Friday, September 30, 2005
Goodbye Rehearsals
After finally getting the synopsis, the powers that be decided that Thursday would be the last of the rehearsals. It was a vaguely maudlin affair in that after hanging out with the actors all this time, it was a bit weird to know we weren't going to be seeing them anymore. But it also means that my evenings and weekends are once again mine.
Not that this means much, since it means those evenings and weekends will be spent writing scripts.
After finally getting the synopsis, the powers that be decided that Thursday would be the last of the rehearsals. It was a vaguely maudlin affair in that after hanging out with the actors all this time, it was a bit weird to know we weren't going to be seeing them anymore. But it also means that my evenings and weekends are once again mine.
Not that this means much, since it means those evenings and weekends will be spent writing scripts.
Labels: Television Production
Thursday, September 29, 2005
Firing Of The Gun
The producer hauled us in and gave us the filtered totality of the comments from all the other Powers That Be, and the changes were surprisingly not as a bad as the other writer and I had feared. Most of our stuff survived intact, at least for the outline.
Now we have to write it.
We've divided up the chores once again by character. So it looks like we'll simply write out each episode with only the parts that our characters occupy. That takes place over the weekend and the first half of the week. In the second half, we spend a couple of days meeting up and integrating each episode so that we can submit to the producers/directors/God knows who else and let them dissect it and get back to us with changes.
So guess what I'm doing the next few days?
The producer hauled us in and gave us the filtered totality of the comments from all the other Powers That Be, and the changes were surprisingly not as a bad as the other writer and I had feared. Most of our stuff survived intact, at least for the outline.
Now we have to write it.
We've divided up the chores once again by character. So it looks like we'll simply write out each episode with only the parts that our characters occupy. That takes place over the weekend and the first half of the week. In the second half, we spend a couple of days meeting up and integrating each episode so that we can submit to the producers/directors/God knows who else and let them dissect it and get back to us with changes.
So guess what I'm doing the next few days?
Labels: Television Production
Wednesday, September 28, 2005
Synopsis Fun
So we finished it the synopsis.
It took all day, and we ended up missing the rehearsal for that day, since the mandate was to get it finished on that day. Whether it was any good or not was another matter entirely, but oh well...
So we finished it the synopsis.
It took all day, and we ended up missing the rehearsal for that day, since the mandate was to get it finished on that day. Whether it was any good or not was another matter entirely, but oh well...
Labels: Television Production, Writing
Tuesday, September 27, 2005
Long Day Part II
First and foremost, I am 100% legal once again. I went down to the Canadian High Commission and picked up my nice, shiny new passport, which means I can get legally married because I have an official document of identity that I can flash to prove that I exist.
Then I went down to the office of the company that's producing the mini-series. The original plan was to spend a couple of hours there with the other writer, integrating our two separate outlines into one. We spent nearly all that time just tweaking and adjusting the outline for episode ONE. At that point it was pretty obvious we weren't going to be able to finish this anywhere near in time to make it down the rehearsal space, so we made the call and decided to ditch rehearsals today to get it out.
We didn't. We were there till well after 9 pm, and in the end we only managed to get three of eight episodes outlined to our satisfaction. So we're going to go back in at noon tomorrow and see if we can't finish the rest of it before the seven o' clock rehearsals start, and if we don't make it, we just stay there until it IS done, because they say they want to see it, and they want to see it TOMORROW.
They just didn't specify when tomorrow, so we're telling ourselves that as long as it comes before 11:59 pm on September 28th, it still counts as tomorrow.
And now if you'll excuse me, I still have more games to play...
First and foremost, I am 100% legal once again. I went down to the Canadian High Commission and picked up my nice, shiny new passport, which means I can get legally married because I have an official document of identity that I can flash to prove that I exist.
Then I went down to the office of the company that's producing the mini-series. The original plan was to spend a couple of hours there with the other writer, integrating our two separate outlines into one. We spent nearly all that time just tweaking and adjusting the outline for episode ONE. At that point it was pretty obvious we weren't going to be able to finish this anywhere near in time to make it down the rehearsal space, so we made the call and decided to ditch rehearsals today to get it out.
