantic comedy. It's very much like a screwball comedy from the 30s and 40s, with the madcap "princess" exploring the world outside her comfort zones and the lower-class man serving as her guide. It's basically It Happened One Night with magic, musical numbers, a little more danger and adventure and a lot more hair.
The mythology/folklore/fairy tale geek in me was intrigued by the way they took the major beats of the Rapunzel tale and molded them into a new story. I like the way the more recent Disney fairy tale movies have allowed the relationships to grow, so that the hero and heroine actually spend time together instead of them falling in love after dancing together once. However, they did the usual Disney thing of casting a guy with a great voice and giving him a line in one song and a verse in another. I wouldn't be at all surprised if this is the next Disney Broadway production (though dealing with the hair might be a challenge) because it's very much that kind of story and music, so I hope in that the hero gets a new song or two (like they did with Beauty and the Beast).
But this movie really messed with my head. It sort of sparked an idea. I have a character from a project that didn't work out who refuses to go away. I still like this character and character situation/backstory, but wasn't sure what to do with it. Something in this movie gave me the sudden inspiration of what I could do with this character. When I got home, I did a brain dump, taking a piece of notebook paper and writing out everything I knew about this idea. But everything I wrote down sparked more ideas, and soon I had two pages filled, a world built, characters sketched out and the outline of a plot. These characters took over my brain and started playing out scenes. I both love it and hate it when this happens. I love it because that's how some of my best ideas develop, but I hate it because it makes it difficult to work on the current project when characters from another idea are being loud and obnoxious. I have learned that it's best not to just jump into a story, no matter how excited it makes me. It will be even better when I've had the chance to let it develop more, and I need to finish what I'm working on.
I didn't get anything done Tuesday because I was dealing with brain dump and distraction, but yesterday I managed to get back into the current project and even wrote five pages when I hadn't scheduled any writing time at all.
And now I'm off for my major holiday grocery shop. I'd planned to save it for next week, but there's a slight chance of serious winter weather next week, and the way things seem to work, if I've stocked up on food, we won't have any problems, but if the cupboards are bare, we're sure to get snow and ice.
The mythology/folklore/fairy tale geek in me was intrigued by the way they took the major beats of the Rapunzel tale and molded them into a new story. I like the way the more recent Disney fairy tale movies have allowed the relationships to grow, so that the hero and heroine actually spend time together instead of them falling in love after dancing together once. However, they did the usual Disney thing of casting a guy with a great voice and giving him a line in one song and a verse in another. I wouldn't be at all surprised if this is the next Disney Broadway production (though dealing with the hair might be a challenge) because it's very much that kind of story and music, so I hope in that the hero gets a new song or two (like they did with Beauty and the Beast).
But this movie really messed with my head. It sort of sparked an idea. I have a character from a project that didn't work out who refuses to go away. I still like this character and character situation/backstory, but wasn't sure what to do with it. Something in this movie gave me the sudden inspiration of what I could do with this character. When I got home, I did a brain dump, taking a piece of notebook paper and writing out everything I knew about this idea. But everything I wrote down sparked more ideas, and soon I had two pages filled, a world built, characters sketched out and the outline of a plot. These characters took over my brain and started playing out scenes. I both love it and hate it when this happens. I love it because that's how some of my best ideas develop, but I hate it because it makes it difficult to work on the current project when characters from another idea are being loud and obnoxious. I have learned that it's best not to just jump into a story, no matter how excited it makes me. It will be even better when I've had the chance to let it develop more, and I need to finish what I'm working on.
I didn't get anything done Tuesday because I was dealing with brain dump and distraction, but yesterday I managed to get back into the current project and even wrote five pages when I hadn't scheduled any writing time at all.
And now I'm off for my major holiday grocery shop. I'd planned to save it for next week, but there's a slight chance of serious winter weather next week, and the way things seem to work, if I've stocked up on food, we won't have any problems, but if the cupboards are bare, we're sure to get snow and ice.
December 1, 2010
The Hero's Journey: Ordeal
I'll have to talk about Tangled and the crazy effect it had on my brain (and possibly my hair) tomorrow because today is writing post day and it's also a kind of busy day.
