Russ Colchamiro's Blog, page 14
November 16, 2011
Subway Stories: The Pick and Wipe
OK, so … I’m on the subway heading to work. It’s about 7:30 a.m., and I’m reading the newspaper, just minding my own business. We make a stop, the doors open, which draws my attention.
In the corner there, is a guy, sitting by himself. He’s maybe 25 or so, in jeans a t-shirt and sandals.
And he’s digging.
Yep, he’s a picker.
I’m not saying he should be up to his elbow in a public place, but to quote Seinfeld:
“An’ what if I did do it? Even though I admit to nothing, and never will. What does that make me? And I’m not here just defending myself but all those pickers out there who’ve been caught. Each an’ every one of them, who has to suffer the shame and humiliation …”
Yet my judgment of Mr. Pick isn’t that he did the picking, per se. It’s what he did after the pick.
I don’t know if on that finger he had a nugget, some goo or just general crusties. But I do know that he reached over by his leg, and, presumably thinking he was being sly, wiped his whole hand over the plank next to his seat.
I mean he just smeared it all over.
And then he did it again!
To quote George Costanza in that same episode:
“I guarantee you that Moses was a picker. You wander through the desert for forty years with that dry air. … You telling me you’re not going to have occasion to clean house a little bit.”
The picking, while nasty, is, I suppose, forgivable.
But the wipe?
Hell no.
I just hope the MTA calls in a HAZMAT team to hose down that subway car before anyone else gets back on it.
In the corner there, is a guy, sitting by himself. He’s maybe 25 or so, in jeans a t-shirt and sandals.
And he’s digging.
Yep, he’s a picker.
I’m not saying he should be up to his elbow in a public place, but to quote Seinfeld:
“An’ what if I did do it? Even though I admit to nothing, and never will. What does that make me? And I’m not here just defending myself but all those pickers out there who’ve been caught. Each an’ every one of them, who has to suffer the shame and humiliation …”
Yet my judgment of Mr. Pick isn’t that he did the picking, per se. It’s what he did after the pick.
I don’t know if on that finger he had a nugget, some goo or just general crusties. But I do know that he reached over by his leg, and, presumably thinking he was being sly, wiped his whole hand over the plank next to his seat.
I mean he just smeared it all over.
And then he did it again!
To quote George Costanza in that same episode:
“I guarantee you that Moses was a picker. You wander through the desert for forty years with that dry air. … You telling me you’re not going to have occasion to clean house a little bit.”
The picking, while nasty, is, I suppose, forgivable.
But the wipe?
Hell no.
I just hope the MTA calls in a HAZMAT team to hose down that subway car before anyone else gets back on it.
The Art of Selfishness
In THE ART OF SELFISHNESS, author David Seabury talks, fundamentally, about the difference between what we’ll call productive selfishness and destructive selfishness. And after reading his book, and talking about with some folks about it, I believe that understanding those differences–and then acting accordingly–can have a remarkable positive impact on ours lives.
Productive Selfishness: Let’s say a friend asks you to help him move. He’s a pretty good friend, and you really want to help him out. You’re not necessarily excited about moving furniture, but you figure it’s the kind of thing your friend would do for you if the situations were reversed.
But truth is, you’re physically tired from a long couple of weeks at work. You’ve been feeling pretty run down lately and it’s been getting worse, and you just need a weekend to yourself to recuperate. You also feel that if you exert yourself now, you may take a legitimate turn for the worse. So you tell your friend that you won’t be able to help him move.
And then he guilts you. “Come on, dude. Help me out. You know I’d totally help you. It’ll only take a few hours. Otherwise I’ll be at this all day by myself or it’ll cost me a fortune to hire movers.”
So what should you do? The answer is, it depends. But I think Seabury would argue that while you might feel on some level that helping your friend is a good thing to do–that you’re being a good friend–if it compromises your well-being or your values to a degree that would be more harmful to you than it would be helpful to your friend, then you should say no, even if your friend gives you grief about it. This is an example of productive selfishness.
Of course, every situation is different; there’s no one size fits all. We need to consider all factors and then make the best decision we can.
But I think that we have been conditioned over the generations to often let guilt dictate our actions, and to worry about what other people will think about us. Far too often we put what other people want ahead of what’s best for us. We compromise our values, thinking that we’re doing so for a good reason. And sometimes making a sacrifice is the right thing to do. It can be difficult to know what the best decision is. But I think it’s extremely important that we understand–and legitimately believe–that saying no is an absolutely acceptable option. Knowing when to say no is the tricky part.
