Chris Baty's Blog, page 267

The Great Gatsby

I've been re-reading The Great Gatsby, which I haven't read since high school. I'm reading it for a class called "Style in Fiction" which makes perfect sense, since the book is so stylistic. (It's really amazing, actually!) I don't remember loving the book in high school. I didn't dislike it either. It just didn't leave an impression on me. But now I am absolutely loving it, and wondering why I didn't love it in high school.

I was talking about this with one of my professors, who suggested that it was because books are often taught differently in high school. In high school there is a sense that everything in a book is symbolic. Everything has to mean something. I've always thought this was the wrong way to read because it makes kids think that a book is a puzzle that must be solved. If they don't "get it," they might end up hating reading because they feel like they are doing it wrong.

There's really no wrong way to read a book. (And thankfully, in the MFA world, multiple interpretations are encouraged.) Most books aren't meant to be symbolic (sure, many books have a metaphorical meaning that goes beyond what is on the page, but it's not so black and white; like this means that) and I think we're doing a great disservice to kids by teaching books this way. In fact, I wonder if kids are still taught that in high school? Maybe things have changed since my day.

So my questions for you—What books did you read in high school that you've changed your opinion on since? And for all you teachers out there, how do you teach classic literature to your students?

30 Posters, 30 Days: Day 27

Brian McMullen designed this poster in 24 hours:

Just Misunderstood, a film by Aratos

Logline: The league of evil doctors experience a breakdown in trust in the aftermath of a caper gone very, very right.

The League of Evil Doctors—Dr. Gentleman, a mad scientist in a lab coat, welding goggles, and top-hat; Dr. Dilemma, a mad philosopher; Dr Procrastination, a man so lazy he developed psychic powers to avoid having to work; and a variety of other evil geniuses (plus Dr. Freud)—set out to pull off the ultimate criminal endeavor… and succeed! But as the evil doctors hide out in Dr. Gentleman's secret underground lair awaiting the arrival of Captain Awesome, the world's greatest superhero, tensions are high and mutual suspicion leads to the tragic and hilarious deaths of the entire group.

Brian McMullen is a writer and artist living in San Francisco. He works at McSweeney's, where he recently edited and art-directed an issue of McSweeney's Quarterly (#36) that looks like a human head.

Cultural Omnivores

I came across this great blog post the other day, and had one of those happy internet moments when someone else describes you in a way you'd never really thought about before. (Thanks, NPR!)

I am a cultural omnivore. I love the ballet, but I also love the über-cheesy dance movie Center Stage. I go to the symphony, and am also going to the NKOTBSB concert this summer. (If it is anywhere near as awesome as the NKOTB concert I went to a few years ago, it is going to rule.) I go to a lot of movies, but I also see plays whenever I can manage it. I saw all ten Best Picture nominees this year, but I also saw Snakes on a Plane on opening night. (Probably the most hilarious movie-going experience of my life.)

Books are the same: Pride and Prejudice is one of my favourites, but I will happily read some fluffy chick lit novel with shoes on the cover. I watch Mad Men, but I also watch So You Think You Can Dance? every summer.

There are some areas where I'm a bit of a snob, and I confess to being lukewarm on most opera and befuddled by the wild popularity of American Idol, but I genuinely enjoy all sorts of culture, pop or otherwise. So I'm going to quit apologizing for my low-brow tastes and stop bragging about the high-brow ones, and just embrace being a cultural omnivore. It's always easier when you can define yourself with a catchy name!

Are you a cultural omnivore? Do you downplay your low-brow tastes in favour of the high-brow stuff? Let's knock that off, shall we, and embrace our omnivorous ways!

(Photo of Symphony Under the Sky here in Edmonton by Mastermaq.)

A Day in the Work Life of…. Blobby!

I'm so excited about this week's interview with our office pet Blobby. It will be a first for Blobby, so I figure he's excited (and nervous), too.

But before the main event, we'd like to give last week's prize to Jordan for offering the best coffee-quitting advice to Tupelo.

Because of you, she's made it to Day 7. A note from Tupelo, "Many thanks to Jordan, not only for the soothing advice about how to quit drinking coffee but also for the tip on what to do with all of those loose cables! What a relief!"

Okay, what I know about Blobby:

He's really, really huggable.
He likes sitting on your lap while you're working on really boring spreadsheets.
He's green.
He's super-positive most of the time, but sometimes he complains about the length of his arms.
He usually takes his lunch with Sharkie.
He never takes his lunch with Chris Baty Doll (we think he's intimidated).
He's writing a screenplay entitled "BLURPY: THE ADVENTURES OF MY PILLOW."
He's originally from Florida. Original parents: Lindsey Pittman and Madison Bell.
His favorite season is spring.
He is the best office pet one could ever ask for.