On the hero's journey, as outlined by Christopher Vogler in his book The Writer's Journey, we're up to a stage called Ordeal. I have the first edition of the book, which calls this Supreme Ordeal, but I understand it was changed in later editions because it was confusing. This isn't the big showdown in which the hero accomplishes his goal and defeats the villain. That comes later in the story. This is the crisis the hero faces near the middle of the story that raises the stakes for what comes later. In the classic myths Joseph Campbell wrote about, which were mostly quest stories, this is the part where the hero obtains the quest object. At the time, this seems like he's accomplished his goal and triumphed, but he soon learns that getting the sword/chalice/grail/ring/elixir was the easy part. Now he has to get away from the temple/palace/underworld/realm of the gods with his prize and get it back home to where he can make use of it to save his people. In modern storytelling, especially film, this is the action sequence in the middle of the story between the major turning points.
In screenwriting terms, this is often called the "crisis," as compared to the "climax" that comes near the end of the story. I've also heard the metaphor calling this the "midterm" before the "final" that comes at the end, but I think it would be more accurate to call this the practice test. The hero may learn a thing or two more between here and the end, but the climax of the story essentially tests him on the same material as in the crisis. This part of the story shows where his strengths are while also revealing the weaknesses he'll have to overcome before he can ultimately prevail, so it's like taking the practice test at the back of the SAT registration booklet so you'll know what you need to work on before you take the actual test.
I've heard writing teachers say that if your story is going to end on an up note (as in most commercial fiction) -- the hero actually obtains his goal -- then this part of the story needs to end on a down note. I'm not sure I'd take this as a hard-and-fast rule, but the hero can't exactly be totally triumphant here or the story would be over. If he has some triumph here, it has to be of the "yes, but" sort, where he escapes the peril, but at some cost or sacrifice, or at least there's the knowledge that the job isn't done. In a tragic story, the hero may be triumphant and seem to achieve his goal, only to soon have it all crumble around him (you see that a lot in stories about bands -- this is where they've risen to fame and have their big concert, and then after this the band starts to dissolve in petty spats and personality conflicts).
This is also where the hero starts to transform. He may be wiser, have more information and more skills than he had at the beginning, but until now, he's still essentially the same person. Going through the ordeal starts to change him as he's forced to dig deep inside himself to find resources he never realized he had or he's faced with a concrete demonstration of his priorities and the consequences of his choices. There may be an encounter with death at this point -- either the hero faces death, seems to die or watches someone else die. Mentors drop like flies at this stage of the story. They've guided the hero along the way, got them this far, and then die, often in some kind of sacrifice to allow the hero to escape. It's like the training wheels have come off and the hero has to go on alone.
This segment may be a series of events instead of one big event. The original Star Wars is a good example of this. The whole sequence on the Death Star is the Ordeal of that movie -- Luke helps rescue the princess, they escape through the garbage chute, Luke appears to die when the creature pulls him under, then they face death when the walls converge. After escaping that, they're on the run from the Stormtroopers, they face the chasm that requires the daring swing, Luke watches Obi Wan die, then they escape on the Millennium Falcon and have a brief space battle. They escape, but they still have to find a way to stop the Death Star, and they know they've been tracked. Likewise, there's the Raiders of the Lost Ark sequence, with the escape through the snake-filled catacombs (the hero often faces his worst fear during this phase), the fight in front of the airplane, the car chase as they try to catch up to the Ark, and the fight to take control of the truck carrying the Ark.
In a less action-oriented story, this may be an emotional crisis. If a couple in a romance has been together up to this point, they may be separated. If they're still in the bickering phase, they may come together during this part. In romantic comedies, this is often where the love scene falls and where things start to look good for the couple -- only to have things go horribly wrong later when secrets are revealed. There's usually something that's happened to force our opposites attract pair to work together instead of fighting, and that creates a bond. Or this may be when the couple that was together gets split up because of something that happens in the ordeal -- one of them finds the truth the other was hiding, one appears to betray the other (for what usually turns out to be a good reason), or the villain grabs one of them.
This section is kind of the heart of the story and is often what people will remember most. It's not one of the two major turning points in a three-act structure, but it pays off all the set-up that's come before and showcases the hero at his best and at his worst while setting up the final confrontation and climax.
On the hero's journey, as outlined by Christopher Vogler in his book The Writer's Journey, we're up to a stage called Ordeal. I have the first edition of the book, which calls this Supreme Ordeal, but I understand it was changed in later editions because it was confusing. This isn't the big showdown in which the hero accomplishes his goal and defeats the villain. That comes later in the story. This is the crisis the hero faces near the middle of the story that raises the stakes for what comes later. In the classic myths Joseph Campbell wrote about, which were mostly quest stories, this is the part where the hero obtains the quest object. At the time, this seems like he's accomplished his goal and triumphed, but he soon learns that getting the sword/chalice/grail/ring/elixir was the easy part. Now he has to get away from the temple/palace/underworld/realm of the gods with his prize and get it back home to where he can make use of it to save his people. In modern storytelling, especially film, this is the action sequence in the middle of the story between the major turning points.