It’s something I’ve struggled with for many, many years, especially when I was younger. I’ve gotten a far better handle on it now, but it can still be a tough one for me. And being a dad now, I can only image what’s coming.
Destructive Selfishness: Here’s a true story. When I was in college my fraternity (don’t judge) had a spaghetti lunch one weekend. We held it at my apartment. Basically, we just made mounds of pasta and had a meal together. To accompany our pasta, we also bought a couple of bags of garlic bread that you heat up in the broiler. Naturally, everybody wanted a piece, and there was only so much to go around.
One guy who, we’ll call Fred, was first in line in the kitchen (sort of no surprise there). So I served him up a plate of spaghetti, and put a piece of garlic bread on his plate. And then he grabbed another one. When I told him that it was only one to a customer, he got aggressive with me. I told him to put one piece back. We argued. Finally, he walked away with only piece.
Had there been far more bread than people, I wouldn’t have cared that he took another piece of bread. But he knew there was only enough bread for each person to get one piece. He knew that, and tried to take a second piece anyway.
Nothing good came from Fred’s selfishness here. Had he taken two pieces, then someone else wouldn’t have gotten any. And even though he ultimately put the second piece back, his selfishness, and then his subsequent attempts to justify his selfishness, added stress to what was supposed to be a fun day, and also demonstrated that he was far more interested in what he wanted than in being equitable. Beyond that, trying to scam a second piece of garlic bread is just so petty that it inherently lowers the quality of the experience on its face.
This is destructive selfishness. Fred thought only of himself–and acted accordingly–in a way that was harmful to others, and, really, to himself.
Overall, I’d say I’ve done a fairly good job over the years of descerning when and where to be productive selfishness, but life has a funny way of reminding me that I’ll be tested every day on this one, and that the moment I think I’ve got it licked is the day I’ll get it wrong.
(note: the original version of this blog ran January 23, 2007).
Productive Selfishness: Let’s say a friend asks you to help him move. He’s a pretty good friend, and you really want to help him out. You’re not necessarily excited about moving furniture, but you figure it’s the kind of thing your friend would do for you if the situations were reversed.
But truth is, you’re physically tired from a long couple of weeks at work. You’ve been feeling pretty run down lately and it’s been getting worse, and you just need a weekend to yourself to recuperate. You also feel that if you exert yourself now, you may take a legitimate turn for the worse. So you tell your friend that you won’t be able to help him move.
And then he guilts you. “Come on, dude. Help me out. You know I’d totally help you. It’ll only take a few hours. Otherwise I’ll be at this all day by myself or it’ll cost me a fortune to hire movers.”
So what should you do? The answer is, it depends. But I think Seabury would argue that while you might feel on some level that helping your friend is a good thing to do–that you’re being a good friend–if it compromises your well-being or your values to a degree that would be more harmful to you than it would be helpful to your friend, then you should say no, even if your friend gives you grief about it. This is an example of productive selfishness.
Of course, every situation is different; there’s no one size fits all. We need to consider all factors and then make the best decision we can.
But I think that we have been conditioned over the generations to often let guilt dictate our actions, and to worry about what other people will think about us. Far too often we put what other people want ahead of what’s best for us. We compromise our values, thinking that we’re doing so for a good reason. And sometimes making a sacrifice is the right thing to do. It can be difficult to know what the best decision is. But I think it’s extremely important that we understand–and legitimately believe–that saying no is an absolutely acceptable option. Knowing when to say no is the tricky part.
It’s something I’ve struggled with for many, many years, especially when I was younger. I’ve gotten a far better handle on it now, but it can still be a tough one for me. And being a dad now, I can only image what’s coming.
Destructive Selfishness: Here’s a true story. When I was in college my fraternity (don’t judge) had a spaghetti lunch one weekend. We held it at my apartment. Basically, we just made mounds of pasta and had a meal together. To accompany our pasta, we also bought a couple of bags of garlic bread that you heat up in the broiler. Naturally, everybody wanted a piece, and there was only so much to go around.
One guy who, we’ll call Fred, was first in line in the kitchen (sort of no surprise there). So I served him up a plate of spaghetti, and put a piece of garlic bread on his plate. And then he grabbed another one. When I told him that it was only one to a customer, he got aggressive with me. I told him to put one piece back. We argued. Finally, he walked away with only piece.
Had there been far more bread than people, I wouldn’t have cared that he took another piece of bread. But he knew there was only enough bread for each person to get one piece. He knew that, and tried to take a second piece anyway.
