Chris Baty's Blog, page 257

The Muppets Go Modern

I do not have the most discerning taste in music. I have written before of my abiding love for Disney music. I own a not-insignificant amount of music from Glee. The only concert I've been to all summer was NKOTBSB, and it was totally awesome. (I mean, in a hilariously ridiculous kind of way. If it didn't make me sound like a total hipster, I'd claim to have enjoyed it ironically, but I'm fairly sure there were moments when I was enjoying myself pretty un-ironically.)

So now that we have established my lack of credibility on the subject of music, I am going to tell you about the new album I just bought that I'm enjoying more than anything I've bought in some time. And Chris A. is going to mock me for it, because he's a snob, but I don't care. My album of 2011 is Muppets: The Green Album.

It's entirely made up of various artists doing covers of classic Muppet songs from the old Muppet Show (it pained me a little to write "old" in that sentence—I freaking loved that show as a kid and it is depressing that it's now retro) and various Muppet movies, and it is a total delight. A mix of nostalgia and modern sensibility, complete with a couple of genuinely moving numbers. Kermit the Frog is one of my favourite characters of all-time and I was unconvinced that anyone could live up to his versions of "The Rainbow Connection" and "Bein' Green," but the Andrew Bird "Bein' Green" in particular just hits the exact right tone.

Jim Henson is probably the first "celebrity" death I can remember being upset over. The Muppet Show is one of the few shows my whole family watched together, and it's so tied up with my childhood that listening to this album leaves me with a sense of both joy and melancholy, all wrapped up into one.

So I might not have much street cred when it comes to music, but if you come from the same generation as me (it actually stopped running when I was still a baby, but we watched reruns very faithfully), go give it a listen.

What music reminds you of your childhood? Do you like covers, or are you a music purist? And when did this blog turn into a childhood reminiscence blog?

– Sarah

A Summer of Nostalgia

It all started with camp. Camp NaNoWriMo, that is.

How could I direct a camp-themed event without traveling down that gravel road back to the camp of my childhood? Camp Celo, a farm camp nestled in the Appalachian Mountains, and my summer home for five years in a row.

After reminiscing about the meatless Rum Tum Diddy and the counselors serenading us campers to sleep as they wandered among the tents with guitars and lanterns in hand, my memory dog-legged on to all other camps I'd ever been to.

There was the adventurous-sounding but ill-advised Zoo Camp that was nothing more than kids sitting in a carpeted room at the Atlanta Zoo with juice boxes and string cheese, watching videos about the rainforest and the Mesozoic era.

Or Sports Camp, where I humiliated myself time and again, irrespective of the activity. Rope climbing, track, tennis, even ring toss, for pete's sake. Failures all.

And the weird, hormonally charged "outdoor adventure" camp in Pennsylvania that was meant to be the Celo replacement when I got too old to return. Instead, it was my initiation into in-crowds and out-crowds. (I was in the latter.)

But then the blog—this blog!—compounded it all, chipping away the walls of my tunnel vision toward camp and expanding my yearning for ever more nuanced and remote realms of my past.

There was my own blog post about my family's cabin in North Georgia, where berry picking and fishing filled my days, and bull frogs provided the nightly soundtrack.

Jenelle's post about letter-writing just Delorian-whisked me right back to receiving letters from my pen pal Miriam. They arrived as if by magic, beautiful delicate blue international envelopes all the way from Germany. How I missed my friend after she moved back home! How I loved the strange but beautifully formed curliques of her handwriting.

Sarah's reminiscing on preteen crushes certainly didn't help matters (and really brought home for me my all-but-complete disconnection from pop culture when I was a kidlet).

But it was Tupelo's blog post about furry fictional friends that really drove the stake of nostalgia through my already-sentimental heart. I loved nothing more than reading as a kid—especially when I was reading about animals. Starting with Go, Dog, Go! (the first book I ever read) and continuing on through my infatuation with the Redwall books, Jean Craighead George's Far Side of the Mountain, everything Gary Paulsen ever wrote, Island of the Blue Dolphins, Misty of Chincoteague, The Rats of N.I.M.H., Julie of the Wolves, White Fang, Sounder, the Tuck books, The Incredible Journey. Oh, I wanted to be a child of the wilderness, charging off with some fierce animalian sidekick that answered only to me.