In screenwriting terms, this is often called the "crisis," as compared to the "climax" that comes near the end of the story. I've also heard the metaphor calling this the "midterm" before the "final" that comes at the end, but I think it would be more accurate to call this the practice test. The hero may learn a thing or two more between here and the end, but the climax of the story essentially tests him on the same material as in the crisis. This part of the story shows where his strengths are while also revealing the weaknesses he'll have to overcome before he can ultimately prevail, so it's like taking the practice test at the back of the SAT registration booklet so you'll know what you need to work on before you take the actual test.
I've heard writing teachers say that if your story is going to end on an up note (as in most commercial fiction) -- the hero actually obtains his goal -- then this part of the story needs to end on a down note. I'm not sure I'd take this as a hard-and-fast rule, but the hero can't exactly be totally triumphant here or the story would be over. If he has some triumph here, it has to be of the "yes, but" sort, where he escapes the peril, but at some cost or sacrifice, or at least there's the knowledge that the job isn't done. In a tragic story, the hero may be triumphant and seem to achieve his goal, only to soon have it all crumble around him (you see that a lot in stories about bands -- this is where they've risen to fame and have their big concert, and then after this the band starts to dissolve in petty spats and personality conflicts).
This is also where the hero starts to transform. He may be wiser, have more information and more skills than he had at the beginning, but until now, he's still essentially the same person. Going through the ordeal starts to change him as he's forced to dig deep inside himself to find resources he never realized he had or he's faced with a concrete demonstration of his priorities and the consequences of his choices. There may be an encounter with death at this point -- either the hero faces death, seems to die or watches someone else die. Mentors drop like flies at this stage of the story. They've guided the hero along the way, got them this far, and then die, often in some kind of sacrifice to allow the hero to escape. It's like the training wheels have come off and the hero has to go on alone.
This segment may be a series of events instead of one big event. The original Star Wars is a good example of this. The whole sequence on the Death Star is the Ordeal of that movie -- Luke helps rescue the princess, they escape through the garbage chute, Luke appears to die when the creature pulls him under, then they face death when the walls converge. After escaping that, they're on the run from the Stormtroopers, they face the chasm that requires the daring swing, Luke watches Obi Wan die, then they escape on the Millennium Falcon and have a brief space battle. They escape, but they still have to find a way to stop the Death Star, and they know they've been tracked. Likewise, there's the Raiders of the Lost Ark sequence, with the escape through the snake-filled catacombs (the hero often faces his worst fear during this phase), the fight in front of the airplane, the car chase as they try to catch up to the Ark, and the fight to take control of the truck carrying the Ark.
In a less action-oriented story, this may be an emotional crisis. If a couple in a romance has been together up to this point, they may be separated. If they're still in the bickering phase, they may come together during this part. In romantic comedies, this is often where the love scene falls and where things start to look good for the couple -- only to have things go horribly wrong later when secrets are revealed. There's usually something that's happened to force our opposites attract pair to work together instead of fighting, and that creates a bond. Or this may be when the couple that was together gets split up because of something that happens in the ordeal -- one of them finds the truth the other was hiding, one appears to betray the other (for what usually turns out to be a good reason), or the villain grabs one of them.
This section is kind of the heart of the story and is often what people will remember most. It's not one of the two major turning points in a three-act structure, but it pays off all the set-up that's come before and showcases the hero at his best and at his worst while setting up the final confrontation and climax.
November 30, 2010
The Romantic Comedy Cold Cure
In spite of still coughing and being tired, I managed to write 20 pages yesterday, and I think I even like them. I "met" a character who's been lurking around the corners, and I already think she'll be a lot of fun.
Since romantic comedies are sort of my "comfort food" viewing, I figured that the best way to complete the cure of my cold would be to spend the rest of the weekend after I got home watching romantic comedies. Leap Year was on HBO Saturday night. I discussed that when I saw it at the theater, and I rather liked it then. I found it mostly annoying this time around, at least until they passed the constant bickering point. There was the aforementioned awful guilty pleasure Lifetime holiday romantic comedy on Sunday afternoon.