Nothing good came from Fred’s selfishness here. Had he taken two pieces, then someone else wouldn’t have gotten any. And even though he ultimately put the second piece back, his selfishness, and then his subsequent attempts to justify his selfishness, added stress to what was supposed to be a fun day, and also demonstrated that he was far more interested in what he wanted than in being equitable. Beyond that, trying to scam a second piece of garlic bread is just so petty that it inherently lowers the quality of the experience on its face.
This is destructive selfishness. Fred thought only of himself–and acted accordingly–in a way that was harmful to others, and, really, to himself.
Overall, I’d say I’ve done a fairly good job over the years of descerning when and where to be productive selfishness, but life has a funny way of reminding me that I’ll be tested every day on this one, and that the moment I think I’ve got it licked is the day I’ll get it wrong.
(note: the original version of this blog ran January 23, 2007).
The Art of Selfishness
In THE ART OF SELFISHNESS, author David Seabury talks, fundamentally, about the difference between what we'll call productive selfishness and destructive selfishness. And after reading his book, and talking about with some folks about it, I believe that understanding those differences–and then acting accordingly–can have a remarkable positive impact on ours lives. Productive Selfishness: Let's [...]
November 10, 2011
Russ' Review: The Good Wife – Season 2
Coming off an inconsistent — and in my opinion — overrated season 1, I was still mildly optimistic heading into the sophomore season of The Good Wife. With the wrap of season 2, I can now call myself a convert. The show is still prone to some goofy and unnecessary plotting, but season 2 was [...]
November 6, 2011
Douglas Adams, Christopher Moore and … Russ Colchamiro?
I'm always appreciative of kind words about Finders Keepers or my writing in general. In that spirit I'd like to share this intro, from book reviewer Jaime Chambers of Ruled By Books, who had these very kind words for me during our interview, comparing me to two of the best — and best selling — [...]
Douglas Adams, Christopher Moore and ... Russ Colchamiro?
I am always appreciative of kind words about Finders Keepers or my writing in general. In that spirit I'd like to share this intro from book reviewer Jaime Chambers of Ruled By Books, who had these very kind words for me:
I cannot believe that I read and reviewed Finders Keepers by Russ Colchamiro all the way back in June. I still find myself telling friends with a bent sense of humor about this book that had me laughing heartily. It was a well written first novel that, I have to admit, surprised me. Comedy writing in any form is hard to do well. The intangible stuff that makes people laugh can be hard to grasp and even harder to deliver. There are only a handful of comedic authors that I enjoy, tops among them being Douglas Adams and Christopher Moore. After reading Finders Keepers, I was happy to add Russ Colchamiro to that list.
Click the link below to read the full interview:
http://www.ruledbybooks.com/author-in...
I cannot believe that I read and reviewed Finders Keepers by Russ Colchamiro all the way back in June. I still find myself telling friends with a bent sense of humor about this book that had me laughing heartily. It was a well written first novel that, I have to admit, surprised me. Comedy writing in any form is hard to do well. The intangible stuff that makes people laugh can be hard to grasp and even harder to deliver. There are only a handful of comedic authors that I enjoy, tops among them being Douglas Adams and Christopher Moore. After reading Finders Keepers, I was happy to add Russ Colchamiro to that list.
Click the link below to read the full interview:
http://www.ruledbybooks.com/author-in...
November 5, 2011
Author Interview with Russ Colchamiro … with a Zombie Twist
Ruled By Books reviewer Jaime Chambers interviewed me about my novel Finders Keepers, advice for new writers, and thoughts on my latest project, Crossline. Plus … final thoughts on what I'd read if I had time to kill on my way to becoming a zombie. Here's the link: http://www.ruledbybooks.com/author-in...
Author Interview with Russ Colchamiro
Ruled By Books reviewer Jaime Chambers interviewed me about my novel Finders Keepers, advice for new writers, and what I'm up to next.
Plus ... final thoughts on what I'd read if I had time to kill on my way to becoming a zombie.
Here's the link:
http://www.ruledbybooks.com/author-in...
Plus ... final thoughts on what I'd read if I had time to kill on my way to becoming a zombie.
Here's the link:
http://www.ruledbybooks.com/author-in...
October 29, 2011
My Pavlovian Batman Response
One day after school, I was only in pre-K at the time, and I was on my way home on the bus. The day was slightly overcast, but I didn't care. I only had one thing on my mind: get back in time to watch my favorite show. Do you remember the theme song? Denna-nenna [...]