As fall creeps on and NaNoWriMo takes over from Camp, I am wondering if the wide-open door to everything I loved as a littler Lindsey will start to close. It's been a summer of reminiscing, and I've relished it.

But I don't honestly know if I can sustain much more longing.

To quote from one of my all-time favorite movies, Kicking & Screaming (circa 1995), "I'm nostalgic for conversations I had yesterday. I've begun reminiscing events before they even occur. I'm reminiscing this right now."

My heart hurts from it all!

What did you love as a littler you?

– Lindsey

Boring Movies or Boring Critics?

I wish the title "Eating Your Cultural Vegetables" had attracted me based on some confusion or freshness, but the truth is the title was resonant in a nauseating way. It was resonant from having (way) too many conversations with film majors interested in participating in the creation of the next The Hangover 2.

Late this April, a writer named Dan Kois set-off a minor firestorm on the internet with his article about "Eating Your Cultural Vegetables." In it, he coins the term "aspirational viewing" where the film-goer watches something he anticipates to be boring/painful/long because they consider it to be, for some inexplicable reason, good for them. 

If I heard this at a college party, I'd smile and nod, but I wasn't alone in finding it a little hard to take from a film critic. Yes, this man is paid to watch films and write about them. (You can't make this stuff up.)

The story only got more surreal when none other than Manohla Dargis and A.O. Scott jumped on board to attack Kois' article. Dargis and Scott are fine, but they're not the most controversial (or adventuresome) critics out there. On an artsy-fartsy scale, they rank somewhere between Roger Ebert and your aunt. (Scott's top ten films of the decade include Wall-E, A.I., and Million Dollar Baby.) Everything started to make a lot more sense when I actually took a look at their printed rebuttal. It's titled "In Defense of the Slow and the Boring." To add insult to injury, the title is printed above a still from one of the best movies this year, the riveting Meek's Cutoff.

The article really only fancies itself a rebuttal. In reality, it seems to be mostly in agreement with Kois. Kois' article ultimately posited, "Some movies are really long and boring… but I know they're deep." To which Dargis and Scott replied, with cutting insight, "Yes, deep movies are boring… but… good for you." Scott goes on to observe, "Thinking is boring, of course." (Face-to-palm.) I think there's only so far you can proceed if you've already framed the films you're arguing over as boring.

In a startling void of critical thought, Kois, Dargis and Scott seem to lump every non-Hollywood film into a mysterious "art-house" amalgam. Even while Dargis praises Chantal Akerman for reclaiming a sense of duration, and of the passing of moments, he seems to concede that she must be suffered through. I can honestly say I wouldn't love Akerman as an artist if I didn't honestly enjoy her movies. I don't think it's an extreme point of view.

Reichardt is one of the most observant, engaging filmmakers we have working in America. If Wendy and Lucy is heartbreaking, Meek's Cutoff is breathtaking. Both films seem to be about the nagging suspicion that we are lost in the world, and while Wendy and Lucy creates a brutal, stirring narrative (even if it didn't depend on it), Meek's Cutoff creates an exhilarating altered state for the viewer to enter. What could be more vital and engaging? Positing that these films are somehow "boring" begs the question, "Compared to what?"

I could talk forever about all the problems with criticizing a film as "boring." Isn't boring something a viewer brings to a film, rather than an actual aesthetic property of a film? (Is this news to anyone?) What's boring to me might not be boring to Dan Kois. I am already painfully aware that the reverse is true.

But I think the real problem with this whole conversation is present in the phrase "aspirational viewing." I'm not sure we should suffer through anything because we think they're objectively "good."

In the comments: Do you watch things you don't enjoy, because you believe they're objectively… good? And if so, how do you know something is good if you're not enjoying it?

