Luna (Lindsey) Corbden's Blog, page 7
July 20, 2012
Mystic Water (and Cookies) (photo)
Grocery Store in Pasco, WA 2009In my hometown, they're not really sure what to call those fancy health drinks the cityfolk make...
July 18, 2012
Claws and Fangs - An Allegory Of Privilege
A few years ago, a comedy movie called Swingers told the story of a group of men who went to bars and picked up chicks. This clip is SFW, though with some use of the F-bomb:
Please set aside all nuances of sexism that may or may not be in this scene or in my extrapolation. Do not be distracted by my overuse of the term "bunny". Because that's not the point. As Dr. Horrible said, "It's not a perfect analogy."
All men are money. All men are big bears with claws and fangs. Some of them are batting bunnies around not knowing how to kill them, or even if they should. Some are gently frolicking alongside the bunnies, having a great time. Some are working with the bunnies, finding common causes, building upon each other's strengths and weaknesses to accomplish big-forest-things. (Stay with me here.)
A few bad bears know perfectly well that they have those claws and they go for the kill every time.
Bears have strengths that bunnies clearly do not. Bunnies are small and weak and their claws are more like long toenails and their teeth are good for eating vegetables.
The bear is privileged. The bunny is not. Whether the bear knows it or not does not change the fact that the bear is massive and strong and has claws and fangs. Even nice bears still have those claws and fangs, and no matter how nice they are, they will not turn into a bunny. If the bunny says to the bear, "My, what big fangs you have," she is not actually saying, "You're a stupid jerk evil bear who wants to kill me." She is merely pointing out something the bear has that she does not.
In real life, most bears are actually more interested in eating berries than bunnies. (The Black Bear here in Washington State is 85% vegetarian.) So let's lie with statistics, and assume in this corny analogy that 85% of bears aren't at all interested in bunny-flesh. 15% of the bears will, like Mikey the Swinger in the above clip, learn to use those claws and fangs to intentionally kill every bunny they see.
And then it happens -- he steps on a bunny.
And the bunny is squealing like a banshee and in pain and bleeding from huge claw marks all down her side.
Mr. McNiceBear says, "What's the matter? I didn't do anything. You should have gotten out of my way. That doesn't hurt. Stop whining."
The bear is so money, and he doesn't even know it.
It's not the bear's fault that he has claws and fangs. It's just how things are. Only the most Radical Anti-Bear Bunnies blame the bear for being who he is. Nevertheless, it is dangerous to be a bunny in a bear world, so the bunnies keep trying to explain. They would really appreciate it if the nice bears would try to be more careful. They only want the nice bears to realize just how money they really are.
When Mr. McNiceBear accidentally steps on a bunny, instead of blaming the bunny, she wants him to apologize and ask if she's okay. If the bear is confused, which is understandable, she wants him to ask, politely, for details. She wants a chance to explain why the trampling hurt and where he should avoid stepping next time.
And when the bunny points out she is tiny and has no claws and fangs, she would really love it if the nice bear would just believe her.
Sometimes the mean bears come. They're the ones who know they're money. They're going for the kill... Sometimes they're not quite even mean... they're potentially-nice bears who are poking at the bunny.
This is Mr. McNiceBear's time to shine. If he's been paying attention to the bear-bunny dynamic, he can step in and tell the mean bears to lay off. He can tell the potentially-nice-batting-bunnies-around-bears to lay off. He could explain to the other bears, whether nice or mean or in-between, that the bunnies don't have claws and fangs.
But all too often, Mr. McNiceBear doesn't know what's going on, because he hasn't been listening to the bunnies. He doesn't see all the claws and fangs swinging about, like the bunny does. And all too often, Mr. McNiceBear wants to impress the other bears.
So he stays silent.
Some of the bunnies are sick of it, and they talk amongst themselves and try to make changes, and all the bears, even the nice ones, fight them tooth and nail. Yet in spite of this, over time, the bunnies finally manage to make a few things better. They got some rules passed a while back to force bears to be more careful while walking on trails, and they bring about some awareness of non-consensual bunny killings.