We didn't. We were there till well after 9 pm, and in the end we only managed to get three of eight episodes outlined to our satisfaction. So we're going to go back in at noon tomorrow and see if we can't finish the rest of it before the seven o' clock rehearsals start, and if we don't make it, we just stay there until it IS done, because they say they want to see it, and they want to see it TOMORROW.
They just didn't specify when tomorrow, so we're telling ourselves that as long as it comes before 11:59 pm on September 28th, it still counts as tomorrow.
And now if you'll excuse me, I still have more games to play...
Labels: My Life, Television Production
Monday, September 26, 2005
Looooong Day
I thought it was just going to be a quick meeting in the afternoon to talk about the mini-series, and that the rehearsals were cancelled for the evening. I am a complete idiot.
The meeting lasted for a few hours. The structure I wrote and the structure of the other writer still need to mesh, but at least something was there for the Producer and other Powers That Be to look at. It went pretty much as I expected, with things being hacked out or changed left, right and center, but then I wrote my end with the somewhat pessimistic "let's pretend" point of view that I had to write the entire series with ONLY the characters I'd "picked" at my disposal, and none of the other writers. So, it was grossly inflated and quite a few things were thrown in just as filler, I knew it wouldn't last, and I didn't expect it to.
After that, it was down to the rehearsal space a couple of hours early, and then the rehearsal itself. It was NOT cancelled, because the Powers That Be, now that they had a semblance of structure provided for them, wanted to finally tell the actors what the plan was. And once they knew what the plan was for them, their characters, and their arcs, they wanted to dive right into it.
It was, I think, something of a success. They tried one character, one of the ones I'm writing, and the actor assigned to it more or less nailed it. He was my comedy element, and he understood what I was going for, so it was a kick to actually see the character come to life like that, and have it be not half bad.
It ran a bit longer than usual, and when I came home, the Fiance had surprised me to with two games I'd had my eye on; We (heart) Katamari, and Indigo Prophecy. Which sort of begs the question, WHAT THE HELL AM I DOING WRITING THIS AND NOT PLAYING MY NEW GAMES?!?!
Excuse me...
I thought it was just going to be a quick meeting in the afternoon to talk about the mini-series, and that the rehearsals were cancelled for the evening. I am a complete idiot.
The meeting lasted for a few hours. The structure I wrote and the structure of the other writer still need to mesh, but at least something was there for the Producer and other Powers That Be to look at. It went pretty much as I expected, with things being hacked out or changed left, right and center, but then I wrote my end with the somewhat pessimistic "let's pretend" point of view that I had to write the entire series with ONLY the characters I'd "picked" at my disposal, and none of the other writers. So, it was grossly inflated and quite a few things were thrown in just as filler, I knew it wouldn't last, and I didn't expect it to.
After that, it was down to the rehearsal space a couple of hours early, and then the rehearsal itself. It was NOT cancelled, because the Powers That Be, now that they had a semblance of structure provided for them, wanted to finally tell the actors what the plan was. And once they knew what the plan was for them, their characters, and their arcs, they wanted to dive right into it.
It was, I think, something of a success. They tried one character, one of the ones I'm writing, and the actor assigned to it more or less nailed it. He was my comedy element, and he understood what I was going for, so it was a kick to actually see the character come to life like that, and have it be not half bad.
It ran a bit longer than usual, and when I came home, the Fiance had surprised me to with two games I'd had my eye on; We (heart) Katamari, and Indigo Prophecy. Which sort of begs the question, WHAT THE HELL AM I DOING WRITING THIS AND NOT PLAYING MY NEW GAMES?!?!
Excuse me...
Labels: Games, Television Production
Sunday, September 25, 2005
Fearful Actors
Today was vaguely satisfying in a mean spirited sort of way because we finally got to see the actors sweat a little.
Now that every actor has gone through the motions and more or less found a character, it's time for the improv sessions to move into the next phase. What that next phase is is actually sort of up in the air because the chain of command is not entirely established, so we don't know who can green light what, or how far anyone can go. The actors also stopped and started thinking about story today, rather than worrying simply about performance and when they did, they arrived at the same conclusion that the other writer and I came to days ago; how the hell is this all going to work?