– Max

An Awesome Summer With OLL

I can't believe the summer has gone by so quickly and that my last day at OLL has come. It has been such a great experience, and I wish that I could continue through the school year, but a packed semester is ahead. Before I head out, I've got to tell you why it has been so good!

Every day I walk in to the sound of energetic voices and the site of wide smiles welcoming me to work. The office is a fun, upbeat environment, complete with a friendly, positive staff. It has been great to attend weekly meetings where everyone shares what they were working on and their goals for the week. This helped me understand more fully what the Office of Letters and Light is doing on a daily and weekly basis to make sure programs function smoothly and effectively. It also helped me learn what's in motion to make it all even more fantastic. There are even colorful charts and stickers to keep track of progress!

I've also had the opportunity to work on awesome projects, like helping Chris Angotti read through the YWP July Writing Contest submissions. With each story, I was transported to different worlds with different characters that grabbed my attention. Who could ask for a better task to complete at work? Another project I enjoyed was reading through the YWP NaNoWriMo Curriculum to brainstorm areas for improvement. I've seen how creative writing projects shape young writers in the classroom. In my experience, it often helped students gain a new perception of themselves as writers. That is what the YWP curriculum can help create, along with important state standards taught along the way. I'm pumped to incorporate the curriculum into future classrooms!

Blogging is also super fun. I've really enjoyed creating reflections on writing this summer and sharing them with all of you. I love your feedback and have learned a lot from your comments! Thanks for talking with me here this summer.

The bottom line is that it's so great to be part of such an encouraging environment where writing is valued and there is support to pursue it. Writing a poem a day for a month was certainly a challenge, but I received positive comments when I checked in at staff meetings or simply got a "Hey Jenelle, I really like the poem you posted on the blog today" from Tupelo before I walked out the door. This was my first internship outside of the classroom setting and I didn't entirely know what to expect. I'm thankful for the opportunity I've had to work on interesting projects that have helped me learn, work alongside the awesome OLL staff, and to simply be welcomed as part of the team.

Thanks for an awesome summer!

-Jenelle

An Awesome Summer with OLL

I can't believe the summer has gone by so quickly and that my last day at OLL has come. It has been such a great experience, and I wish that I could continue through the school year, but a packed semester is ahead. Before I head out, I've got to tell you why it has been so good!

Every day I walk in to the sound of energetic voices and the site of wide smiles welcoming me to work. The office is a fun, upbeat environment, complete with a friendly, positive staff. It has been great to attend weekly meetings where everyone shares what they were working on and their goals for the week. This helped me understand more fully what the Office of Letters and Light is doing on a daily and weekly basis to make sure programs function smoothly and effectively. It also helped me learn what's in motion to make it all even more fantastic. There are even colorful charts and stickers to keep track of progress!

I've also had the opportunity to work on awesome projects, like helping Chris A. read through the YWP July Writing Contest submissions. With each story, I was transported to different worlds with different characters that grabbed my attention. Who could ask for a better task to complete at work? Another project I enjoyed was reading through the YWP NaNoWriMo Curriculum to brainstorm areas for improvement. I've seen how creative writing projects shape young writers in the classroom. In my experience, it often helped students gain a new perception of themselves as writers. That is what the YWP curriculum can help create, along with important state standards taught along the way. I'm pumped to incorporate the curriculum into future classrooms!

Blogging is also super-fun. I've really enjoyed creating reflections on writing this summer and sharing them with all of you. I love your feedback and have learned a lot from your comments! Thanks for talking with me here this summer.

The bottom line is that it's so great to be part of such an encouraging environment where writing is valued and there is support to pursue it. Writing a poem a day for a month was certainly a challenge, but I received positive comments when I checked in at staff meetings or simply got a "Hey Jenelle, I really like the poem you posted on the blog today" from Tupelo before I walked out the door. This was my first internship outside of the classroom setting and I didn't entirely know what to expect. I'm thankful for the opportunity I've had to work on interesting projects that have helped me learn, work alongside the awesome OLL staff, and to simply be welcomed as part of the team.

Thanks for an awesome summer!

