You wanted answers, and now you've got them...aside from the weird color effects and credits which were added without my consent, and even though my name does not appear anywhere on this...I will fill you in. Yes, directed by Sean Crowder, fine, but written by Elliot Rauscher, Carrie Shmick and Sean Crowder, Camera by Chaday Barnes, starring Elliot Rauscher and Carrie Shmick. Without further ado, I give you...
The Shoe Thief
Thursday, March 08, 2007
Saturday, February 17, 2007
Hang it on the wall anyway...art is art, right?
When I was younger, and in grade school, or, rather, when I was young and in grade school...no, no, younger is correct, because let's face it, as old as I feel sometimes (going to bed at 9 on a Friday night? Having a quiet Saturday at home during Mardi Gras?), I am still rather young and shouldn't be saying things like "When I was young..." because then it sounds like I'm missing teeth and have my mortgage paid off which, I assure you, I most certainly do not. So, with that in mind...
When I was younger, and in grade school, I used to try and draw. Everybody drew. The cool kids drew, the quiet kids drew, even the bullies were known to turn out some stunning Art Smart Award* winning masterpieces so, in an effort to fit in and distance myself from those other five or six kids who couldn't draw, I at least tried to draw.
Now, my mother, being the consummate politician, adored all of my drawings that I brought home from my art class and I, being ever-ready for validation of my (seemingly) limited number of skills, brought each and every one of them home, laminated, with the expectation that she would display them on the wall of our dining room with with the help of sticky-tack putty. She put some horrid drawings, paintings, colorings and sketches up there. I think I only passed art classes in grade school because we were graded on effort, not on degree of skill or quality of masterpiece. Masterpieces, well, that was a stretch for anything I ever turned out in those classes...with the exception of some of the more abstract modernist styled art projects we were assigned (I can't remember, I could ask my wife she'd know...or it's in one of her art books downstairs and I don't feel like going down there because I am blogging/cooking dinner...), such as the one where there were a series of black, straight lines, and wherever they made a shape (triangle, rectangle, some sort of polygon) I filled in the shape with a primary color. They were all there the bad and the worse, on the dining room wall, alongside my sister's much more polished efforts (however, she did the same art projects three years ahead of me, so by the end of fifth grade we had some very suspiciously similar works of art. I promise I never once intentionally copied one of hers).
Strangely enough, as bad as I was I did not limit my drawing skills(?) to the confines of the arts annex** but instead flexed my puny art muscle during free period or indoor rainy-day recess. This did not improve my drawing to say the least, and it just made those cool/quiet/bully kids laugh at me because I thought I could draw. This did not deter me (and I did suffer for this, amongst other things, but suffering is part of being an artist, is it not?), and in 4th grade I began reading Calvin and Hobbes and also The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. I had become a writer (to a point) as well, because I enjoyed writing assignments so much that I had started writing along with my drawings...I had turned my childhood stuffed animals into comic strip characters. I'm older and not afraid or ashamed to admit that (I was, for a time, too old and ashamed to admit such a thing had ever happened, but that was middle school and that is a chapter of my life that shall happily remain closed for the time being). The drawings were crude. I mean, they were awful. I mean...they were possibly the worst drawings to ever have been labelled as a comic strip (with the possible exception of Ziggy, but it's not my job to be a comic page critic, unfortunately). But what kept them interesting to those I showed them to, including not only my best friend Jesse Fournier*** but also my parents (again, they were obliged to like them but something about the way my mom liked them suggested she wasn't just being nice) and my teacher was not the crappy drawing but the story lines and the dialogue that drove them. There was the easter series, where Ricky the cat got a white chocolate easter bunny in his basket, and it was the envy of all the others. In the middle of the night, Sneaky Feak, the mischevious yellow rabbit of the bunch, snuck into the kitchen to steal the white chocolate bunny from the refrigerator, only to find that it was not being kept in there. Concluding that it must have been stowed in the basement refrigerator, Sneaky Feak turns to see the refrigerator door close, his world plunged into darkness and he unable to reopen the door (this was a relatively easy panel to draw). The very next line of panels told of Furry Guy's pursuit of Ricky's coveted white chocolate easter bunny (Furry Guy being Ricky's older-by-seven-seconds brother). Furry Guy, like Sneaky Feak, searched in the main refrigerator and what does he find? He finds it! So, he takes it out and sinks his teeth into the bunny's ears. And a loud howl emits from the rabbit's mouth. The next set of panels shows a room full of animals (Ricky, Furry Guy, Sneaky Feak along with Octoplus the Octopus, Snowy the white cat, Sneaky Feak's mother who's name I can not for the life of me remember anymore, and Mr. Guy Man, a microscopic alien with the strength of thirty men, who was often indicated only by a tiny dot on the page from which a dialogue bubble seemed to pop out of). Sneaky Feak is being attended to by his mother, who is bandaging his wounds. Ricky is furious with both Sneaky Feak and Furry Guy, and Snowy, Octoplus and Mr. Guy Man want to know how Furry Guy could have made such a mistake. His excuse? "Hey, come on, I'm a cat, how am I supposed to know white from yellow? I'm colorblind."
A rudimentary joke, perhaps, but one that intrigued my teacher, Mrs. McFadden**** to the point that she encourage me to write more...and implied that I should draw less.
Cut to the present, I am now a writer, unpublished yes, but nonetheless a writer of sorts and I am married to an artist who has, in her lifetime, had work displayed in galleries and won contests and such. She can draw. I still can't. I can, however, work a camera, which is the only way I get to hang anything I had a hand in creating on our walls. You see, we have some of her drawings, skethes and paintings about the house, and they're not laminated or held on with sticky-tack putty either, but I mean they are framed and hung on nails we've pounded into our walls. This is a way of displaying her talent to any who visit our home. "What's this?" They'll ask, pointing to a particular block of wood with a rose burnt into it that hangs in our bedroom. "Oh, that," I'll say nonchalantly, "That's just one of Kathy's pieces of artwork. Like this other one, this drawing of a rose, and over in this other room, this sketch of the baby elephant and this one of the child with his hands on his cheeks. Yeah, Kathy did them all."
Just once, I want Kathy to point to a series of, say, fifteen frames, all containing 8 1/2" by 11" sheets of paper, in a specific order left to right, and say, "This is one of my favorites; a short story Elliot wrote about two years ago about a twenty-something spending the night in jail with an old friend.***** It's quite good, I'll leave you to read it."
Now if only I could find a long, bare enough wall in our house that gets plenty of light.
______________________________________________
Notes:
*An Art Smart Award was a small piece of paper the grade school's art teacher would tape to the back of your piece of art. Your artwork would also be displayed in the hallway. I earned very few of these in my grade school academic career.
**A temporary classroom trailer dropped off on my school's blacktop playground for temporary use in 1989 which is, of course, still there to this day. It contained the art classroom and music classroom. What had been the art classroom in the building became a first grade classroom and, to my knowledge, there had not been a music classroom for some years as the music teacher used to go from individual classroom to individual classroom with a portable electronic keyboard.
***Pronounced Four-Knee-A, I later attended an intro to psychology class with his younger sister, Valerie at St. Louis Community College at Meramec. While I was in 4th grade, I was the tender age of ten and Valerie was the even more tender age of eight. Having fallen out of best-friendship with Jesse round about two years later, Valerie remained permanently eight or nine in my mind, even when she cropped up in high school my junior year, so it was very hard for me to reconcile little Valerie Fournier with this scantily-clad college freshmen none of the other twenty guys in my psych class could keep their eyes off of. Aside from being engaged to Kathy at the time, I just couldn't stare at her. She was, like, a little kid. Ew. And my best friend's off-limits sister. And I'm sorry, but once you are diagnosed with weird-little-sister cooties, they do not ever go away. Ever.