I know I shouldn't be taking such evil joy in this, but after seeing the same look of concern light their faces that has been on mine for the last week, I feel somewhat cheerier knowing that I'm not the only one sweating bullets right now.
Okay, so I'm evil...
Today was vaguely satisfying in a mean spirited sort of way because we finally got to see the actors sweat a little.
Now that every actor has gone through the motions and more or less found a character, it's time for the improv sessions to move into the next phase. What that next phase is is actually sort of up in the air because the chain of command is not entirely established, so we don't know who can green light what, or how far anyone can go. The actors also stopped and started thinking about story today, rather than worrying simply about performance and when they did, they arrived at the same conclusion that the other writer and I came to days ago; how the hell is this all going to work?
I know I shouldn't be taking such evil joy in this, but after seeing the same look of concern light their faces that has been on mine for the last week, I feel somewhat cheerier knowing that I'm not the only one sweating bullets right now.
Okay, so I'm evil...
Labels: Television Production
Saturday, September 24, 2005
The Writers Talk Too Much
This is the general impression I am beginning to form after a few days of this "Watch rehearsal, comment on what you have seen" stuff that's been going on with the mini-series. At least, I think I talk too much.
The documenters have been taking me and the other writer aside and telling us that they're really glad that we're am sounding off about our opinions--and more tellingly, our concerns and anxieties--about the project, because it would seem that everyone else is entirely too self-aware and self-conscious. This, at first, was a shock to me until I reminded myself that it is, after all, Singapore, and even here, the most extroverted of all professions--that is, acting--still can be all too full on self-censor mode when they know that this stuff is going on record and could potentially be used in some unforeseen witch hunt run by God knows who in the government at some point in the future. The end result being that a lot of the stuff tends to run more "nice-nice" with everyone talking about how great everyone is, and how great everything is going, and how great the process is working out, and that things are just... great.
I on the other hand sit in front of the camera and say, "I think I'm screwed, and here's why," and start off with a laundry list of anxieties.
Oh, and today I saw a baby dropped off a bus.
Yes, that's right, an actual human infant got physically dropped from a bus to the ground.
I take a bus home from the rehearsal space because it's too far to walk, but too close to justify a cab. So while I was waiting, there was an east Indian couple with a stroller for two kids. As their bus pulled up, the mom grabbed one kid, the older one, while the father took the younger baby and collapsed the stroller. The mom went up, and the dad followed. I was sitting there watching how clumsy and ungainly he was trying to carry that big stroller under one arm, and carrying his baby in the other, and I was amazed that he didn't drop the kid.
So of course, he went and did.
He was at the top of the bus, and was fishing for his wallet for the bus fare. As he swung over, the kid literally leaned right out of his grip and fell to the first step of the bus, banged against that, fell to the second step, slid off and dropped to ground on his or her back.
Everyone was stunned, because we couldn't believe we'd just seen someone drop a baby.
Then this old couple standing right in front of the baby jumped in to pick the kid up (Who wasn't making any noise) and then handed it to the dad. He picked up the kid and then the mom looked as if she was about to get off, when the dad ferried her back into the bus, and followed her in. The bus just drove off as if nothing had happened, and everyone looked at each other like "Did we really just see that?"
You see some odd things on these streets sometimes, man.
This is the general impression I am beginning to form after a few days of this "Watch rehearsal, comment on what you have seen" stuff that's been going on with the mini-series. At least, I think I talk too much.
The documenters have been taking me and the other writer aside and telling us that they're really glad that we're am sounding off about our opinions--and more tellingly, our concerns and anxieties--about the project, because it would seem that everyone else is entirely too self-aware and self-conscious. This, at first, was a shock to me until I reminded myself that it is, after all, Singapore, and even here, the most extroverted of all professions--that is, acting--still can be all too full on self-censor mode when they know that this stuff is going on record and could potentially be used in some unforeseen witch hunt run by God knows who in the government at some point in the future. The end result being that a lot of the stuff tends to run more "nice-nice" with everyone talking about how great everyone is, and how great everything is going, and how great the process is working out, and that things are just... great.
I on the other hand sit in front of the camera and say, "I think I'm screwed, and here's why," and start off with a laundry list of anxieties.
Oh, and today I saw a baby dropped off a bus.