Then Sunday night I watched It's Complicated on HBO OnDemand, and my response to it would be complicated. The story is about a divorced woman (Meryl Streep) with three grown children (the youngest graduates from college near the beginning of the movie) and a shaky but at least superficially cordial relationship with her ex (Alec Baldwin), who left her for a younger woman, to whom he's now married. When his wife doesn't come with him to their son's graduation, a friendly drink and dinner ends up in the bedroom, and soon this woman is having an affair with her ex, who suddenly seems to appreciate her in a way he never did when they were married. Meanwhile, she's met a nice architect (Steve Martin) who really seems to get her. She's enjoying herself, but isn't sure where it's going or what she wants.
I loved Meryl Streep, and her scenes with her family were lovely. I thought she also had a nice chemistry with Steve Martin. Alec Baldwin, on the other hand, was highly annoying. I liked him in Hunt for Red October, but other than that, he irks me. In this movie, he's supposed to be a jerk. I don't know if he's like that in real life (oh wait, there's taped evidence that he is), but he really pulls it off here. I think he's also supposed to be charming, but he mostly comes across as self-centered and immature. To some extent, that seems to be the point, but it takes Meryl a long time to realize that. I'm not sure I can imagine her ever marrying him in the first place (though I guess if he looked like Hunt for Red October Alec Baldwin, I could maybe understand).
There was an angle I found interesting that was never addressed outright, so I'm not sure if they meant it. John Krasinski plays the oldest daughter's fiance, and he seems to have fallen into the role of "dad" for the family, even though he's not much older than the younger kids. Their real dad is a lot less mature than the oldest daughter's fiance, and the fiance is the one they turn to for the kinds of things a dad does, like helping them move, hosting a graduation party and being the emotional rock when things are going crazy. For me, the funniest scene in the movie is when he accidentally learns of the affair from what he sees while he and his fiancee are meeting with a wedding coordinator at a hotel and he tries to keep what he's seen quiet so it won't freak out his fiancee, even while he's freaking out. They never talk about his role as "dad" or the fact that he's more of a man than the real father who's old enough to be his father is. I guess that means this angle is still wide open for exploration in another story. Hmmm .....
But this film does resort twice to one of my pet peeves in movies (and books, too, I guess), especially in romantic comedy type films: the use of alcohol and drugs to create turning points. It's not just that I'm a puritan (though I kind of am) and not crazy about the idea of glamorizing drug use or alcohol abuse. I mostly think, though, that it's lazy writing and a bit of a cop-out. Instead of coming up with a reason for the characters to open up to each other and lower their guard so they can bond, just have them get drunk or high so that they'll say or do things they otherwise wouldn't. I'm well aware that in the real world there are a lot of relationships that begin (and end) and births that come about because of the influence of mind-altering substances, but fiction is all about character choices, usually made under some kind of pressure. That's what develops the characters and drives the plot. When you remove the choice by putting the characters into a situation where things just happen and they've lost control over what's happening and even their own reactions, you've made the characters passive instead of active. I suppose you could consider the drinking or the using drugs to be a choice, but it's seldom actually treated that way in these movies. They almost never address the choice to get drunk or high and the consequences of that choice, focusing instead on the fallout from the things that "just happened" while the characters were drunk or high. It's just a shortcut to get that "opposites attract" couple to stop bickering, loosen up, bond and possibly fall into bed so the story can progress. And I think it's the least interesting way to break down the barriers between people because not only are they not making choices, they're not consciously dealing with their circumstances. I figure that if you can't come up with a way other than drugs or alcohol to get your characters to talk to each other and start to see something they like in each other, then you haven't developed a good reason why these people should be together at all.
I suppose I have to give this movie the first incident because something had to kick things off and the movie was all about the aftermath, but I think it's like the use of coincidence in stories (which is also about removing the element of conscious choice) -- you get one use per story, and while you can use it to get things rolling, you can't use it to set up a turning point or advance the plot.
In other movie romance news, I ran across a funny article at Cracked about the things people do in romantic movies that would get you prison time in real life. They do address the mad airport dash past security in order to catch the true love. Though aside from Love, Actually, for the most part, the post-9/11 romantic comedies have taken the "pay an outrageous amount of money for a plane ticket that will get you past security" approach to the mad dash to catch the true love before the plane leaves.
And now I'm off to see Tangled, which I sincerely hope won't rely on the characters getting high on pixie dust or getting drunk in order for them to get together.
Since romantic comedies are sort of my "comfort food" viewing, I figured that the best way to complete the cure of my cold would be to spend the rest of the weekend after I got home watching romantic comedies. Leap Year was on HBO Saturday night. I discussed that when I saw it at the theater, and I rather liked it then. I found it mostly annoying this time around, at least until they passed the constant bickering point. There was the aforementioned awful guilty pleasure Lifetime holiday romantic comedy on Sunday afternoon.