And the bears say to the bunnies, even the nice bears, say, "You got what you wanted. You should have claws and fangs now. You can finally stop complaining."
And the bunnies look at their paws and think, "No... no, these are still just glorified toenails." Things have changed, but they have only changed a little bit.
If it's not clear, the bears represent men, and the bunnies are women.
Privilege is naturally ignorant of itself. It's only human, to take for granted all the cool things we have. We take it so for granted, that we assume everyone has the same things we have. And if they don't have it, it must be their fault. Or they must be lying. Or overreacting. We fear that to accept our own privilege is to accept some kind of guilt. No one wants to be a bad person.
Privileged people aren't evil. I have plenty of privileges as a woman that, say, a black man does not. It doesn't make me a bad person. I was born this way, into a system I did not consent to. No amount of guilt or gnashing of my teeth will change that. But I do have power over one thing in this screwed up world: I do not have to remain ignorant of that privilege. I do not have to deny it. To do so means I continue to unintentionally harm to fellow human beings.
There are certainly men who know they are privileged over women and they use it as a weapon. But most men do not know they are privileged. They are nice men, good people. Or they try to be. But now and then, they accidentally hurt women without knowing why.
A nice man in this position may get defensive. It is understandable, if he can't see the privilege he has. It feels to him as if he is being attacked for no reason. He doesn't think he's a bad person, but suddenly, here is someone who seems to be saying he is a bad person.
But really, the woman isn't saying he's bad. Just that he needs to notice some of the advantages she doesn't have, and that he needs to be more careful. His continual missteps are very painful, and his denial of the female experience is even worse.
Like most men, he doesn't mean to harm women. But he does. He is so money, and he doesn't even know it.
There is a third kind of man. A rare kind of man that I appreciate so much. He is aware of his privilege and is willing to pay real attention to the experiences of women and acknowledge that it is quite different from that of men. He realizes that women are experts on women, and that if he really wants to what women are so upset about, maybe he can go to the experts and learn.
He's learned many of the ways that women get trampled, oppressed, abused, bullied, belittled, gaslit, demeaned, paid unfairly, harassed, and ignored. He has empathized. He's on our side, not just in intention, but in action.
These men sometimes still make mistakes. And the women around them appreciate that they acknowledge their mistakes rather than deny them. We appreciate that they defend us to other men who are ignorant, and especially to the men who are just plain mean.
That's what most feminists really want. We want the well-intentioned men to stop getting so defensive. We will think more highly of you if you learn how to stop trampling on bunnies by accident. And when you do misstep, to just say, "I'm sorry," and "Please help me understand why that was painful."
You're like a big bear, man. We know you're a nice bear. Just watch how you're using those claws.
Please set aside all nuances of sexism that may or may not be in this scene or in my extrapolation. Do not be distracted by my overuse of the term "bunny". Because that's not the point. As Dr. Horrible said, "It's not a perfect analogy."
All men are money. All men are big bears with claws and fangs. Some of them are batting bunnies around not knowing how to kill them, or even if they should. Some are gently frolicking alongside the bunnies, having a great time. Some are working with the bunnies, finding common causes, building upon each other's strengths and weaknesses to accomplish big-forest-things. (Stay with me here.)
A few bad bears know perfectly well that they have those claws and they go for the kill every time.
Bears have strengths that bunnies clearly do not. Bunnies are small and weak and their claws are more like long toenails and their teeth are good for eating vegetables.
The bear is privileged. The bunny is not. Whether the bear knows it or not does not change the fact that the bear is massive and strong and has claws and fangs. Even nice bears still have those claws and fangs, and no matter how nice they are, they will not turn into a bunny. If the bunny says to the bear, "My, what big fangs you have," she is not actually saying, "You're a stupid jerk evil bear who wants to kill me." She is merely pointing out something the bear has that she does not.
In real life, most bears are actually more interested in eating berries than bunnies. (The Black Bear here in Washington State is 85% vegetarian.) So let's lie with statistics, and assume in this corny analogy that 85% of bears aren't at all interested in bunny-flesh. 15% of the bears will, like Mikey the Swinger in the above clip, learn to use those claws and fangs to intentionally kill every bunny they see.