Yes, that's right, an actual human infant got physically dropped from a bus to the ground.
I take a bus home from the rehearsal space because it's too far to walk, but too close to justify a cab. So while I was waiting, there was an east Indian couple with a stroller for two kids. As their bus pulled up, the mom grabbed one kid, the older one, while the father took the younger baby and collapsed the stroller. The mom went up, and the dad followed. I was sitting there watching how clumsy and ungainly he was trying to carry that big stroller under one arm, and carrying his baby in the other, and I was amazed that he didn't drop the kid.
So of course, he went and did.
He was at the top of the bus, and was fishing for his wallet for the bus fare. As he swung over, the kid literally leaned right out of his grip and fell to the first step of the bus, banged against that, fell to the second step, slid off and dropped to ground on his or her back.
Everyone was stunned, because we couldn't believe we'd just seen someone drop a baby.
Then this old couple standing right in front of the baby jumped in to pick the kid up (Who wasn't making any noise) and then handed it to the dad. He picked up the kid and then the mom looked as if she was about to get off, when the dad ferried her back into the bus, and followed her in. The bus just drove off as if nothing had happened, and everyone looked at each other like "Did we really just see that?"
You see some odd things on these streets sometimes, man.
Labels: Singapore Stupidity, Television Production
Thursday, September 22, 2005
DVDs, Wedding Stuff & Outlines
In what is an unabashedly geeky moment of pure SF Joy, I saw the review on IGN for the Battlestar Galactica season 1 set. I was expecting the review to be good and it was. But what's more important is that the review means the set is now available for shameless mass consumerism, and that means it will be available in Singapore at some point in the near future, and I want this set BAD. I haven't wanted a DVD set for a television series this badly since Babylon 5, but then from what I've seen, Galactica has the potential to equal, and perhaps surpass what I saw in Babylon 5, so I'm a happy little nerd bouncing around the island hoping that some day reeeeeeeeeeal soon, I'll be able to walk into the store and see that DVD set up there so I can squeal like a pig and roll around on my back until the foaming at my mouth stops.
In other news, yesterday the Fiance and I met up with the Solemnizer. I'm not sure how the others work, but this guy wanted to meet up with us and have a little talk first, to discuss the wedding plans, who we were, why we wanted to get married, how long we'd known each other, and stuff like that. He also needed to meet us so that he could sign some form saying that he had legally and voluntarily given us his operating number as a Solemnizer so that we could file for the marriage registration online, but have black & white proof of his having given us the number when the time came to pick up the physical documents. We also ran into his wife, the JOanne from my previous hunt, who wished us luck and once again expressed her okay-ness with the rather bizarre set of circumstances regarding why she was unsuitable for the wedding.
And of course, the mini-series continues apace. I'm hoping to have the outline (Or at least my end of it) done by tonight. The rehearsals have been going to some very weird places, but as it's for the benefit of the actors, and to give us some idea of what their character is like (and because everyone is aware of the HUGE difference between television and stage work in Singapore and what is acceptable in either medium) we don't expect to use everything, nor could we really. Some of the stuff they do is either well into the red zone, or financially impossible to pull with the budgets of local television. It's really a shame. They're generating some very nice moments, and there quite a few character pieces I'd love to use, but they are just impossible to pull off because the humanity they portray is in direct contrast with the reality that the broadcasters are obligated to present.
It's inevitable, I think, that the final product is going to be grossly watered down. I just hope that the people in charge are aware of that, because it's something me and the other writer always have in the back of our heads, and we also know that the company that's providing the equipment for this has had enough experience with the Singapore broadcasting system to know what they are going to say "NO" to when they see the scripts and episodes start rolling out.
Oh well...
In what is an unabashedly geeky moment of pure SF Joy, I saw the review on IGN for the Battlestar Galactica season 1 set. I was expecting the review to be good and it was. But what's more important is that the review means the set is now available for shameless mass consumerism, and that means it will be available in Singapore at some point in the near future, and I want this set BAD. I haven't wanted a DVD set for a television series this badly since Babylon 5, but then from what I've seen, Galactica has the potential to equal, and perhaps surpass what I saw in Babylon 5, so I'm a happy little nerd bouncing around the island hoping that some day reeeeeeeeeeal soon, I'll be able to walk into the store and see that DVD set up there so I can squeal like a pig and roll around on my back until the foaming at my mouth stops.