****Mrs. McFadden had in fact been Miss Derby just three short years before when she was my sister's fourth grade teacher. She was my sister's most favorite teacher at Avery Elementary and mine too. It was she who taught my sister...well, some things, I'm sure, you'd actually have to ask her, but the main point is, it was she who first introduced me to Douglas Adams and The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy and for that, I am forever in her debt.
*****This particular piece is called "Headlight" and is based on two separate incidents, one in which I was pulled over twice in the same night, five minutes apart, for having a headlight out and one in which a very smart old friend of mine confided in me that he had been fired from my current employer for stealing close to four thousand dollars worth of electronics.
Discussed in this post:
When I was younger, and in grade school, I used to try and draw. Everybody drew. The cool kids drew, the quiet kids drew, even the bullies were known to turn out some stunning Art Smart Award* winning masterpieces so, in an effort to fit in and distance myself from those other five or six kids who couldn't draw, I at least tried to draw.
Now, my mother, being the consummate politician, adored all of my drawings that I brought home from my art class and I, being ever-ready for validation of my (seemingly) limited number of skills, brought each and every one of them home, laminated, with the expectation that she would display them on the wall of our dining room with with the help of sticky-tack putty. She put some horrid drawings, paintings, colorings and sketches up there. I think I only passed art classes in grade school because we were graded on effort, not on degree of skill or quality of masterpiece. Masterpieces, well, that was a stretch for anything I ever turned out in those classes...with the exception of some of the more abstract modernist styled art projects we were assigned (I can't remember, I could ask my wife she'd know...or it's in one of her art books downstairs and I don't feel like going down there because I am blogging/cooking dinner...), such as the one where there were a series of black, straight lines, and wherever they made a shape (triangle, rectangle, some sort of polygon) I filled in the shape with a primary color. They were all there the bad and the worse, on the dining room wall, alongside my sister's much more polished efforts (however, she did the same art projects three years ahead of me, so by the end of fifth grade we had some very suspiciously similar works of art. I promise I never once intentionally copied one of hers).
Strangely enough, as bad as I was I did not limit my drawing skills(?) to the confines of the arts annex** but instead flexed my puny art muscle during free period or indoor rainy-day recess. This did not improve my drawing to say the least, and it just made those cool/quiet/bully kids laugh at me because I thought I could draw. This did not deter me (and I did suffer for this, amongst other things, but suffering is part of being an artist, is it not?), and in 4th grade I began reading Calvin and Hobbes and also The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. I had become a writer (to a point) as well, because I enjoyed writing assignments so much that I had started writing along with my drawings...I had turned my childhood stuffed animals into comic strip characters. I'm older and not afraid or ashamed to admit that (I was, for a time, too old and ashamed to admit such a thing had ever happened, but that was middle school and that is a chapter of my life that shall happily remain closed for the time being). The drawings were crude. I mean, they were awful. I mean...they were possibly the worst drawings to ever have been labelled as a comic strip (with the possible exception of Ziggy, but it's not my job to be a comic page critic, unfortunately). But what kept them interesting to those I showed them to, including not only my best friend Jesse Fournier*** but also my parents (again, they were obliged to like them but something about the way my mom liked them suggested she wasn't just being nice) and my teacher was not the crappy drawing but the story lines and the dialogue that drove them. There was the easter series, where Ricky the cat got a white chocolate easter bunny in his basket, and it was the envy of all the others. In the middle of the night, Sneaky Feak, the mischevious yellow rabbit of the bunch, snuck into the kitchen to steal the white chocolate bunny from the refrigerator, only to find that it was not being kept in there. Concluding that it must have been stowed in the basement refrigerator, Sneaky Feak turns to see the refrigerator door close, his world plunged into darkness and he unable to reopen the door (this was a relatively easy panel to draw). The very next line of panels told of Furry Guy's pursuit of Ricky's coveted white chocolate easter bunny (Furry Guy being Ricky's older-by-seven-seconds brother). Furry Guy, like Sneaky Feak, searched in the main refrigerator and what does he find? He finds it! So, he takes it out and sinks his teeth into the bunny's ears. And a loud howl emits from the rabbit's mouth. The next set of panels shows a room full of animals (Ricky, Furry Guy, Sneaky Feak along with Octoplus the Octopus, Snowy the white cat, Sneaky Feak's mother who's name I can not for the life of me remember anymore, and Mr. Guy Man, a microscopic alien with the strength of thirty men, who was often indicated only by a tiny dot on the page from which a dialogue bubble seemed to pop out of). Sneaky Feak is being attended to by his mother, who is bandaging his wounds. Ricky is furious with both Sneaky Feak and Furry Guy, and Snowy, Octoplus and Mr. Guy Man want to know how Furry Guy could have made such a mistake. His excuse? "Hey, come on, I'm a cat, how am I supposed to know white from yellow? I'm colorblind."
A rudimentary joke, perhaps, but one that intrigued my teacher, Mrs. McFadden**** to the point that she encourage me to write more...and implied that I should draw less.
Cut to the present, I am now a writer, unpublished yes, but nonetheless a writer of sorts and I am married to an artist who has, in her lifetime, had work displayed in galleries and won contests and such. She can draw. I still can't. I can, however, work a camera, which is the only way I get to hang anything I had a hand in creating on our walls. You see, we have some of her drawings, skethes and paintings about the house, and they're not laminated or held on with sticky-tack putty either, but I mean they are framed and hung on nails we've pounded into our walls. This is a way of displaying her talent to any who visit our home. "What's this?" They'll ask, pointing to a particular block of wood with a rose burnt into it that hangs in our bedroom. "Oh, that," I'll say nonchalantly, "That's just one of Kathy's pieces of artwork. Like this other one, this drawing of a rose, and over in this other room, this sketch of the baby elephant and this one of the child with his hands on his cheeks. Yeah, Kathy did them all."
Just once, I want Kathy to point to a series of, say, fifteen frames, all containing 8 1/2" by 11" sheets of paper, in a specific order left to right, and say, "This is one of my favorites; a short story Elliot wrote about two years ago about a twenty-something spending the night in jail with an old friend.***** It's quite good, I'll leave you to read it."
Now if only I could find a long, bare enough wall in our house that gets plenty of light.
______________________________________________
Notes:
*An Art Smart Award was a small piece of paper the grade school's art teacher would tape to the back of your piece of art. Your artwork would also be displayed in the hallway. I earned very few of these in my grade school academic career.
**A temporary classroom trailer dropped off on my school's blacktop playground for temporary use in 1989 which is, of course, still there to this day. It contained the art classroom and music classroom. What had been the art classroom in the building became a first grade classroom and, to my knowledge, there had not been a music classroom for some years as the music teacher used to go from individual classroom to individual classroom with a portable electronic keyboard.
***Pronounced Four-Knee-A, I later attended an intro to psychology class with his younger sister, Valerie at St. Louis Community College at Meramec. While I was in 4th grade, I was the tender age of ten and Valerie was the even more tender age of eight. Having fallen out of best-friendship with Jesse round about two years later, Valerie remained permanently eight or nine in my mind, even when she cropped up in high school my junior year, so it was very hard for me to reconcile little Valerie Fournier with this scantily-clad college freshmen none of the other twenty guys in my psych class could keep their eyes off of. Aside from being engaged to Kathy at the time, I just couldn't stare at her. She was, like, a little kid. Ew. And my best friend's off-limits sister. And I'm sorry, but once you are diagnosed with weird-little-sister cooties, they do not ever go away. Ever.