– Jenelle

Hanging Up an e-Shingle

I just finished building my author website, or rather, just finished being in awe of watching Amanda Weisel, webmaster extraordinaire, build it, and it's got me nostalgic. And nervous. This bold step of hanging my shingle right out there, saying, "My author-self is open for business! Come on in!" feels pretty scary, crazy, and certainly too big.

I know folks who have author websites, Chris Baty, for example, and I do not look at Chris B. or his awesome dirigible-infested website through my crazy goggles. I don't think, "Chris B., simmer down now!" (Of course, Chris B. is bigger than me. Not only is he a very tall man, he has actually sold actual books, while all I've done is sold the promise of a book.) Famous or not though, it makes perfect sense to me when anyone else decides to hang their calling card in the e-universe for the rest of us to find, because quite obviously, writing is a calling (see what I did there?! Shazam, word play!), but between you and me, I'm not quite feeling like I'm ready yet.

"So how did you get here, then?" you might ask, "This supposed humility is the blusher's version of a fake tan!" (Clever you and your word play!)

The truth is that this whole Tupe-gets-a-website idea wasn't my own at first and that's where the nostalgia comes in. Flashback to when I was still getting my nib wet in graduate school and I made a great friend whose words I adore (so very much that I've asked him to perform my wedding ceremony), Thorn Kief Hillsbery. (Jaw drops in 4…) We were talking about author websites one day and that's (3…) when Thorn told me that (2…) he'd already purchased my domain name (1…): he bought it when he first read my work, he said, so it would be sure to be there when I was ready.

Right?! But what's hitting me is that the domain-name purchase was not the gift. The gift was Thorn's confidence in my work. He believed in me, and even though I'm still not ready, I'm scared as H-E-Quadruple-Hockey-Sticks, his belief has helped move me forward. What I realize is, domain names or not, we can all do this for each other. (All the time! For free!) Sometimes the only momentum you have is that friend who believes in you right out loud. So, right out loud: I believe in you. I'm buying your domain name with my heart and I'm holding it until you're ready to put your calling card out there.

I'd love to hear about who propels you and who you're propelling, who supports you, pushes you, perhaps even carries you a bit, on your writing journey, and who you support and push and carry right back. Who is your Thorn?

-Tupelo

Hanging Up an E-Shingle

I just finished building my author website, or rather, just finished being in awe of watching Amanda Weisel, webmaster extraordinaire, build it, and it's got me nostalgic. And nervous. This bold step of hanging my shingle right out there, saying, "My author-self is open for business! Come on in!" feels pretty scary, crazy, and certainly too big.

I know folks who have author websites—Chris Baty, for example, and I do not look at Chris B. or his awesome dirigible-infested website through my crazy goggles. I don't think, "Chris B., simmer down now!" (Of course, Chris B. is bigger than me. Not only is he a very tall man, he has actually sold actual books, while all I've done is sold the promise of a book.) Famous or not, though, it makes perfect sense to me when anyone else decides to hang their calling card in the e-universe for the rest of us to find, because quite obviously, writing is a calling (see what I did there?! Shazam, wordplay!), but between you and me, I'm not quite feeling like I'm ready yet.

"So how did you get here, then?" you might ask, "This supposed humility is the blusher's version of a fake tan!" (Clever you and your wordplay!)

The truth is that this whole Tupe-gets-a-website idea wasn't my own at first and that's where the nostalgia comes in. Flashback to when I was still getting my nib wet in graduate school and I made a great friend whose words I adore (so very much that I've asked him to perform my wedding ceremony), Thorn Kief Hillsbery. (Jaw drops in 4…) We were talking about author websites one day and that's (3…) when Thorn told me that (2…) he'd already purchased my domain name (1…): he bought it when he first read my work, he said, so it would be sure to be there when I was ready.

Right?! But what's hitting me is that the domain-name purchase was not the gift. The gift was Thorn's confidence in my work. He believed in me, and even though I'm still not ready, I'm scared as H-E-Quadruple-Hockey-Sticks, his belief has helped move me forward. What I realize is, domain names or not, we can all do this for each other. (All the time! For free!) Sometimes the only momentum you have is that friend who believes in you right out loud. So, right out loud: I believe in you. I'm buying your domain name with my heart and I'm holding it until you're ready to put your calling card out there.