And then it happens -- he steps on a bunny.
And the bunny is squealing like a banshee and in pain and bleeding from huge claw marks all down her side.
Mr. McNiceBear says, "What's the matter? I didn't do anything. You should have gotten out of my way. That doesn't hurt. Stop whining."
The bear is so money, and he doesn't even know it.
It's not the bear's fault that he has claws and fangs. It's just how things are. Only the most Radical Anti-Bear Bunnies blame the bear for being who he is. Nevertheless, it is dangerous to be a bunny in a bear world, so the bunnies keep trying to explain. They would really appreciate it if the nice bears would try to be more careful. They only want the nice bears to realize just how money they really are.
When Mr. McNiceBear accidentally steps on a bunny, instead of blaming the bunny, she wants him to apologize and ask if she's okay. If the bear is confused, which is understandable, she wants him to ask, politely, for details. She wants a chance to explain why the trampling hurt and where he should avoid stepping next time.
And when the bunny points out she is tiny and has no claws and fangs, she would really love it if the nice bear would just believe her.
Sometimes the mean bears come. They're the ones who know they're money. They're going for the kill... Sometimes they're not quite even mean... they're potentially-nice bears who are poking at the bunny.
This is Mr. McNiceBear's time to shine. If he's been paying attention to the bear-bunny dynamic, he can step in and tell the mean bears to lay off. He can tell the potentially-nice-batting-bunnies-around-bears to lay off. He could explain to the other bears, whether nice or mean or in-between, that the bunnies don't have claws and fangs.
But all too often, Mr. McNiceBear doesn't know what's going on, because he hasn't been listening to the bunnies. He doesn't see all the claws and fangs swinging about, like the bunny does. And all too often, Mr. McNiceBear wants to impress the other bears.
So he stays silent.
Some of the bunnies are sick of it, and they talk amongst themselves and try to make changes, and all the bears, even the nice ones, fight them tooth and nail. Yet in spite of this, over time, the bunnies finally manage to make a few things better. They got some rules passed a while back to force bears to be more careful while walking on trails, and they bring about some awareness of non-consensual bunny killings.
And the bears say to the bunnies, even the nice bears, say, "You got what you wanted. You should have claws and fangs now. You can finally stop complaining."
And the bunnies look at their paws and think, "No... no, these are still just glorified toenails." Things have changed, but they have only changed a little bit.
If it's not clear, the bears represent men, and the bunnies are women.
Privilege is naturally ignorant of itself. It's only human, to take for granted all the cool things we have. We take it so for granted, that we assume everyone has the same things we have. And if they don't have it, it must be their fault. Or they must be lying. Or overreacting. We fear that to accept our own privilege is to accept some kind of guilt. No one wants to be a bad person.
Privileged people aren't evil. I have plenty of privileges as a woman that, say, a black man does not. It doesn't make me a bad person. I was born this way, into a system I did not consent to. No amount of guilt or gnashing of my teeth will change that. But I do have power over one thing in this screwed up world: I do not have to remain ignorant of that privilege. I do not have to deny it. To do so means I continue to unintentionally harm to fellow human beings.
There are certainly men who know they are privileged over women and they use it as a weapon. But most men do not know they are privileged. They are nice men, good people. Or they try to be. But now and then, they accidentally hurt women without knowing why.
A nice man in this position may get defensive. It is understandable, if he can't see the privilege he has. It feels to him as if he is being attacked for no reason. He doesn't think he's a bad person, but suddenly, here is someone who seems to be saying he is a bad person.
But really, the woman isn't saying he's bad. Just that he needs to notice some of the advantages she doesn't have, and that he needs to be more careful. His continual missteps are very painful, and his denial of the female experience is even worse.
Like most men, he doesn't mean to harm women. But he does. He is so money, and he doesn't even know it.