September 24, 2011
The "Rules" of Modern-World Sci-Fi
My novel Finders Keepers is a genre I like to call "cosmic lunacy," where I mix the "real world" of today and fantasical/sci-elements.
To discuss the "rules" of how to meld these two worlds, fellow sci-fi writer Cathryn Isakson asked me to contribute to her web site. Here's my two cents …
http://novelexpectations.wordpress.co...
The ‘rules’ of modern-world sci-fi: A guest blog by Russ Colchamiro
The cover for Russ’s book, Finders Today I have a guest blog by US science fiction author, Russ Colchamiro. Russ’s first novel is titled Finders Keepers. Here Russ explains how he blended the elements of this hybrid genre story: science fiction, humour, mystery and ‘cosmic lunacy’.
The ‘Rules’ of Modern-World Sci-Fi
by Russ Colchamiro
Mixing science fiction/fantasy elements with the modern world is a dance indeed. It was for me.
My first novel, Finders Keepers, is loosely based on backpacking trips I took through Europe and New Zealand, set against a quest for a jar that contains the Universe’s DNA.
You know … a quiet family drama!
My goal was to write a multi-layered novel that felt epic in scale, yet was simultaneously intimate, while remaining fun and funny throughout. But not long into the writing process, I realized that I had a big issue to reconcile:
How do I combine the ‘cosmic lunacy’, as I like to call it, with the everyday world that you and I know, and invite the reader to accept that this total environment is plausible?
One key element pulled the threads together.
During the early days of my first draft, I belonged to a writer’s group, as many of us do. I received all manner of feedback, but one comment stuck with me from a writer named Brad:
You need to establish the ‘rules’.
At the time, I wasn’t quite sure what Brad meant. To be honest, deep in my gut I suspected he was right. But I wasn’t yet in a confident enough place to acknowledge and accept this confrontation with a key, structural misstep in my storytelling.
During those earlier drafts, I started the action by introducing the hero of Finders Keepers — Jason Medley, a 24-year-old waiter from the NY suburbs — seeing him in the day-to-day of his humdrum life. My reasoning, as far as I was concerned, was quite sound: introduce Jason at his lowest point so that we get to see him during all the phases of his journey — from bummer to reluctant participant to hero.
Now, I really did want to establish the sci-fi tone right away — you gotta give the readers some idea of what you’re up to early on — so I started Finders Keepers with a two-paragraph prologue that hinted at the science fiction theme. This way it wouldn’t be a shock when it finally appeared.
But I saved the more complex ‘cosmic lunacy’/sci-fi elements until a bit later, as a big ‘twist’. Even though I don’t write mystery novels, per se, I like to include mystery elements. Reveal, pull back and conceal, reveal some more. My intention was to get the reader to say, ‘Whoa! Cool!’ when the sci-fi parts really kicked in.
Seemed pretty good to me. It made sense. Only, it didn’t quite work.
Finders Keepers is loosely based on backpacking trips through Europe and New Zealand, set against a quest for a jar that contains the Universe’s DNA.
The problem was that, by the time I unveiled the ‘cosmic’ portion of the story, the readers weren’t really sure what kind of book they were reading. I simply out-thought myself.
What I finally came to embrace was that it’s easier to start big — FATE OF THE UNIVERSE IS AT STAKE! — and then go small — lonely waiter dude whimpers about having no girlfriend — then to go the other way.
After many drafts, I finally gave in and established the ‘rules’ of the world I created with the very first sentence. And in the Finders Keepers world, there’s a jar that contains the Universe’s DNA, lost on modern-day Earth somewhere, and unless it’s recovered in time, the Milky Way Galaxy might go bye-bye.
Once I made this structural alteration, the narrative fell into place.
In the published version of Finders Keepers, the entire 1,457-word prologue is now ‘cosmic’. And then throughout the novel, I slip back and forth between the two major settings:
The down-and-dirty details of Jason and his New Zealand buddy Theo Barnes backpacking through Europe — train schedules, hangovers, achy backs, languages they don’t understand, food they can’t identify, girls they want to sleep with.
A host of cosmic characters that are in charge of building the Universe’s infrastructure, and are after the DNA jar. Which, of course, Jason and Theo are somehow mixed up with.
The lesson I ultimately learned was this: as long as I show the readers what they’re in for — up front, right away — they pretty much all say, ‘Okay, this is the world I’m in. Universe jar. Check. Let’s roll’.
From the very first sentence, there’s simply no doubt that Finders Keepers is meant to be a fun, sci-fi romp that brings a smile to your face.