****Mrs. McFadden had in fact been Miss Derby just three short years before when she was my sister's fourth grade teacher. She was my sister's most favorite teacher at Avery Elementary and mine too. It was she who taught my sister...well, some things, I'm sure, you'd actually have to ask her, but the main point is, it was she who first introduced me to Douglas Adams and The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy and for that, I am forever in her debt.
*****This particular piece is called "Headlight" and is based on two separate incidents, one in which I was pulled over twice in the same night, five minutes apart, for having a headlight out and one in which a very smart old friend of mine confided in me that he had been fired from my current employer for stealing close to four thousand dollars worth of electronics.
Discussed in this post:
Thursday, February 01, 2007
Playwright
With an e-mail, I found today that while my friend Chris' play got selected for Surfacing One Act Festival, and an as-of-yet unwritten play also got slected (commissioned by the artistic director, to be written by a guy I know will do a good job and all, but still...), my one act was not selected. I could gripe about this but...
I wrote it very quickly. I wrote it for the deadline, not for the play. It's rough. It's got some major flaws. It's better than "In 500 Words Or Less..." was, but it's not yet as good as "500 Words..." could have been if I had crafted it better. Nevermind that they're both about students who are using almost superhuman powers of slack to not write papers. This is something I am good at. See, I wrote for the deadline.
Unfortunately, if I want to be serious, and be taken seriously, I can't submit shit like that. People expect a crafted product. I'm handing them a work in progress. It might be bold, awesome and impressive as a work in progress, but they assume I've done all the work I could on it, or that if it took me a long time to get it where it is it's probably not worth the hassle, and so forth, so they pass. I'm a master of the awesome first draft I've decided, and for years I had teachers who were willing to accept an awesome first draft as a finished product. I've never been happy with that, but it worked so I let it work. Angela tried to help me with that. No, scratch that; Angela did help me with that. I am sure my writing instructors at Webster will be equally as helpful. I just need to help myself.
And so it comes to this; I have turned in a play with potential, but have failed to unlock it enough for the reading committee to accept the challenge of unlocking it more. I obviously need to do more work on it. The e-mail said they won't give criticism on the works that were not selected due to the sheer volume of work submitted, which could give me false hope (and it has given me a small amount of this) that mine would have been good enough if not for one or two slightly stronger candidates. But I have to be pessimistic, which goes against my earlier New Year's resolutions. But, I have to be a better writer, which means I have to believe I can always do better than I have done.
I have to start writing another play now. This one for class. And I was without an idea, until I idly clicked on Memory Machine's blog over in my links (Urban Exploration). I figured it out. My uncle Dennis is in town. I could e-mail this guy. I don't want to go Urban Exploring, I just want to know what it's like. What is it like to go to one of these places? What kind of thing could happen there? The amunition plant interests me; my father once worked there. What could I do with that?
A lot.
Music to Blog By:
The Thermals - A Pillar of Salt
Discussed in this post:
I wrote it very quickly. I wrote it for the deadline, not for the play. It's rough. It's got some major flaws. It's better than "In 500 Words Or Less..." was, but it's not yet as good as "500 Words..." could have been if I had crafted it better. Nevermind that they're both about students who are using almost superhuman powers of slack to not write papers. This is something I am good at. See, I wrote for the deadline.
Unfortunately, if I want to be serious, and be taken seriously, I can't submit shit like that. People expect a crafted product. I'm handing them a work in progress. It might be bold, awesome and impressive as a work in progress, but they assume I've done all the work I could on it, or that if it took me a long time to get it where it is it's probably not worth the hassle, and so forth, so they pass. I'm a master of the awesome first draft I've decided, and for years I had teachers who were willing to accept an awesome first draft as a finished product. I've never been happy with that, but it worked so I let it work. Angela tried to help me with that. No, scratch that; Angela did help me with that. I am sure my writing instructors at Webster will be equally as helpful. I just need to help myself.
And so it comes to this; I have turned in a play with potential, but have failed to unlock it enough for the reading committee to accept the challenge of unlocking it more. I obviously need to do more work on it. The e-mail said they won't give criticism on the works that were not selected due to the sheer volume of work submitted, which could give me false hope (and it has given me a small amount of this) that mine would have been good enough if not for one or two slightly stronger candidates. But I have to be pessimistic, which goes against my earlier New Year's resolutions. But, I have to be a better writer, which means I have to believe I can always do better than I have done.
I have to start writing another play now. This one for class. And I was without an idea, until I idly clicked on Memory Machine's blog over in my links (Urban Exploration). I figured it out. My uncle Dennis is in town. I could e-mail this guy. I don't want to go Urban Exploring, I just want to know what it's like. What is it like to go to one of these places? What kind of thing could happen there? The amunition plant interests me; my father once worked there. What could I do with that?
A lot.
Music to Blog By:
The Thermals - A Pillar of Salt
Discussed in this post:
Tuesday, January 30, 2007
Yes, You Heard Me, My Cousin Chris Farley
I was using "cousin" in a very loose (I almost said "relative" but thought that might be too much of a pun) sense. You see, my mother's sister Nora is married to Chris Farley's actual familial first cousin. Thus, though not by blood and many times removed, Chris Farley was indeed my cousin.
There are cultures that value family so much, that even if you're four times removed from both sides of the family and once removed from society at large, family is family, and family deserves respect, affection, and recognition. And no, family is not a one way street, and no, Chris Farley never actually got around to respecting/recognizing me as a member of his (far-removed) extended family, but I am confident that he would have gotten around to it at some point in the future if his future had not been so unexpectedly and unfortunately taken away from him. I like to think that Chris Farley would have liked the idea of having somebody like me claiming to be related to him.
So, to those few who have suggested that I am out of line with my particular portrait of my family tree, I say this: I am aware of just how far removed Chris Farley and I were from each other. But, I feel like I know him better than I know some of my more geographically (and mentally) distant cousins to whom I am actually blood-related (sadly). Or, to make a better point...I am often told that I share much in common with my great-grandfather, whom I never met and thus have nothing but family stories told through the ever-thickening haze of history, while I have documented (and often re-run on Comedy Central) footage of Cousin Chris (as I fondly refer to him). Should I just leave my great-grandfather out of my family tree because he is just a handful of obscure stories? Of course not!
So, why would I leave Cousin Chris out?
Music to Blog By:
Red Right Hand - Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds
Discussed in this post:
There are cultures that value family so much, that even if you're four times removed from both sides of the family and once removed from society at large, family is family, and family deserves respect, affection, and recognition. And no, family is not a one way street, and no, Chris Farley never actually got around to respecting/recognizing me as a member of his (far-removed) extended family, but I am confident that he would have gotten around to it at some point in the future if his future had not been so unexpectedly and unfortunately taken away from him. I like to think that Chris Farley would have liked the idea of having somebody like me claiming to be related to him.
So, to those few who have suggested that I am out of line with my particular portrait of my family tree, I say this: I am aware of just how far removed Chris Farley and I were from each other. But, I feel like I know him better than I know some of my more geographically (and mentally) distant cousins to whom I am actually blood-related (sadly). Or, to make a better point...I am often told that I share much in common with my great-grandfather, whom I never met and thus have nothing but family stories told through the ever-thickening haze of history, while I have documented (and often re-run on Comedy Central) footage of Cousin Chris (as I fondly refer to him). Should I just leave my great-grandfather out of my family tree because he is just a handful of obscure stories? Of course not!