There is a third kind of man. A rare kind of man that I appreciate so much. He is aware of his privilege and is willing to pay real attention to the experiences of women and acknowledge that it is quite different from that of men. He realizes that women are experts on women, and that if he really wants to what women are so upset about, maybe he can go to the experts and learn.
He's learned many of the ways that women get trampled, oppressed, abused, bullied, belittled, gaslit, demeaned, paid unfairly, harassed, and ignored. He has empathized. He's on our side, not just in intention, but in action.
These men sometimes still make mistakes. And the women around them appreciate that they acknowledge their mistakes rather than deny them. We appreciate that they defend us to other men who are ignorant, and especially to the men who are just plain mean.
That's what most feminists really want. We want the well-intentioned men to stop getting so defensive. We will think more highly of you if you learn how to stop trampling on bunnies by accident. And when you do misstep, to just say, "I'm sorry," and "Please help me understand why that was painful."
You're like a big bear, man. We know you're a nice bear. Just watch how you're using those claws.
July 13, 2012
Hacker Revelations (photo)
Defcon 17, 2009, Las Vegas, NV Not sure if this was hacked by the Defcon attendees, or if someone just ordered a hat.
July 9, 2012
Savages: Box Office Representation of a Poly Triad
Rarely does a movie come along that represents polyamory in any way, much less a summer blockbuster. Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid had hints -- while not expressly stating that Butch and Sundance were both in a relationship with Etta, the montage scene left me with that feeling.
The movie obviously left some directors with the same feeling. It seems like most poly triads on screen have a Butch Cassidy flavor. From our very small sampling of only two films, we always see two bonded males, who happen to be lovable criminals, in an equal "V" relationship with one girl. Bandits from 2001 is about two bank robbers who [Spoiler!!] both end up loving the same unhappy housewife -- without the jealous love triangle where she must choose between them.
And this year, we have Oliver Stone's crime thriller, Savages, which begins with a V relationship between O and her two pot-growing criminal lovers, Ben and Chon. As we know from the trailer, two men love the same woman. The poly relationship itself is not part of the plot conflict. We are not meant to question their love for one another. We are not meant to feel tension between them. We are meant to accept that these two men love O, and that she loves them back in equal measure.
The relationship is displayed expertly. Blake Lively, who plays O, did remarkable acting, showing what it is like to belong to two lovers, almost as if she's lived the life. I have experienced what she portrayed. The subtle way you consciously try to spread attention evenly when both are in the room; to divide touches and glances and smiles. Enjoying the different energies between both people.
One lover, Chon, is strong, emotionally closed-off, a war hero, a tough guy, a protector. The other is a brilliant botanist, a lover, a tender and spiritual man who travels the world to help people. Together, as O says, they make one complete man. To paraphrase her, they fill different needs in her life, one just as important as the other. O has quite a number of lines reflecting on what it is like to love two men, and it is this kind of love poetry that I, as a poly person, enjoyed finally seeing represented on screen.
Nothing proves a vacuum more than when that vacuum is suddenly filled in with something. In this case, it was the feeling of sitting in the theater watching a representation of my relationship unfold. Savages is the first mainstream film to display a fully-realized poly triad. I wanted to compare it to Bound, a 1996 crime thriller featuring two lesbians, but that was more of a niche film, not exposed to the masses. It is more like polyamory's Brokeback Mountain, though Savages is not a romance... Brokeback brought a gay relationship into mainstream film, which helped straight audiences become more comfortable with the idea that men could love one another, too. It allowed viewers to sympathize with gay men, even though they were not gay themselves. Savages does the same for polyamory. Two men can love one woman (or in my case, one woman can love a man and a woman), and anyone who has seen Savages will not find that notion so strange anymore.
Nevertheless, some critics are incredulous. Joshua Rothkopf of Timeout New York says sharing a woman is "unrealistic". Jesse Cataldo of Slant Magazine says the relationship is uncompelling, though that may be a reference to the acting or writing, not the situation itself.
Rene Rodriguez of the Miami Herald has the worst to say:
As a thriller, it's entertaining. It certainly isn't Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels (my favorite crime movie), but it definitely holds its own. It was well-acted by most players.