Now, let's find out more about what this mysterious creature does at the office.

Blobby, it always looks so nice when we come in each morning. Do you help do the dishes and straighten up at night while we're away? 

RAH!

That's totally what we thought! Thanks, Blobby. You really are the best pet ever. Does Sharkie ever help out? 

 BLARG.

Well, it's a wonder that you guys are still friends. Speaking of friends, who is your favorite OLL employee? 

ANGOTTI!

I'll be sure to pass that along to him! Is there something that you especially like about Chris?

GRUFFLE.

I totally agree. Chris does have really smart things to say at our weekly meetings. So what do you like to do while the rest of us are working all day?

BLOBBY!

Yes, indeed. Is there anything else you'd like to share with the OLL Blog-o-sphere?

BLOBBYBLOBBY.

We decided to cut the interview short since Blobby was suddenly overcome with nervousness. When asked if he would like to give away anything from his desk and what someone would have to do to win the items, Blobby said, "GUMPO!" and pushed forward his wristbands and a Script Frenzy pen.

The response with the most "GUMPO!" wins Blobby's giveaway!

30 Posters, 30 Days: Day 26

Jesse LeDoux designed this poster in 24 hours:

Framed, a film by withanee206

Logline: How do you find your way home when you don't know when you are?

Ivan, Emma, and Zak begin the day on a school trip to the art gallery and end up sucked inside a painting from the 1500s. There they meet Rissa, a girl from 2206 who is holding the Game, and together they have to discover the answers to get themselves home.

If being stuck in a painting isn't bad enough, the four are also being chased through the art movements by Cleo, Ten, and Jaleb. Thieves from Rissa's time, they have been paid to steal the Game by a competing corporation.

From the late Renaissance, through the Baroque, Romanticism and Impressionist periods, the teens have to avoid the traps within the paintings as well as out-wit the gang closing in on them.

Born in Portland, Oregon, Jesse LeDoux worked for many years as an art director for Sub Pop Records where he created iconic album and poster artwork for such artists as the Shins, Iron and Wine, and Death Cab for Cutie before leaving in 2004 to focus on his work at LeDouxville. Parallel to working on commercial illustration and collaborative projects for such clients as Nike, Kidrobot, Giro, Penguin UK, Rome Snowboards and Target, he has exhibited internationally. He currently lives and works in Seattle, WA. www.ledouxville.com

Adaptable Me

May 2nd is seven days away. It is a Monday. It is also the deadline for the Sundance Institute's Screenwriters Lab! This deadline is a mere two days after Script Frenzy ends… coincidence? I have Sundance on the brain because Scriptwriter Friend, who's been writing a script of my novel, girlchild, is working on his application for Sundance now! It's a long shot, but if it weren't for long shots, I wouldn't be here, how about you? If you're thinking about applying, the May 2nd deadline is a postmarked-by deadline! All you've got to lose is the $35 application fee and a stamp. Okay, plus the paper and envelope, but seriously, what better way to celebrate a successful Frenzy?

Scriptwriter Friend has made girlchild his own, going so far as to move one of the story's main characters to the back seat in his script! It might sound strange, but this is fine with me. Scriptwriter Friend is also a reader and readers do what they will. As a reader, that's what I do. I don't wonder if I'm "getting it right"—that doesn't sound like fun at all! Stories should come alive in particular, even peculiar, ways. Like the journal in this picture says, words do have a life of their own and good for them. (My friend Deedles made this awesome journal after girlchild was sold—it was even prettier then but has been tortured in use.) Scriptwriter Friend believed in girlchild when it was just a twinkling of font in my eye but even if he hadn't, I love the idea of him taking his perception of my novel and running with it. I can't wait to see what it becomes.

What I'm wondering is how many of you are adapting a novel or story this Frenzy and how it feels to make it your own? Are you concerned about "staying true" to the original? Is your vision your top priority? Have you found a nice middle ground? If you're adapting your own work, like Nancy is, do you find the original characters or plot shifting? I'd love to hear how it's going!

30 Posters, 30 Days: Day 25

Kellie Rogers designed this poster in 24 hours:

Dead Letters, a film by zaise chsa

Logline: A newbie in the Dead Letter Office of the USPS must deliver a stack of unread letters from a Vietnam War soldier to his sweetheart.