Establishing the ‘rules’ brought it all together.
To discuss the "rules" of how to meld these two worlds, fellow sci-fi writer Cathryn Isakson asked me to contribute to her web site. Here's my two cents …
http://novelexpectations.wordpress.co...
The ‘rules’ of modern-world sci-fi: A guest blog by Russ Colchamiro
The cover for Russ’s book, Finders Today I have a guest blog by US science fiction author, Russ Colchamiro. Russ’s first novel is titled Finders Keepers. Here Russ explains how he blended the elements of this hybrid genre story: science fiction, humour, mystery and ‘cosmic lunacy’.
The ‘Rules’ of Modern-World Sci-Fi
by Russ Colchamiro
Mixing science fiction/fantasy elements with the modern world is a dance indeed. It was for me.
My first novel, Finders Keepers, is loosely based on backpacking trips I took through Europe and New Zealand, set against a quest for a jar that contains the Universe’s DNA.
You know … a quiet family drama!
My goal was to write a multi-layered novel that felt epic in scale, yet was simultaneously intimate, while remaining fun and funny throughout. But not long into the writing process, I realized that I had a big issue to reconcile:
How do I combine the ‘cosmic lunacy’, as I like to call it, with the everyday world that you and I know, and invite the reader to accept that this total environment is plausible?
One key element pulled the threads together.
During the early days of my first draft, I belonged to a writer’s group, as many of us do. I received all manner of feedback, but one comment stuck with me from a writer named Brad:
You need to establish the ‘rules’.
At the time, I wasn’t quite sure what Brad meant. To be honest, deep in my gut I suspected he was right. But I wasn’t yet in a confident enough place to acknowledge and accept this confrontation with a key, structural misstep in my storytelling.
During those earlier drafts, I started the action by introducing the hero of Finders Keepers — Jason Medley, a 24-year-old waiter from the NY suburbs — seeing him in the day-to-day of his humdrum life. My reasoning, as far as I was concerned, was quite sound: introduce Jason at his lowest point so that we get to see him during all the phases of his journey — from bummer to reluctant participant to hero.
Now, I really did want to establish the sci-fi tone right away — you gotta give the readers some idea of what you’re up to early on — so I started Finders Keepers with a two-paragraph prologue that hinted at the science fiction theme. This way it wouldn’t be a shock when it finally appeared.
But I saved the more complex ‘cosmic lunacy’/sci-fi elements until a bit later, as a big ‘twist’. Even though I don’t write mystery novels, per se, I like to include mystery elements. Reveal, pull back and conceal, reveal some more. My intention was to get the reader to say, ‘Whoa! Cool!’ when the sci-fi parts really kicked in.
Seemed pretty good to me. It made sense. Only, it didn’t quite work.
Finders Keepers is loosely based on backpacking trips through Europe and New Zealand, set against a quest for a jar that contains the Universe’s DNA.
The problem was that, by the time I unveiled the ‘cosmic’ portion of the story, the readers weren’t really sure what kind of book they were reading. I simply out-thought myself.
What I finally came to embrace was that it’s easier to start big — FATE OF THE UNIVERSE IS AT STAKE! — and then go small — lonely waiter dude whimpers about having no girlfriend — then to go the other way.
After many drafts, I finally gave in and established the ‘rules’ of the world I created with the very first sentence. And in the Finders Keepers world, there’s a jar that contains the Universe’s DNA, lost on modern-day Earth somewhere, and unless it’s recovered in time, the Milky Way Galaxy might go bye-bye.
Once I made this structural alteration, the narrative fell into place.
In the published version of Finders Keepers, the entire 1,457-word prologue is now ‘cosmic’. And then throughout the novel, I slip back and forth between the two major settings:
The down-and-dirty details of Jason and his New Zealand buddy Theo Barnes backpacking through Europe — train schedules, hangovers, achy backs, languages they don’t understand, food they can’t identify, girls they want to sleep with.
A host of cosmic characters that are in charge of building the Universe’s infrastructure, and are after the DNA jar. Which, of course, Jason and Theo are somehow mixed up with.
The lesson I ultimately learned was this: as long as I show the readers what they’re in for — up front, right away — they pretty much all say, ‘Okay, this is the world I’m in. Universe jar. Check. Let’s roll’.
From the very first sentence, there’s simply no doubt that Finders Keepers is meant to be a fun, sci-fi romp that brings a smile to your face.
Establishing the ‘rules’ brought it all together.