O's character suffered from some poor character development that I blame the writers for. I found myself sympathizing with her vicariously but not directly. I sympathized for her because I sympathized with her lovers. I would have liked to have cared more about O, which could have easily been done by giving her some individual hopes and dreams, or let her make a couple of choices to define her character.
The story held together and drew me in. These days I'm analyzing every movie for story elements, and Savages did a great job of all the technical aspects, like foreshadowing, dialog, exposition, backstory, and character development (with the exception of O).
Certain moments were exceptionally violent and gory. Nothing worse than what you'd expect for this genre, especially if you've seen anything by Quentin Tarantino.
If you like crime movies, see this film. If you're poly, see this film. If you're monogamous, but want to see a realistic portrayal of a committed poly triad, see this film.
The movie obviously left some directors with the same feeling. It seems like most poly triads on screen have a Butch Cassidy flavor. From our very small sampling of only two films, we always see two bonded males, who happen to be lovable criminals, in an equal "V" relationship with one girl. Bandits from 2001 is about two bank robbers who [Spoiler!!] both end up loving the same unhappy housewife -- without the jealous love triangle where she must choose between them.
And this year, we have Oliver Stone's crime thriller, Savages, which begins with a V relationship between O and her two pot-growing criminal lovers, Ben and Chon. As we know from the trailer, two men love the same woman. The poly relationship itself is not part of the plot conflict. We are not meant to question their love for one another. We are not meant to feel tension between them. We are meant to accept that these two men love O, and that she loves them back in equal measure.
The relationship is displayed expertly. Blake Lively, who plays O, did remarkable acting, showing what it is like to belong to two lovers, almost as if she's lived the life. I have experienced what she portrayed. The subtle way you consciously try to spread attention evenly when both are in the room; to divide touches and glances and smiles. Enjoying the different energies between both people.
One lover, Chon, is strong, emotionally closed-off, a war hero, a tough guy, a protector. The other is a brilliant botanist, a lover, a tender and spiritual man who travels the world to help people. Together, as O says, they make one complete man. To paraphrase her, they fill different needs in her life, one just as important as the other. O has quite a number of lines reflecting on what it is like to love two men, and it is this kind of love poetry that I, as a poly person, enjoyed finally seeing represented on screen.
Nothing proves a vacuum more than when that vacuum is suddenly filled in with something. In this case, it was the feeling of sitting in the theater watching a representation of my relationship unfold. Savages is the first mainstream film to display a fully-realized poly triad. I wanted to compare it to Bound, a 1996 crime thriller featuring two lesbians, but that was more of a niche film, not exposed to the masses. It is more like polyamory's Brokeback Mountain, though Savages is not a romance... Brokeback brought a gay relationship into mainstream film, which helped straight audiences become more comfortable with the idea that men could love one another, too. It allowed viewers to sympathize with gay men, even though they were not gay themselves. Savages does the same for polyamory. Two men can love one woman (or in my case, one woman can love a man and a woman), and anyone who has seen Savages will not find that notion so strange anymore.
Nevertheless, some critics are incredulous. Joshua Rothkopf of Timeout New York says sharing a woman is "unrealistic". Jesse Cataldo of Slant Magazine says the relationship is uncompelling, though that may be a reference to the acting or writing, not the situation itself.
Rene Rodriguez of the Miami Herald has the worst to say:
Those early scenes also introduce one of Savages’ more preposterous conceits: The lovely, bird-brained Ophelia (Blake Lively), who prefers to go by “O” and lives in carnal communion with the two guys, letting them take turns with her in the sack, and sometimes just sharing her bed with both of them at the same time. Even for an Oliver Stone movie, the scenario is an awful lot to swallow. What kind of woman would ever agree to this? What two heterosexual men, no matter how close, would be comfortable with this arrangement? But you go with it, at least initially, because the entire plot hinges on their harmonious three-way union, a bromance with a woman thrown in for sexual release.I'm that kind of woman, thank you very much. And I take umbrage that O is only thrown in for sexual release. Can't women make our own choices without it being about pleasing men?