So, why would I leave Cousin Chris out?
Music to Blog By:
Red Right Hand - Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds
Discussed in this post:
Saturday, January 20, 2007
SNL's Golden Age...Remember That?
Of course, the first few seasons are out of reach. The cast, the writers...everything they were doing was fresh. They were inventing a genre which has yet to be truly rivaled. It enjoyed a great run through the 80's, and a cast in the early nineties (including Dana Carvey, Mike Meyers, my cousin Chris Farley, Adam Sandler, and Kevin Nealon to name a few) that came a close second to the legendary early cast members. But nowadays...
The problem isn't with the cast, so much as it is with the writers. Being a creative writing major, I can't really criticize too much I suppose, but...comedy writers learn what works in sitcoms and dramas and movies, and so they write what works. They don't invent. They're not on the cutting edge, because the cutting edge doesn't pay the bills.
You see that a lot these days. I'll go ahead and be a total dork and play into the hands of everybody who knows where I'm going with this...
Take, for example, a television show like Arrested Development. For anybody who hasn't seen it that is too bad. If you have seen The Office, and you enjoy it, well...that's too bad. NBC is in a great position these days when it comes to their weeknight programming. As NBC is near the bottom as far as ratings go, they're less afraid to give something new a chance. The Office, Studio 60, My Name is Earl, Scrubs, and Heroes are all shows that a network like ABC or CBS may have considered but passed on, or given a small chance but given up before it really caught. Fox is great at giving a chance to something new, but bad at retention. Arrested Development...think The Office but with a narrator and about a disfunctional family instead of just an office. Great writers on both shows, but Fox killed AD after two and a half seasons.
A show like SNL endurs because it has a legendary past. It can get away with being sub-par because viewers still cling to the glory days...but not forever. It needs to get better soon, or it will start losing viewers. How can it get better? Get better writers. I'm not saying they need to hire writers off the street, but they have got to hire some writers who aren't afraid to think. Right now, even if the skits begin well, they drag on and end abruptly, as if the writers realized it's a sketch show and they've got to keep it under a certain amount, and the people in charge say, "Well, if it's all we've got..." It's just bad comedy to lose your audience halfway through a sketch. Make it punchy. Bring back the slapstick of Belushi and Chase. The ridiculous dialogue of Wayne and Garth. SOMETHING!
It's sad to think that the world writers my age are entering is one in which you have to prepackage your work...suddenly, you shouldn't write manuscripts, but McManuscripts. Everything is homogenized, sterilized, and easily consumable. The George Lopez show is King of Queens for the Latino market. Break out. Do something different.
On a side note, I completed my play for the one act festival, printed it out, took it to the office to turn it in...and nobody was there to take it. The door was locked. So...it didn't get turned in. So what the hell am I supposed to do now? The student in charge of Surfacing hasn't answered me. My friend Kathleen, who is affiliated with the contest, suggested that the deadline may have been extended to Wednesday, but I haven't received confirmation. CRAP!
Music to blog by:
Miss Murder (with bad sound mixing) - AFI
(because I was watching SNL and they were the guest, silly)
Discussed in this post:
The problem isn't with the cast, so much as it is with the writers. Being a creative writing major, I can't really criticize too much I suppose, but...comedy writers learn what works in sitcoms and dramas and movies, and so they write what works. They don't invent. They're not on the cutting edge, because the cutting edge doesn't pay the bills.
You see that a lot these days. I'll go ahead and be a total dork and play into the hands of everybody who knows where I'm going with this...
Take, for example, a television show like Arrested Development. For anybody who hasn't seen it that is too bad. If you have seen The Office, and you enjoy it, well...that's too bad. NBC is in a great position these days when it comes to their weeknight programming. As NBC is near the bottom as far as ratings go, they're less afraid to give something new a chance. The Office, Studio 60, My Name is Earl, Scrubs, and Heroes are all shows that a network like ABC or CBS may have considered but passed on, or given a small chance but given up before it really caught. Fox is great at giving a chance to something new, but bad at retention. Arrested Development...think The Office but with a narrator and about a disfunctional family instead of just an office. Great writers on both shows, but Fox killed AD after two and a half seasons.
A show like SNL endurs because it has a legendary past. It can get away with being sub-par because viewers still cling to the glory days...but not forever. It needs to get better soon, or it will start losing viewers. How can it get better? Get better writers. I'm not saying they need to hire writers off the street, but they have got to hire some writers who aren't afraid to think. Right now, even if the skits begin well, they drag on and end abruptly, as if the writers realized it's a sketch show and they've got to keep it under a certain amount, and the people in charge say, "Well, if it's all we've got..." It's just bad comedy to lose your audience halfway through a sketch. Make it punchy. Bring back the slapstick of Belushi and Chase. The ridiculous dialogue of Wayne and Garth. SOMETHING!
It's sad to think that the world writers my age are entering is one in which you have to prepackage your work...suddenly, you shouldn't write manuscripts, but McManuscripts. Everything is homogenized, sterilized, and easily consumable. The George Lopez show is King of Queens for the Latino market. Break out. Do something different.
On a side note, I completed my play for the one act festival, printed it out, took it to the office to turn it in...and nobody was there to take it. The door was locked. So...it didn't get turned in. So what the hell am I supposed to do now? The student in charge of Surfacing hasn't answered me. My friend Kathleen, who is affiliated with the contest, suggested that the deadline may have been extended to Wednesday, but I haven't received confirmation. CRAP!
Music to blog by:
Miss Murder (with bad sound mixing) - AFI
(because I was watching SNL and they were the guest, silly)
Discussed in this post:
Tuesday, January 02, 2007
The Year in Review, and Resolutions
Well, 2006 was an interesting year. Work: I started out shaky at work, getting pulled into the office and being put on counseling, then turning things around to the point that I was Great Team Hero for the entire group (which happened in July but didn't get into the magazine until November), only to end the year pissed off and stepping down from my position because of school schedule conflicts. I went through three team leads and two ETLs, made some new friends (some of which promptly left...Natascha I'm looking in your direction...), said goodbye to many people who took off for bigger and better things including Jerry, Colleen and Beth, and decided that listening to your employee's concerns and actually doing something to address them are a lot farther apart than some people think.
As far as cycling goes...well, let's not talk about that. Check out my Cycling Blog for more info on that...
2006 was a productive year for my writing. I have a nice stack of work, including my one-act that I completed prior to Christmas. I'm not done editing it, but I am counting that amongst last year's output. Though I was happy with having written outside of my Colin/William/James group in 2005 with "Momentum," and then again this year with two stories in that same timeline called "Kissing Girls" and "Look at How Ugly the Stars Are," I did start writing a story that connects Colin, William and James with Banning and Cameron. School certainly helped with the output, and so...
School is awesome. Yes, I could have done better this past semester with being on top of deadlines and such, but nonetheless I am happy at Webster University. Good times had by me. At school. But let's not forget that I started the year still enrolled at Meramec, which I hated my first semester as friends will recall. But with the summer 2005 session, I found a teacher I really enjoyed. And then I made friends fall 2005 (including a great writing instructor), and in the spring 2006 semester I made some friends that, though I haven't seen or even communicated with them for months, I will always remember them and count them as my peers and great friends.
All in all, a good enough year to forget for the most part.
And so to resolutions for 2007.
Write more.