In other news, yesterday the Fiance and I met up with the Solemnizer. I'm not sure how the others work, but this guy wanted to meet up with us and have a little talk first, to discuss the wedding plans, who we were, why we wanted to get married, how long we'd known each other, and stuff like that. He also needed to meet us so that he could sign some form saying that he had legally and voluntarily given us his operating number as a Solemnizer so that we could file for the marriage registration online, but have black & white proof of his having given us the number when the time came to pick up the physical documents. We also ran into his wife, the JOanne from my previous hunt, who wished us luck and once again expressed her okay-ness with the rather bizarre set of circumstances regarding why she was unsuitable for the wedding.
And of course, the mini-series continues apace. I'm hoping to have the outline (Or at least my end of it) done by tonight. The rehearsals have been going to some very weird places, but as it's for the benefit of the actors, and to give us some idea of what their character is like (and because everyone is aware of the HUGE difference between television and stage work in Singapore and what is acceptable in either medium) we don't expect to use everything, nor could we really. Some of the stuff they do is either well into the red zone, or financially impossible to pull with the budgets of local television. It's really a shame. They're generating some very nice moments, and there quite a few character pieces I'd love to use, but they are just impossible to pull off because the humanity they portray is in direct contrast with the reality that the broadcasters are obligated to present.
It's inevitable, I think, that the final product is going to be grossly watered down. I just hope that the people in charge are aware of that, because it's something me and the other writer always have in the back of our heads, and we also know that the company that's providing the equipment for this has had enough experience with the Singapore broadcasting system to know what they are going to say "NO" to when they see the scripts and episodes start rolling out.
Oh well...
Labels: Battlestar Galactica, Icky Couple Stuff, My Life, Sci-Fi Television, Television Production
Wednesday, September 21, 2005
I Am Supplementary Bonus Material
Over the last few days as this drama project has been going on, there have been several meetings, and two rehearsals. At all of these events, there was always someone with either an expensive DV Camera, or a full on, broadcast quality video cam that would shoot the proceedings. All of this, I was told, was for documentary purposes.
I just found out that the documentary is going to follow the show.
To be more precise, the mini-series is geared for an 8 episode run, with the time slot being one hour. However, the reality is, a one hour time slot is actually only about 45 minutes of actual content, the rest is commercials. So they've decided to shoot for 8 half hour episodes, followed by 15 minutes of documentary footage about the creation of the show.
One of the really bizarre things about this is, me and the other writer kept getting taken aside and asked about our opinions of the show and what our dramatic/narrative potential is going to be like. I have, of course, no idea what any of the answers to these questions would be, and so just make it up on the spot and hope it sounds at least reasonably intelligent, or, failing that, reasonably pretentious, as that's what most people will expect anyway. That's done mostly because it would scare people to think they are giving me money if my answer always comes out, "Beats the hell out of me, I'm clueless here."
Still, it's pretty amusing to think that after each episode ends in this series, at some point people will have to deal with me waxing pretentious about the creative process, when in fact, it really IS as simple as, "Uh... I'm just making it up as I go along, and hoping it holds together."
Now I'm wondering if maybe I shouldn't ask about getting some this stuff burned to DVD or something...
Oh, and speaking of movies and supplementary materials, for those of you who are local, or not local and just curious, some guy who works at Amazon has compiled a list of movies that he has had returned to him from Singapore by the government. If you're even remotely curious about what movies are considered too evil to be viewed by humans in Singapore, here you go.
Over the last few days as this drama project has been going on, there have been several meetings, and two rehearsals. At all of these events, there was always someone with either an expensive DV Camera, or a full on, broadcast quality video cam that would shoot the proceedings. All of this, I was told, was for documentary purposes.
I just found out that the documentary is going to follow the show.
To be more precise, the mini-series is geared for an 8 episode run, with the time slot being one hour. However, the reality is, a one hour time slot is actually only about 45 minutes of actual content, the rest is commercials. So they've decided to shoot for 8 half hour episodes, followed by 15 minutes of documentary footage about the creation of the show.