As a thriller, it's entertaining. It certainly isn't Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels (my favorite crime movie), but it definitely holds its own. It was well-acted by most players.
O's character suffered from some poor character development that I blame the writers for. I found myself sympathizing with her vicariously but not directly. I sympathized for her because I sympathized with her lovers. I would have liked to have cared more about O, which could have easily been done by giving her some individual hopes and dreams, or let her make a couple of choices to define her character.
The story held together and drew me in. These days I'm analyzing every movie for story elements, and Savages did a great job of all the technical aspects, like foreshadowing, dialog, exposition, backstory, and character development (with the exception of O).
Certain moments were exceptionally violent and gory. Nothing worse than what you'd expect for this genre, especially if you've seen anything by Quentin Tarantino.
If you like crime movies, see this film. If you're poly, see this film. If you're monogamous, but want to see a realistic portrayal of a committed poly triad, see this film.
July 6, 2012
Handecapitation (photo)
Location UnknownHandecapitation. Headless, semi-ambulant people only!
June 29, 2012
Hippie Cereal (photo)
Trader Joe's, Seattle, WAYou can't necessarily tell from this photo, but yes, those twigs are actually green.
June 22, 2012
Blackboard from Night Kitchen (photo)
Night Kitchen Bathroom, Seattle, WAThis blackboard used to be in the Night Kitchen, in the bathroom. Now the Night Kitchen is no more, but this photo lives on.
June 20, 2012
Where Have All the Batteries Gone (Song)
Where Have All the Batteries Gone
to the tune of "Where Have All the Flowers Gone"
by Luna Lindsey
Where have all the batt'ries gone, long time passing?
Where have all the batt'ries gone, long time ago?
Where have all the batt'ries gone? Gone to robots every one.
When will they ever learn?
When will they ever learn?
Where have all the robots gone, long time passing?
Where have all the robots gone, long time ago?
Where have all the robots gone? Gone to mine ast'roids, every one.
When will they ever learn?
When will they ever learn?
Where have all the ast'roids gone, long time passing?
Where have all the ast'roids gone, long time ago?
Where have all the ast'roids gone? Mined to lith'ium, every one.
When will they ever learn?
When will they ever learn?
Where has all the lith'ium gone, long time passing?
Where has all the lith'ium gone, long time ago?
Where has all the lith'ium gone? Gone to batt'ries, every one...
When will they ever learn?
When will they ever learn?
to the tune of "Where Have All the Flowers Gone"
by Luna Lindsey
Where have all the batt'ries gone, long time passing?
Where have all the batt'ries gone, long time ago?
Where have all the batt'ries gone? Gone to robots every one.
When will they ever learn?
When will they ever learn?
Where have all the robots gone, long time passing?
Where have all the robots gone, long time ago?
Where have all the robots gone? Gone to mine ast'roids, every one.
When will they ever learn?
When will they ever learn?
Where have all the ast'roids gone, long time passing?
Where have all the ast'roids gone, long time ago?
Where have all the ast'roids gone? Mined to lith'ium, every one.
When will they ever learn?
When will they ever learn?
Where has all the lith'ium gone, long time passing?
Where has all the lith'ium gone, long time ago?
Where has all the lith'ium gone? Gone to batt'ries, every one...
When will they ever learn?
When will they ever learn?
June 15, 2012
Slippery (photo)
Rest Area near Cle Elum, WAYes, that's how it's supposed to work, actually.
June 14, 2012
Scarcity Mentality vs. The Abundance of Ideas
Writers get asked all the time, "Where do you get your ideas?"
To most active writers, ideas are easy. They flow faster than we have time to write them. Anyone can get ideas.
Some people seem to have a zero-sum notion of ideas, that there is a set number, and once those run out, they're all gone. This leads to lots of idea-stifling behaviors. It is a notion that proves itself. Imagine if we had a scarcity notion about muscles, that each of us has a top limit on the number of motions we can make, or pounds we can lift. We'd all sit around because we think it's healthy; meanwhile our muscles atrophy, and sure enough, after walking a few paces, we'd collapse, having "run out" of muscles.