Ride more.
Stress less.
Love more.
Save more.
Enjoy more.
Live more.
Drive less.
Workout more.
Spend more [time with friends and family].
Reconnect with life.
Dance with my wife more.
Watch more Star Trek.
Smile more.
Laugh more.
Be the best Elliot M. Rauscher I can be.
Try to walk in my mother's vibrating slippers.
And I just did two of those. Let's see who can guess which two!
Music to blog by:
Frank Sinatra - As Time Goes By
Discussed in this post:
As far as cycling goes...well, let's not talk about that. Check out my Cycling Blog for more info on that...
2006 was a productive year for my writing. I have a nice stack of work, including my one-act that I completed prior to Christmas. I'm not done editing it, but I am counting that amongst last year's output. Though I was happy with having written outside of my Colin/William/James group in 2005 with "Momentum," and then again this year with two stories in that same timeline called "Kissing Girls" and "Look at How Ugly the Stars Are," I did start writing a story that connects Colin, William and James with Banning and Cameron. School certainly helped with the output, and so...
School is awesome. Yes, I could have done better this past semester with being on top of deadlines and such, but nonetheless I am happy at Webster University. Good times had by me. At school. But let's not forget that I started the year still enrolled at Meramec, which I hated my first semester as friends will recall. But with the summer 2005 session, I found a teacher I really enjoyed. And then I made friends fall 2005 (including a great writing instructor), and in the spring 2006 semester I made some friends that, though I haven't seen or even communicated with them for months, I will always remember them and count them as my peers and great friends.
All in all, a good enough year to forget for the most part.
And so to resolutions for 2007.
Write more.
Ride more.
Stress less.
Love more.
Save more.
Enjoy more.
Live more.
Drive less.
Workout more.
Spend more [time with friends and family].
Reconnect with life.
Dance with my wife more.
Watch more Star Trek.
Smile more.
Laugh more.
Be the best Elliot M. Rauscher I can be.
Try to walk in my mother's vibrating slippers.
And I just did two of those. Let's see who can guess which two!
Music to blog by:
Frank Sinatra - As Time Goes By
Discussed in this post:
Sunday, December 17, 2006
And...We're Back.
Sorry all, my computer went into the shop and when I got it back, it had been so long since I had logged in that my blogger password needed to be re-entered, and I couldn't remember it, and I was too busy with school to care enough to set it back up. So...I just got to it. Just now. Right now.
Let's see...I finished the semester, I have no idea what kind of grades I got except that I'm sure they're okay, although I'm afraid my group project might not have turned out well...I'm not sure that anybody turned in our analysis paper for A Streetcar Named Desire, but I did turn in the biography for Tennessee Williams. Hmm. But I know I got a good grade in my Human Rights class, and I already know I got an A in my Film Noir class and a B+ in math. Possibly a B of some kind in Modern Drama (thank my group project to counter-balance my final paper), but again, the group project grade for US Writers might bring me down a bit. Hopefully not, though.
Spent a weekend in Vegas. Did the usual Vegas things, you know, all-you-can-eat buffets, all-you-can-drink bars, fountain at the Bellagio, puked on Wayne Newton, won a fortune at the tables, got chased by gangsters, lost a fortune at the slots, married a floosie, and danced with the Chippendales on the Hoover Dam. Although, now that I come to think of it, that may have been a vodka-tonic induced dream.
I wrote a new play! It's short, needs a bit of work, but with the Surfacing deadline coming up, I should totally get on that and finish it. Plus, the Green Fuse deadline is coming up, so I need to either polish off an old story from Meramec or write something new...I guess, though, that I can either edit a play and a story or write a new story, and since I want to submit to both, I should focus on revisions.
For those of you unaware, Surfacing is the student written-directed-acted-in festival at Webster, and the Green Fuse is the student literary magazine. Oh, I forgot...I've also got a submission into Currents from last spring. Currents is the Meramec student literary magazine. I could be published twice and produced once in the same calender year! That would be awesome! Let's aim for that...although, all I can really do is submit, after that it's out of my hands.
Oh, speaking of things being out of my hands, I stepped down from my specialist position at Target. Most of this has to do with school scheduling, classes and workstudy you know, but part of it has to do with (to use Will Wilcox's famous New Year's 1997 quote) "large amounts of bullshit" that I have put up with recently, the most recent being the reaction of my executive team leader when I told her the news. She lacks tact. She lacks compassion. She lacks the capacity to be a decent person. Just for the record, it has nothing to do with me "bailing out" on my department or the store. Jerry will be leaving, and they need somebody to take over ad prep, and preferrably somebody who knows how to do it, so no, I am not bailing out on the store. I have offered my services to do the early morning return scans for the Entertainment department and help out with street date when it is needed, so I am not bailing out on my department. I feel awful that I am stepping down because Melissa will have trouble without me. It will be hard to train a new specialist, even if it is who we think it's going to be. I even offered to train my replacement. I feel a little bit like I am letting down Melissa, Cleo, my old ETL Katie who battled so hard for me, and Jackie and Shelly who always listened, and Jeff who I'm pretty sure wouldn't have let me step down a year ago when I was first thinking about it. But I think the only way to let my current ETL down would be to continue in my position. This way, it's like I'm playing into her hands.
Except that I'm not playing into her hands, I'm stepping down because my academic career depends on it. But try telling her that. She won't hear it because she doesn't listen to me, and never has. And that is one of the reasons I am stepping down. Not the main reason, but it certainly played a role.
So there we go.
Music to Blog By:
Christmas Music because it is December 17th after all.
Discussed in this post:
Let's see...I finished the semester, I have no idea what kind of grades I got except that I'm sure they're okay, although I'm afraid my group project might not have turned out well...I'm not sure that anybody turned in our analysis paper for A Streetcar Named Desire, but I did turn in the biography for Tennessee Williams. Hmm. But I know I got a good grade in my Human Rights class, and I already know I got an A in my Film Noir class and a B+ in math. Possibly a B of some kind in Modern Drama (thank my group project to counter-balance my final paper), but again, the group project grade for US Writers might bring me down a bit. Hopefully not, though.
Spent a weekend in Vegas. Did the usual Vegas things, you know, all-you-can-eat buffets, all-you-can-drink bars, fountain at the Bellagio, puked on Wayne Newton, won a fortune at the tables, got chased by gangsters, lost a fortune at the slots, married a floosie, and danced with the Chippendales on the Hoover Dam. Although, now that I come to think of it, that may have been a vodka-tonic induced dream.
I wrote a new play! It's short, needs a bit of work, but with the Surfacing deadline coming up, I should totally get on that and finish it. Plus, the Green Fuse deadline is coming up, so I need to either polish off an old story from Meramec or write something new...I guess, though, that I can either edit a play and a story or write a new story, and since I want to submit to both, I should focus on revisions.
For those of you unaware, Surfacing is the student written-directed-acted-in festival at Webster, and the Green Fuse is the student literary magazine. Oh, I forgot...I've also got a submission into Currents from last spring. Currents is the Meramec student literary magazine. I could be published twice and produced once in the same calender year! That would be awesome! Let's aim for that...although, all I can really do is submit, after that it's out of my hands.