I'd love to hear about who propels you and who you're propelling, who supports you, pushes you, perhaps even carries you a bit, on your writing journey, and who you support and push and carry right back. Who is your Thorn?

– Tupelo

Embarrassing Celebrity Crushes

My niece turned 10 last week, and as part of her birthday present, my husband picked up this hilarious magazine. (He said he has never been so glad for self check-out at the grocery store.)

Once I recovered from laughing at him, I tweeted a photo of the cover, which turned into an interesting and hilarious conversation about pre-teen crushes. Chris A. tried to convince me that pre-teen boys didn't have celebrity crushes and told me about his elementary school classmate who was mocked mercilessly for writing a letter to

Tavia had a very un-embarrassing celebrity crush as a pre-teen:
Tupe was a
I could write a lot about the gender and cultural implications of such things (and I bored my husband with a lot of it in the car yesterday), but instead I will simply say that Lisa Simpson's Non-Threatening Boys magazine subscription is one of the most hilariously accurate statements ever made about eight-year-old girls, and that I am very glad never to have to go back to being a pre-teen girl.

Who was your ridiculous pre-teen crush?

-Sarah

Typewriter Injury!

Being a writer isn't the most death-defying lifestyle (if you don't count the many types of soul deaths we die every day, and let's not, let's save soul death for another post). Carpal tunnel syndrome, poverty, and a blinking awe when brought into the light of a room and the warmth of company from the darkness and solitude of our writing cubby are about the worst ailments we can hope to achieve. With few physical battle scars to wow others with from my life of words, imagine my joy when I managed to drop my 40-pound cast-iron Remington typewriter onto my finger (just the one finger, one knuckle, actually) as I prepared to pack it up for a recent trip.

I doubt the finger is broken (though, what does one do with a broken finger, anyway? Much like a broken heart, all you can do with a finger is set it, hope it will straighten out, and grin through the pain) but the knuckle is decidedly of a different shape than it was before. If it weren't my middle finger, I'd proudly show it off, my first visible writing injury. As it is, I share this picture of the injurious machine and ask you about the scars you've earned from your writing, both seen and unseen, and those that your characters carry. After all, scars, invisible and not, are what drive the plot!

-Tupelo

A Random Story Challenge

I had trouble coming up with blog post for this week, so I decided to leave my topic up to fate. Do you guys know that site "Wikipedia"? Well, in addition to lots of interesting facts about otters, it has a cool "Random Article" search function. A perfect resource for the idea-starved! (Take note for November, pantsers.) Here's a quick story based on what it popped out for me today:

Andrea Alina Vergara, the retired female field hockey player from Argentina, held her old stick as she sat in the recliner. She always did this when the Nationals were on. "Brings me closer to the game, niña," she would explain to her daughter. It had been more than 30 years since the 1988 Seoul Olympics, yet the spirit of the sport still animated her.

"Obstruction!" Andrea shouted, leaping up. Her knees were not so strong anymore. A quick wince. She glared at the umpire on the screen as it were his fault.

"Mama, what's wrong?" Luz, her daughter, looked around the corner from the kitchen.

"This guy won't call an obstruction when he sees one," Andrea said, not taking her eyes off the TV. Play continued, blue and yellow jerseys kept moving. Field hockey would go on, whether Andrea Alina Vergara was on the pitch or not.

Luz was already back at the stove. She called into the living room: "You are too invested."

Andrea didn't hear her. Focusing on a particular yellow player, she instinctually moved her body into passing position. A quick flick of the wrist—that was all it would take to direct the ball down the turf to her teammate in the shooting circle. She tightened her grip and waited for the right moment.

Ready to give it a try? Click here for a random Wikipedia article, and write a brief story to post in the comments. Don't skip to the next one; it's more fun to play the card you're dealt, no matter how difficult. Free NaNoWriMo stickers to folks who make the most out of a tough draw!

– Chris A.

Photo by Flickr user weneigh