Ridiculous, yet it is something most people believe about a muscle we call the "brain".
Like any other muscle, the Ideaceps Major gets stronger the more you flex it. The brain only likes to do work that it thinks you find useful. All ideas need are a little attention, a little appreciation. Don't judge your ideas, don't stuff them away. Just jot them down, or reflect on them for a moment and thank them for being so brilliant. Your brain will kicks in and give you more. It's that simple.
Let's look at some idea-stifling behaviors that come from zero-sum thinking:
The Unworthy
Some think good ideas only come to those magically blessed to receive them. They believe themselves unworthy for inspiration. When an idea pops into An Unworthy's head, she thinks, What a stupid idea! After such abuse, her brain naturally assumes that thinking of ideas is a useless skill, so it resorts to thinking up ideas rarely, and only on accident.
Hoarders get ideas that they think are good. In fact, they think they're such good ideas, they grow paranoid, afraid someone will steal them. So they keep them secret.
This comes from the mistaken belief that ideas are unique. Once an idea is given to one person, it is reserved forever, as if the idea gets patented right then and there, restricted from anyone else's use. No one else could possibly think of such a good idea simultaneously.
I used to be a hoarder. I've had dozens of million-dollar ideas I kept to myself. A year or two later I would see my product idea on the store shelf, or my story idea in someone else's book. eCigs? Yeah, I thought of those. I didn't know a thing about atomizers, but I imagined a delivery system of flavored nicotine that looked cool without the smoke, that would come in all colors. I even thought of the LED to simulate the ember.
Ideas are out there for the picking. Just because I think something up doesn't mean it's mine. Someone else will think of it, too.
The Perfectionist
Some hoarders keep their ideas in reserve for "someday". I'm not talking about those who have so many ideas they have to pick and choose which ones to work on -- I'm talking about people who have one or two great ideas, but wait for the day when they can get it perfect. The idea gets put away, never to be seen again.
This also stems from the zero-sum notion. This is my one perfect idea. This is my Ringworld or Snowcrash or Foundation, and it will make me rich and famous.
An idea is just a small piece of the craft. There's prose, pacing, setting, characters, plot, editing, grammar, and voice. When the idea is so perfect, the other ingredients may feel unworthy. It is tempting to put a good idea on the shelf until the perfect time, when the stars align.
Sometimes as I write, I am tempted to reject an idea for a character, or setting, or twist that otherwise fits. Why? Because it seems too perfect, to "big" for the story at hand. I may be tempted to save that idea for later. Oh, I think, That twist is far too cool to throw away on a simple scene in this novel. I should save it for a story all of its own!
But I know better. I fight this temptation. If this story inspired that idea, it belongs here. That idea has some magic to it, some energy. If I set it on the backburner for the day when I can supposedly do it justice, it will grow stale, and possibly die completely. My current project will want for lack of that energy.
Abundance
Trust. Trust that ideas will always be available. Those ideas are here for me today, and new ideas will be there for me tomorrow. As I reward my brain by giving its ideas life, so it will reward me.
There is no upper limit on the number of ideas I will have in my lifetime. Time is the real limitation, an actual zero-sum. I flex my Ideaceps Major all the time and my brain has given me notebooks full of seeds. There is no end to material I can work on, as long as I keep working. That's the hard part. That's the limited resource. Time and work.
Ideas don't make success. Success comes from the implementation and marketing of those ideas. That is much more difficult. There's a reason why eCig-makers in China are raking in the dough for my idea. Let them. I don't care. Lots of people think up the same ideas at the same time, and he who acts on it wins. That guy in China put in all the work, and I can buy an eCig and puff away. I get to use their inventions or read their stories and not have to invent or write it myself.
I've got plenty of other ideas I can act on.
To most active writers, ideas are easy. They flow faster than we have time to write them. Anyone can get ideas.