Oh, speaking of things being out of my hands, I stepped down from my specialist position at Target. Most of this has to do with school scheduling, classes and workstudy you know, but part of it has to do with (to use Will Wilcox's famous New Year's 1997 quote) "large amounts of bullshit" that I have put up with recently, the most recent being the reaction of my executive team leader when I told her the news. She lacks tact. She lacks compassion. She lacks the capacity to be a decent person. Just for the record, it has nothing to do with me "bailing out" on my department or the store. Jerry will be leaving, and they need somebody to take over ad prep, and preferrably somebody who knows how to do it, so no, I am not bailing out on the store. I have offered my services to do the early morning return scans for the Entertainment department and help out with street date when it is needed, so I am not bailing out on my department. I feel awful that I am stepping down because Melissa will have trouble without me. It will be hard to train a new specialist, even if it is who we think it's going to be. I even offered to train my replacement. I feel a little bit like I am letting down Melissa, Cleo, my old ETL Katie who battled so hard for me, and Jackie and Shelly who always listened, and Jeff who I'm pretty sure wouldn't have let me step down a year ago when I was first thinking about it. But I think the only way to let my current ETL down would be to continue in my position. This way, it's like I'm playing into her hands.
Except that I'm not playing into her hands, I'm stepping down because my academic career depends on it. But try telling her that. She won't hear it because she doesn't listen to me, and never has. And that is one of the reasons I am stepping down. Not the main reason, but it certainly played a role.
So there we go.
Music to Blog By:
Christmas Music because it is December 17th after all.
Discussed in this post:
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
Why Math has Ruined My Life
Because Math loves adding.
Because Math loves adding activities and obligations to my days.
Because Math loves adding everything to my days.
Except.
Math has never added a single extra second to my days.
When Math has subtracted something from my day, Math has then added something twice as time consuming, so it feels like all that has actually been subtracted is seconds, minutes, or hours.
This is why Math has ruined my life.
That, and I have to spend my Tuesday nights getting accosted by horny fourteen year old Webster Groves High School freshmen girls. Which, of course, I may have liked back in 1997 when I was a fourteen year old Webster Groves High School freshman boy, but now that I'm married and quite a bit older and rather cognizant of statutory rape laws, I am less inclined to be amused by or interested in the attentions of said females.
Which brings me to another reason I hate Math.
Because doing Math homework takes time away from Writing, or riding, or doing other homeworks.
Stupid Math.
Music to Blog By: Blind Melon - Three is the Magic Number
(you've got to be kidding me...that's really what's playing...)
Discussed in this post:
Because Math loves adding activities and obligations to my days.
Because Math loves adding everything to my days.
Except.
Math has never added a single extra second to my days.
When Math has subtracted something from my day, Math has then added something twice as time consuming, so it feels like all that has actually been subtracted is seconds, minutes, or hours.
This is why Math has ruined my life.
That, and I have to spend my Tuesday nights getting accosted by horny fourteen year old Webster Groves High School freshmen girls. Which, of course, I may have liked back in 1997 when I was a fourteen year old Webster Groves High School freshman boy, but now that I'm married and quite a bit older and rather cognizant of statutory rape laws, I am less inclined to be amused by or interested in the attentions of said females.
Which brings me to another reason I hate Math.
Because doing Math homework takes time away from Writing, or riding, or doing other homeworks.
Stupid Math.
Music to Blog By: Blind Melon - Three is the Magic Number
(you've got to be kidding me...that's really what's playing...)
Discussed in this post:
Thursday, September 14, 2006
Urban Exploration
Check out the last link over on my links section. I just found this site about Urban Exploration of abandoned buildings, while I was looking for information about the River Roads Mall in Jennings, MO. Also, check out the host site, because it's got more blogs about urban exploration.
I think this is something I would like to know more about. I'm not sure I'm cut out for actually being an explorer myself, not just because I'm a weenie little lanky girly man, but also because I don't really have time. However, it's an interesting idea, and something that I find fascinating. I can remember my uncle Dennis telling me of his college-days Urban Exploration, not only in Lawrence, KS where he went to school, but also in Kansas City and here in St. Louis; particularly the Continental Life Insurance Building in Grand Center. This building is, of course, now a set of very upscale condos, so any exploration I wanted to do there would hinge on me knowing somebody that lives there. Oh well. Perhaps we'll see a story involving this sort of thing...perhaps not, I'm going to do more research on it.
So, no blogitty for weeks and weeks and all of a sudden, THREE blogs in two days.
I guess there's got to be a break in the monotony, but Jesus when it rains how it pours.
Music to Blog By: OK Go - Here It Goes Again
Discussed in this post:
I think this is something I would like to know more about. I'm not sure I'm cut out for actually being an explorer myself, not just because I'm a weenie little lanky girly man, but also because I don't really have time. However, it's an interesting idea, and something that I find fascinating. I can remember my uncle Dennis telling me of his college-days Urban Exploration, not only in Lawrence, KS where he went to school, but also in Kansas City and here in St. Louis; particularly the Continental Life Insurance Building in Grand Center. This building is, of course, now a set of very upscale condos, so any exploration I wanted to do there would hinge on me knowing somebody that lives there. Oh well. Perhaps we'll see a story involving this sort of thing...perhaps not, I'm going to do more research on it.
So, no blogitty for weeks and weeks and all of a sudden, THREE blogs in two days.
I guess there's got to be a break in the monotony, but Jesus when it rains how it pours.
Music to Blog By: OK Go - Here It Goes Again
Discussed in this post:
Are We Dogs, or Are We Men?
Just saw an ad for Quaker Weight Control Oatmeal. Aside from the overall affront to my hope for Americans that we can beat obesity without resulting to gimmicks (I mean, come on, people, it's not that hard to take a ten minute walk once a week and hold off on seconds at dinner time every so often), I noticed something oddly familiar about the font used for the words Weight Control on the boxes. This nagged at me for several minutes.
It wasn't until later, when I went back to the Pet Care department at work, that I noticed that the font and color for the text was the exact same for the same words on the Purina Farms Weight Control Dog Chow. Coincidence?
My friends out there in the Blogniverse (it's a new word, don't try and look it up, but give Webster's a few years and then, when they find out I'm the first one that used it, my repuation as a writer will be etched in stone for all eternity), let us not bow to the condescension enforced upon us by the joint evil that is the Quaker/Purina alliance (Quakers/Purina...Quakers and Puritans?). Let us rise above, excercise, eat right, and above all, don't let Corporate America turn you into a dog.
If you stand with me, and fight, a mighty blow will be struck in the name of Freedom and Liberty (Liberty = Liberal = Not a Bad Word, You Bastard Conservatives, plus with all your spending on cutting down trees, digging up oil and destroying other countries, just what is it you're Conserving?). If you choose to ignore this, and let The Quakers and The Puritans take you down a whole peg, well...then, the Terrorists win.
This Blog has been brought to you by the joint venture Iams Science Diet/Nabisco Corporations.
It wasn't until later, when I went back to the Pet Care department at work, that I noticed that the font and color for the text was the exact same for the same words on the Purina Farms Weight Control Dog Chow. Coincidence?
My friends out there in the Blogniverse (it's a new word, don't try and look it up, but give Webster's a few years and then, when they find out I'm the first one that used it, my repuation as a writer will be etched in stone for all eternity), let us not bow to the condescension enforced upon us by the joint evil that is the Quaker/Purina alliance (Quakers/Purina...Quakers and Puritans?). Let us rise above, excercise, eat right, and above all, don't let Corporate America turn you into a dog.
If you stand with me, and fight, a mighty blow will be struck in the name of Freedom and Liberty (Liberty = Liberal = Not a Bad Word, You Bastard Conservatives, plus with all your spending on cutting down trees, digging up oil and destroying other countries, just what is it you're Conserving?). If you choose to ignore this, and let The Quakers and The Puritans take you down a whole peg, well...then, the Terrorists win.