One of the really bizarre things about this is, me and the other writer kept getting taken aside and asked about our opinions of the show and what our dramatic/narrative potential is going to be like. I have, of course, no idea what any of the answers to these questions would be, and so just make it up on the spot and hope it sounds at least reasonably intelligent, or, failing that, reasonably pretentious, as that's what most people will expect anyway. That's done mostly because it would scare people to think they are giving me money if my answer always comes out, "Beats the hell out of me, I'm clueless here."
Still, it's pretty amusing to think that after each episode ends in this series, at some point people will have to deal with me waxing pretentious about the creative process, when in fact, it really IS as simple as, "Uh... I'm just making it up as I go along, and hoping it holds together."
Now I'm wondering if maybe I shouldn't ask about getting some this stuff burned to DVD or something...
Oh, and speaking of movies and supplementary materials, for those of you who are local, or not local and just curious, some guy who works at Amazon has compiled a list of movies that he has had returned to him from Singapore by the government. If you're even remotely curious about what movies are considered too evil to be viewed by humans in Singapore, here you go.
Labels: Movies, Singapore Stupidity, Television Production
Solemnizers Are Not Called "Jo"
I still get kind of freaked out by the Singapore title for people legally empowered to marry others off. I mean, "Solemnizer"... It sounds like a professional mourner or something. Somebody that stands there with a dour face and makes deep, throaty grunts with a quick nod or shake of the head and a penetrating gaze that looks into the pit of your soul and says, "You're going to die soon."
However of course, that is not the case. Well, it might be depending on your outlook of marriage. I suppose if the impending nuptials are run by an angry father who wants to make sure his carefree daughter gets married BEFORE her belly starts to show visible signs of pregnancy, then such a ceremony, with resentful party guy and devastated good time girl would be a solemn occasion indeed, and no one would be especially happy with that day of days. Of course, that's not our situation, so to me, having someone be all solemn to officiate the wedding just strikes me as weirdly baroque, and something that would better fit in an Anne Rice novel with people bemoaning--or outright challenging--destiny and the cruel fates it has in store for everyone.
So anyway, today my search for a Solemnizer finally ended. I had about three pages worth of listings on people who were licensed to do it, and I went through it in rapid succession with many, many, MANY "No's" because it seems like quite a few people require this same service on this particular day, or the people who perform Solemnizations had decided to leave the country on that particular day. As I kept scratching off more and more names and feeling the noose tighten, I finally managed to luck out with a nice woman on the other end who, contrary to all previous expectation, was completely available, ready, willing and able. I promptly signed her on and told the Fiance "We got one!" only to have her horrified reaction a moment later when I told her the woman's name was Joanna.
This apparently is not on, because my future Mother-In-Law has an extremely phobic reaction to people who's names begin with "JO". I don't know the full details, and I'm not even sure I want to know, but apparently after a consistently bad run with men and women who have "JO" in their name, my mother-in-law to be has more or less refused any and all interactions with people that have those two dreaded letters in that particular order, and so there was NO FREAKIN' WAY, that she was going to allow her daughter to be married by such a hideous person.
Right.
So I called her back and told her we needed to cancel on grounds of Warding Evil, which she graciously accepted, albeit with a lot of puzzled laughter. The Fiance was apologetic about the whole thing, but we got saved when the woman called back to offer that her husband was also a legally empowered Solemnizer and his name was Gary, so that's all right then, isn't it?
Apparently it is.
So after a couple of days of frantic searching, we now have someone that is willing to marry us on the appointed day at the appointed time. We just have to meet up with him so he can discuss a few ceremony-ish things, and sign the approrpiate forms that can be submitted to ROM (Not the Space Knight, but the Registry Of Marriages) and then we'll be all nice and legal for October.
My only concern now is that the person who was arranging the venue for the ceremony itself was a woman named Jontel. But oh well, I guess we'll just see whether that's just cause for a trauma in the future or not...
I still get kind of freaked out by the Singapore title for people legally empowered to marry others off. I mean, "Solemnizer"... It sounds like a professional mourner or something. Somebody that stands there with a dour face and makes deep, throaty grunts with a quick nod or shake of the head and a penetrating gaze that looks into the pit of your soul and says, "You're going to die soon."