Some people seem to have a zero-sum notion of ideas, that there is a set number, and once those run out, they're all gone. This leads to lots of idea-stifling behaviors. It is a notion that proves itself. Imagine if we had a scarcity notion about muscles, that each of us has a top limit on the number of motions we can make, or pounds we can lift. We'd all sit around because we think it's healthy; meanwhile our muscles atrophy, and sure enough, after walking a few paces, we'd collapse, having "run out" of muscles.
Ridiculous, yet it is something most people believe about a muscle we call the "brain".
Like any other muscle, the Ideaceps Major gets stronger the more you flex it. The brain only likes to do work that it thinks you find useful. All ideas need are a little attention, a little appreciation. Don't judge your ideas, don't stuff them away. Just jot them down, or reflect on them for a moment and thank them for being so brilliant. Your brain will kicks in and give you more. It's that simple.
Let's look at some idea-stifling behaviors that come from zero-sum thinking:
The Unworthy
Some think good ideas only come to those magically blessed to receive them. They believe themselves unworthy for inspiration. When an idea pops into An Unworthy's head, she thinks, What a stupid idea! After such abuse, her brain naturally assumes that thinking of ideas is a useless skill, so it resorts to thinking up ideas rarely, and only on accident.
Hoarders get ideas that they think are good. In fact, they think they're such good ideas, they grow paranoid, afraid someone will steal them. So they keep them secret.
This comes from the mistaken belief that ideas are unique. Once an idea is given to one person, it is reserved forever, as if the idea gets patented right then and there, restricted from anyone else's use. No one else could possibly think of such a good idea simultaneously.
I used to be a hoarder. I've had dozens of million-dollar ideas I kept to myself. A year or two later I would see my product idea on the store shelf, or my story idea in someone else's book. eCigs? Yeah, I thought of those. I didn't know a thing about atomizers, but I imagined a delivery system of flavored nicotine that looked cool without the smoke, that would come in all colors. I even thought of the LED to simulate the ember.
Ideas are out there for the picking. Just because I think something up doesn't mean it's mine. Someone else will think of it, too.
The Perfectionist
Some hoarders keep their ideas in reserve for "someday". I'm not talking about those who have so many ideas they have to pick and choose which ones to work on -- I'm talking about people who have one or two great ideas, but wait for the day when they can get it perfect. The idea gets put away, never to be seen again.
This also stems from the zero-sum notion. This is my one perfect idea. This is my Ringworld or Snowcrash or Foundation, and it will make me rich and famous.
An idea is just a small piece of the craft. There's prose, pacing, setting, characters, plot, editing, grammar, and voice. When the idea is so perfect, the other ingredients may feel unworthy. It is tempting to put a good idea on the shelf until the perfect time, when the stars align.
Sometimes as I write, I am tempted to reject an idea for a character, or setting, or twist that otherwise fits. Why? Because it seems too perfect, to "big" for the story at hand. I may be tempted to save that idea for later. Oh, I think, That twist is far too cool to throw away on a simple scene in this novel. I should save it for a story all of its own!
But I know better. I fight this temptation. If this story inspired that idea, it belongs here. That idea has some magic to it, some energy. If I set it on the backburner for the day when I can supposedly do it justice, it will grow stale, and possibly die completely. My current project will want for lack of that energy.
Abundance
Trust. Trust that ideas will always be available. Those ideas are here for me today, and new ideas will be there for me tomorrow. As I reward my brain by giving its ideas life, so it will reward me.
There is no upper limit on the number of ideas I will have in my lifetime. Time is the real limitation, an actual zero-sum. I flex my Ideaceps Major all the time and my brain has given me notebooks full of seeds. There is no end to material I can work on, as long as I keep working. That's the hard part. That's the limited resource. Time and work.
Ideas don't make success. Success comes from the implementation and marketing of those ideas. That is much more difficult. There's a reason why eCig-makers in China are raking in the dough for my idea. Let them. I don't care. Lots of people think up the same ideas at the same time, and he who acts on it wins. That guy in China put in all the work, and I can buy an eCig and puff away. I get to use their inventions or read their stories and not have to invent or write it myself.
I've got plenty of other ideas I can act on.