This Blog has been brought to you by the joint venture Iams Science Diet/Nabisco Corporations.
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
Oops, I Pulled a Jerry...
Had to be done.
So, sorry to all, here's an update:
I started school at the end of August, new school, Webster University. The classes are fantastic but the business office can lick my nutpick (also been listening to the Weekly Puzzle on NPR's Weekend Edition). Things I have learned so far in my classes are; Christopher Columbus receives the distinction of being the first emo-kid in the New World (just read his letters to Isabelle and Ferdinand in 1502); Henrik Ibsen is not too cool for school, in fact he is not cool enough for school; WGHS Room 251 harbors bad karma for me, even now, five years after I graduated and seven years after I had a class in that room; Fred McMurray is creepy when he tries to be smooth with the ladies.
Things I have learned outside of class; Parking is a bitch, no matter how many new parking lots they open; workstudy is a lot more study than work it seems; going to school full time and working full time and having workstudy and trying to take care of a house is not as easy as it sounds; Kathleen Weber is not to be trusted with your film noir book; I'm still at least as good at Improv as I was in high school; as much as I miss the dorm experience, I wouldn't want to live with the freshmen; Allegra Grazanti (who went to my high school no less) severely underestimates the appeal the words "Free Pizza" have on a flyer, even if the flyer is advertising something as mundane as Literature Club; Chris Richards must not go to school there, because I find it hard to believe that we are in the same year, same major, and the same emphasis even, and yet have never seen each other on campus; reading Freud or Emerson at work makes you look like the biggest geek ever.
Also, I did not partake in the three day novel contest. Nor did I participate in the Gateway Cup. I did homework, Tour de Judy, went to a bar with some friends, and hung out with my family.
And today, I overslept due to the inordinate amount of homework I have (which I am neglecting to do right now, actually), had a slow-onset panic attack that reached full blown proportions around 10:45 this morning, and so I had to go home. Boo.
I really want to step down. Maybe even find a new job closer to campus. Hmm.
Anybody have any ideas?
So, sorry to all, here's an update:
I started school at the end of August, new school, Webster University. The classes are fantastic but the business office can lick my nutpick (also been listening to the Weekly Puzzle on NPR's Weekend Edition). Things I have learned so far in my classes are; Christopher Columbus receives the distinction of being the first emo-kid in the New World (just read his letters to Isabelle and Ferdinand in 1502); Henrik Ibsen is not too cool for school, in fact he is not cool enough for school; WGHS Room 251 harbors bad karma for me, even now, five years after I graduated and seven years after I had a class in that room; Fred McMurray is creepy when he tries to be smooth with the ladies.
Things I have learned outside of class; Parking is a bitch, no matter how many new parking lots they open; workstudy is a lot more study than work it seems; going to school full time and working full time and having workstudy and trying to take care of a house is not as easy as it sounds; Kathleen Weber is not to be trusted with your film noir book; I'm still at least as good at Improv as I was in high school; as much as I miss the dorm experience, I wouldn't want to live with the freshmen; Allegra Grazanti (who went to my high school no less) severely underestimates the appeal the words "Free Pizza" have on a flyer, even if the flyer is advertising something as mundane as Literature Club; Chris Richards must not go to school there, because I find it hard to believe that we are in the same year, same major, and the same emphasis even, and yet have never seen each other on campus; reading Freud or Emerson at work makes you look like the biggest geek ever.
Also, I did not partake in the three day novel contest. Nor did I participate in the Gateway Cup. I did homework, Tour de Judy, went to a bar with some friends, and hung out with my family.
And today, I overslept due to the inordinate amount of homework I have (which I am neglecting to do right now, actually), had a slow-onset panic attack that reached full blown proportions around 10:45 this morning, and so I had to go home. Boo.
I really want to step down. Maybe even find a new job closer to campus. Hmm.
Anybody have any ideas?
Sunday, July 16, 2006
Cry Sadness Right Now
Haha, that's the first line of a Haiku I wrote Monday, titled "Haiku, Emo Style." Ask Rich about it. But really, the reason I am crying sadness (though not really, 'tis just a saying) is that I don't think enough people read my cycling blog, which is sad because it's exceedingly clever and insightful. Well, no, but it's a nice bit of writing that's not written about writing, but rather about riding, and so it's much less cumbersome to read (at least for me) than this blog is. That having been said, I think I should be writing more than just in blog form, but I am glad I started my cycling blog as it gives me a reason to sit down several times a week and flex my creative muscle. So, if for nothing else, go read it because you're my friend and don't want to piss me off.
And so, for bringing me here, Bill Gates Must Die!
Music to Blog By: John Vanderslice - Bill Gates Must Die!
Discussed in this post:
And so, for bringing me here, Bill Gates Must Die!
Music to Blog By: John Vanderslice - Bill Gates Must Die!
Discussed in this post:
Saturday, July 08, 2006
The Unbearable Lightness of Being a Writer
How clever am I?
Unfortunately, being that it's July, and I already have a limited amount of free time, that free time has not been spent writing since July First, but rather catching up on le Tour de France, or ranting about it on my cycling blog, or watching it, or playing with my bike. Add to that the fact my cat is kinda sick (kinda = lots), that means I haven't been writing.
Now, I have the germ of an idea in my head. It involves (of course) cycling. But instead of being about Banning Jacobs (my resident semi-pro cyclist) it's probably going to be about James, Will and Colin's friend from Karlston, MO who went to college with them. He's one of my rarely used characters, the only major problem he's ever encountered was that his high school girlfriend broke up with him for some troglodyte-19-year-old-sophomore-type, and that problem was gracefully overshadowed by William's college application essay dilemma. So, I think it's time to add depth to him, instead of just have him being this comic foil, someone to further the plot without disrupting it. You may recall, he played a key role in setting up Michael Rose with Brooke Fairman, and then promptly vanished from the story line.
So, what's going on with James? Well, after college, he met Brooke's friend Cynthia, and finally attempting to get his feet wet after a particularly tragic break-up, he acquiesced to Colin and Brooke's urging and took Cynthia out on a date. Four months later, they were married. And this is where we jump into the new story, after the marriage, after Brooke leaves Minnesota for Honolulu, after Colin, Tom and Michael get bested by her as she's leaving, and just as James rides his bike through Minnehaha park.
Music to Blog By: Brewer - One Toke Over the Line
Discussed in this post:
Unfortunately, being that it's July, and I already have a limited amount of free time, that free time has not been spent writing since July First, but rather catching up on le Tour de France, or ranting about it on my cycling blog, or watching it, or playing with my bike. Add to that the fact my cat is kinda sick (kinda = lots), that means I haven't been writing.
Now, I have the germ of an idea in my head. It involves (of course) cycling. But instead of being about Banning Jacobs (my resident semi-pro cyclist) it's probably going to be about James, Will and Colin's friend from Karlston, MO who went to college with them. He's one of my rarely used characters, the only major problem he's ever encountered was that his high school girlfriend broke up with him for some troglodyte-19-year-old-sophomore-type, and that problem was gracefully overshadowed by William's college application essay dilemma. So, I think it's time to add depth to him, instead of just have him being this comic foil, someone to further the plot without disrupting it. You may recall, he played a key role in setting up Michael Rose with Brooke Fairman, and then promptly vanished from the story line.