Then Sunday night I watched It's Complicated on HBO OnDemand, and my response to it would be complicated. The story is about a divorced woman (Meryl Streep) with three grown children (the youngest graduates from college near the beginning of the movie) and a shaky but at least superficially cordial relationship with her ex (Alec Baldwin), who left her for a younger woman, to whom he's now married. When his wife doesn't come with him to their son's graduation, a friendly drink and dinner ends up in the bedroom, and soon this woman is having an affair with her ex, who suddenly seems to appreciate her in a way he never did when they were married. Meanwhile, she's met a nice architect (Steve Martin) who really seems to get her. She's enjoying herself, but isn't sure where it's going or what she wants.
I loved Meryl Streep, and her scenes with her family were lovely. I thought she also had a nice chemistry with Steve Martin. Alec Baldwin, on the other hand, was highly annoying. I liked him in Hunt for Red October, but other than that, he irks me. In this movie, he's supposed to be a jerk. I don't know if he's like that in real life (oh wait, there's taped evidence that he is), but he really pulls it off here. I think he's also supposed to be charming, but he mostly comes across as self-centered and immature. To some extent, that seems to be the point, but it takes Meryl a long time to realize that. I'm not sure I can imagine her ever marrying him in the first place (though I guess if he looked like Hunt for Red October Alec Baldwin, I could maybe understand).
There was an angle I found interesting that was never addressed outright, so I'm not sure if they meant it. John Krasinski plays the oldest daughter's fiance, and he seems to have fallen into the role of "dad" for the family, even though he's not much older than the younger kids. Their real dad is a lot less mature than the oldest daughter's fiance, and the fiance is the one they turn to for the kinds of things a dad does, like helping them move, hosting a graduation party and being the emotional rock when things are going crazy. For me, the funniest scene in the movie is when he accidentally learns of the affair from what he sees while he and his fiancee are meeting with a wedding coordinator at a hotel and he tries to keep what he's seen quiet so it won't freak out his fiancee, even while he's freaking out. They never talk about his role as "dad" or the fact that he's more of a man than the real father who's old enough to be his father is. I guess that means this angle is still wide open for exploration in another story. Hmmm .....
But this film does resort twice to one of my pet peeves in movies (and books, too, I guess), especially in romantic comedy type films: the use of alcohol and drugs to create turning points. It's not just that I'm a puritan (though I kind of am) and not crazy about the idea of glamorizing drug use or alcohol abuse. I mostly think, though, that it's lazy writing and a bit of a cop-out. Instead of coming up with a reason for the characters to open up to each other and lower their guard so they can bond, just have them get drunk or high so that they'll say or do things they otherwise wouldn't. I'm well aware that in the real world there are a lot of relationships that begin (and end) and births that come about because of the influence of mind-altering substances, but fiction is all about character choices, usually made under some kind of pressure. That's what develops the characters and drives the plot. When you remove the choice by putting the characters into a situation where things just happen and they've lost control over what's happening and even their own reactions, you've made the characters passive instead of active. I suppose you could consider the drinking or the using drugs to be a choice, but it's seldom actually treated that way in these movies. They almost never address the choice to get drunk or high and the consequences of that choice, focusing instead on the fallout from the things that "just happened" while the characters were drunk or high. It's just a shortcut to get that "opposites attract" couple to stop bickering, loosen up, bond and possibly fall into bed so the story can progress. And I think it's the least interesting way to break down the barriers between people because not only are they not making choices, they're not consciously dealing with their circumstances. I figure that if you can't come up with a way other than drugs or alcohol to get your characters to talk to each other and start to see something they like in each other, then you haven't developed a good reason why these people should be together at all.
I suppose I have to give this movie the first incident because something had to kick things off and the movie was all about the aftermath, but I think it's like the use of coincidence in stories (which is also about removing the element of conscious choice) -- you get one use per story, and while you can use it to get things rolling, you can't use it to set up a turning point or advance the plot.
In other movie romance news, I ran across a funny article at Cracked about the things people do in romantic movies that would get you prison time in real life. They do address the mad airport dash past security in order to catch the true love. Though aside from Love, Actually, for the most part, the post-9/11 romantic comedies have taken the "pay an outrageous amount of money for a plane ticket that will get you past security" approach to the mad dash to catch the true love before the plane leaves.
And now I'm off to see Tangled, which I sincerely hope won't rely on the characters getting high on pixie dust or getting drunk in order for them to get together.