A newbie at the Dead Letter office of the USPS finds a pile of unread letters from a young soldier in the Vietnam War to his sweetheart. The newbie—with the consent of his supervisor—decides to try and find either the sender or the receiver. To find the information needed to make the delivery, he must follow a trail through history that will test the boundaries he is willing to cross for someone he has never met.

Kellie Rogers is a native Washingtonian living in Seattle, WA. She studied graphic design at the Seattle Central Creative Academy and is now working at Amazon. You can see some of her work at www.kellierogers.com.

Going to camp... in my mind.

Over the past few months we have been planning the functionality of, designing the website for, and recruiting a development team to code the new Camp NaNoWriMo website.

The idea behind Camp NaNoWriMo is that it will provide the same seat-of-your-britches, novel-in-a-month literary extravaganza as NaNoWriMo, but during months other than November.

This means that folks who are hyper-motivated to NaNo it up multiple times a year are in luck, as are those who simply can't write a novel in November but could do so in say… August.

Working on the functionality and visual aesthetic for the site got me deep into nostalgic camp reveries. Tents, canoes, flagpoles, grizzly bears, bunkmates, mosquitos the size of my kneecap, letters home, care packages… I am having a ball remembering it all!

What is your best (or worst!) memory of camp?

30 Posters, 30 Days: Day 24

Allen Lau designed this poster in 24 hours:

Snow Day, a film by lberry

Logline: A closet-computer programmer and the viola player he hopes to take to prom search for the hacker behind a series of escalating traffic accidents.

When Oliver hacked the school computer system in seventh grade, he had only meant to give his classmates a snow day. He hadn't meant to get caught, and the last person he had expected to turn him in to the principal—as well as the police—was his own dad. So when they sentenced him to a public apology and the entire student body to an extra day tacked on at the end of the year, his reputation went from that of an anonymous hero to "target practice." Though the bullying stopped as soon as the year came to a close, Oliver could never quite shake it.

Years later, Oliver is more than ready to graduate high school. His social status has never fully recovered, and he has walked on eggshells to avoid making any waves. His fascination with computers, as a rule, never leaves his room. And most of the time, he's fine with it: it's senior year, the atmosphere is nonchalant, and his main concern is asking the colorful viola player Coralie to the Winter Wonderland prom—that is, until the state government apprehends him in English class. Due to the seventh grade snow day fiasco, he knows his name has been on a list of criminal hackers for years; it's just never been a problem before. Now he's being questioned about traffic lights, of all things.

Though he is quickly found innocent, Oliver can't seem to quell his curiosity. Someone has been messing with the stop lights, and already two people have died in resultant pile-ups. With the help of Coralie, he'll search for the hacker behind the accidents. Perhaps along the way he'll come to terms with the "snow day incident" and score a date for the prom, too.

Allen Lau is an Interactive Designer at Tether in Seattle. When he is not working, you can find him either watching obscure indie films, pondering on the mysteries of life, or bouldering at indoor rock climbing gyms. www.allenylau.com

30 Posters, 30 Days: Day 23

Sasha Barr designed this poster in 24 hours:

The Insignificant, a film by Gilli_

Logline: In 2048 cloning is perfected. In 2053 nearly everyone in the United States has one in case of emergency. These are The Insignificant.

The script follows a clone, 35118X2, just after his original, Chris Ambler, suffers a grave injury. After giving up most of his blood, 32118X2 is taken back to his holding tank in a vast warehouse filled to the brim with more tanks. We quickly realize he's becoming self-aware. Under normal circumstances, clones are as dead to the world as something can be and still have a heartbeat, and are only around to be used as organ donors for their originals.

He begins seeing flashes of memory from his original. He sees a woman, Judy, Chris's fiancee, over and over again. He soon develops the feelings Chris has for her and longs to see her, to touch her.

He also realizes that he isn't alone. He can see the world around him through the thick pinkish/clear liquid nutrients the clones are kept in, and begins to feel outrage and sadness at how they're being used as organ donors and how he'll never be able to feel the sun warming his skin. Or the grass between his toes.

Sasha Barr is a designer/illustrator originally from the hills of Tennessee, currently living in Seattle. WA. For the past ten years he has designed posters, rearranged text, and generally made things pretty. He is currently an art director for Sub Pop records as well as co-owner of Wonder Thunder, a screen-printed textile company. He spends his free time skateboarding and manhandling his two cats. You can see his work here: www.thisisthenewyear.com; here: wonderthunder.etsy.com; and here: www.subpop.com