So, what's going on with James? Well, after college, he met Brooke's friend Cynthia, and finally attempting to get his feet wet after a particularly tragic break-up, he acquiesced to Colin and Brooke's urging and took Cynthia out on a date. Four months later, they were married. And this is where we jump into the new story, after the marriage, after Brooke leaves Minnesota for Honolulu, after Colin, Tom and Michael get bested by her as she's leaving, and just as James rides his bike through Minnehaha park.
Music to Blog By: Brewer - One Toke Over the Line
Discussed in this post:
Monday, June 26, 2006
AHEM...TO THOSE INTERESTED IN A WRITING GROUP...
Alright, folks, well, I went through some careful planning, e-mailed a bunch of people, got a handful of responses, set the first meeting for June 25th, and one person showed up. Well, no, okay, two people, Angelic and her other half, Joe, but for the love of all things good and decent, why didn't anybody else come? You see, it would have been nice to have at least one other person there, so we could maybe discuss some things. Oh well...ridiculous. I know that a few people who had wanted to come couldn't make it, and they had told me they couldn't make it, but there were several who just didn't show. Okay. Maybe we should try this again. Two weeks from yesterday, I say we have another go. Anybody want to host it?
Thursday, May 25, 2006
To Those Interested In A Writing Group...
Hello everybody. I really meant to post this right away, after the semester ended, but my father-in-law had a heart attack the day we got our portfolios back, so, that sort of drove everything from my mind. Anyway, this is about the writing group I mentioned before. Is everybody still game? Here's my idea: we get a bunch of people together (all of us writers, so feel free to invite others if you think they'll enjoy it) maybe once a month, not always at the same place (take turns hosting or something, I don't know), and do a workshop sort of thing. I discussed this (briefly) with Chris, because she had asked if it was going to be strictly fiction or if other styles would be okay (poetry, non-fiction, et al). I don't want this to be too specific, as far as saying it has to be short stories or it has to be this or that or whatever, but instead leave it up to the writer to decide what to write, and the only thing the rest of us need to worry about is the workshop aspect of it.
The reasoning behind this is, to me anyway, that the workshop helps me understand my own writing better, and I guess it does the same for the rest of you. As writers, we're always striving for something, wether it be the perfect story or the perfect moment in the story, or the perfect line of poetry, or capturing the way you felt when your uncle tossed you into the pool though you couldn't swim and you were wearing cuordoroy pants and spiderman boots (not that that ever happened to me...), or whatever. I ramble, sorry. See, I think our first workshop could be done solely on this e-mail alone. Anyway, if people are still interested, e-mail me back, and we'll try to work out some details somehow. I would love to maybe get some better way of getting in touch with people, something more instantaneous and interactive (oh god, I sound like a technofile all of a sudden...I'm talking about a group message board, ack!). We'll think of something. Right now, I am thinking maybe one Sunday a month, get together, have some food, some drinks, some readings and lively discussions, and of course only the occasional throwing of something breakable to the ground accompanied by screams of "You just don't get my writing, nobody does! I'm the next f*cking Faulkner and you're all just too blind to see!"
Also, as I said, if you have any friends you think may be interested not from class, feel free to invite them along. And, in addition, um, Mark and Angelic...I seem to have misplaced everybody's e-mail from fall semester. Well, except for you two. Bad e-managment on my part. Anyway, yes. So, an almost carbon-copy of this e-mail is going into my blog and on my myspace profile (there's that technofile thing again) and hopefully that gets the word out a bit more.
Hope to hear from you all soon!
Music to Blog By: The Stranglers - Golden Brown
The reasoning behind this is, to me anyway, that the workshop helps me understand my own writing better, and I guess it does the same for the rest of you. As writers, we're always striving for something, wether it be the perfect story or the perfect moment in the story, or the perfect line of poetry, or capturing the way you felt when your uncle tossed you into the pool though you couldn't swim and you were wearing cuordoroy pants and spiderman boots (not that that ever happened to me...), or whatever. I ramble, sorry. See, I think our first workshop could be done solely on this e-mail alone. Anyway, if people are still interested, e-mail me back, and we'll try to work out some details somehow. I would love to maybe get some better way of getting in touch with people, something more instantaneous and interactive (oh god, I sound like a technofile all of a sudden...I'm talking about a group message board, ack!). We'll think of something. Right now, I am thinking maybe one Sunday a month, get together, have some food, some drinks, some readings and lively discussions, and of course only the occasional throwing of something breakable to the ground accompanied by screams of "You just don't get my writing, nobody does! I'm the next f*cking Faulkner and you're all just too blind to see!"
Also, as I said, if you have any friends you think may be interested not from class, feel free to invite them along. And, in addition, um, Mark and Angelic...I seem to have misplaced everybody's e-mail from fall semester. Well, except for you two. Bad e-managment on my part. Anyway, yes. So, an almost carbon-copy of this e-mail is going into my blog and on my myspace profile (there's that technofile thing again) and hopefully that gets the word out a bit more.
Hope to hear from you all soon!
Music to Blog By: The Stranglers - Golden Brown
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
Thursday, May 11, 2006
Norfolk, NE
This seems to be a recurring theme, huh? I write a post and the title is, enigmatically at first, just the name of a city and a state. And so, the pondering begins. Is Elliot visiting relatives? Is he imagining another town for his fiction?
My father-in-law went in for surgery on Tuesday. This was planned, because he had bone spurs on his spine that had to be removed, because they were causing him a lot of pain. He was unable to walk or lie flat. So, on Tuesday evening, just as they were finishing the surgery (which went well except for the fact that his bones were tougher than expected), he had a heart attack. Terrifying, yes, but right place and right time. They were able to respond instantaneously. My mother-in-law began the calls around 7:30, going down the list of her ten children, so Kathy was number 7 (but got told 8th because Dan lives in Norfolk) and we were called close to 8. We made plans to leave immediately.
I would like to, at this point, thank Target. I called to let them know I had to go out of town for a few days, and that I would miss my Thursday and Friday shifts. I was told that family is important and that it would be no problem.
We left first thing Wednesday morning, arrived just as they were removing his breathing tube, so he could talk. All ten kids are here now (well, the two youngest are back home, because they have school in the morning but they were here) and everything is looking up, but still. What a harrowing experience for everybody. It's nice to see how much this family cares and it's great that we can smile and laugh and act so normal in the face of things. It's great, it's fantastic, and I think, down the road, I may have a story to write about it.
Greetings from Nebraska.
My father-in-law went in for surgery on Tuesday. This was planned, because he had bone spurs on his spine that had to be removed, because they were causing him a lot of pain. He was unable to walk or lie flat. So, on Tuesday evening, just as they were finishing the surgery (which went well except for the fact that his bones were tougher than expected), he had a heart attack. Terrifying, yes, but right place and right time. They were able to respond instantaneously. My mother-in-law began the calls around 7:30, going down the list of her ten children, so Kathy was number 7 (but got told 8th because Dan lives in Norfolk) and we were called close to 8. We made plans to leave immediately.
I would like to, at this point, thank Target. I called to let them know I had to go out of town for a few days, and that I would miss my Thursday and Friday shifts. I was told that family is important and that it would be no problem.
We left first thing Wednesday morning, arrived just as they were removing his breathing tube, so he could talk. All ten kids are here now (well, the two youngest are back home, because they have school in the morning but they were here) and everything is looking up, but still. What a harrowing experience for everybody. It's nice to see how much this family cares and it's great that we can smile and laugh and act so normal in the face of things. It's great, it's fantastic, and I think, down the road, I may have a story to write about it.
Greetings from Nebraska.
Saturday, May 06, 2006
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