However of course, that is not the case. Well, it might be depending on your outlook of marriage. I suppose if the impending nuptials are run by an angry father who wants to make sure his carefree daughter gets married BEFORE her belly starts to show visible signs of pregnancy, then such a ceremony, with resentful party guy and devastated good time girl would be a solemn occasion indeed, and no one would be especially happy with that day of days. Of course, that's not our situation, so to me, having someone be all solemn to officiate the wedding just strikes me as weirdly baroque, and something that would better fit in an Anne Rice novel with people bemoaning--or outright challenging--destiny and the cruel fates it has in store for everyone.
So anyway, today my search for a Solemnizer finally ended. I had about three pages worth of listings on people who were licensed to do it, and I went through it in rapid succession with many, many, MANY "No's" because it seems like quite a few people require this same service on this particular day, or the people who perform Solemnizations had decided to leave the country on that particular day. As I kept scratching off more and more names and feeling the noose tighten, I finally managed to luck out with a nice woman on the other end who, contrary to all previous expectation, was completely available, ready, willing and able. I promptly signed her on and told the Fiance "We got one!" only to have her horrified reaction a moment later when I told her the woman's name was Joanna.
This apparently is not on, because my future Mother-In-Law has an extremely phobic reaction to people who's names begin with "JO". I don't know the full details, and I'm not even sure I want to know, but apparently after a consistently bad run with men and women who have "JO" in their name, my mother-in-law to be has more or less refused any and all interactions with people that have those two dreaded letters in that particular order, and so there was NO FREAKIN' WAY, that she was going to allow her daughter to be married by such a hideous person.
Right.
So I called her back and told her we needed to cancel on grounds of Warding Evil, which she graciously accepted, albeit with a lot of puzzled laughter. The Fiance was apologetic about the whole thing, but we got saved when the woman called back to offer that her husband was also a legally empowered Solemnizer and his name was Gary, so that's all right then, isn't it?
Apparently it is.
So after a couple of days of frantic searching, we now have someone that is willing to marry us on the appointed day at the appointed time. We just have to meet up with him so he can discuss a few ceremony-ish things, and sign the approrpiate forms that can be submitted to ROM (Not the Space Knight, but the Registry Of Marriages) and then we'll be all nice and legal for October.
My only concern now is that the person who was arranging the venue for the ceremony itself was a woman named Jontel. But oh well, I guess we'll just see whether that's just cause for a trauma in the future or not...
Labels: Icky Couple Stuff, My Life
Monday, September 19, 2005
So You Wanna' Write For Experimental Television Dramas
This is turning into a very weird lesson in how to adapt to new situations.
It's all kind of complicated because after a meeting with the other writer yesterday, we've decided that for various reasons, simply saying, "I'll write Episode 1, you write Episode 2, then I'll do 3, you do 4..." just won't work. The series is so heavily geared towards being a character study, with character moments (Because it is, after all, being generated by the improvisations of actors) that the traditional narrative structure won't work. So instead we just picked characters we like and will be writing them over the course of the 8 episodes of this mini, and then get together and see what we've got for each episode, and then figure out how to mesh it all, have one more pass to integrate the scripts, then send them off to the producers and director, who will tell us where they want to make changes, what we've downplayed too much and need to play up. Once they're happy, the scripts will go the broadcasters to look at, and they'll get back to the producers and director and tell them "This is played up too much, you need to tone it down," and they'll come back to us and tell us to put it back the way it was before they told us to play it up.
Some of the limitations that we're already slapped with going into this project. This has all been made very clear by meetings the producers have had with the MDA (Media Development Authority) of Singapore.
1) Absolutely ZERO words, gestures, expressions that portray or even IMPLY that homosexuality exists. Because as we all know, it's a myth, and television must portray the reality of that.
2) ZERO criticism of any specific religion. Use of the word "God" is allowed, but if it gets MORE specific, starts naming "Allah", "Jesus", "Christianity" "Buddhism" or anything else, and if it should say anything like "isn't that weird?" or "That's a bit silly" of any specific religion, YANK. No go to air.
3) Under no circumstances is anyone to make any political references. Not about the regional situations, and ABSOLUTELY NOT about the local political situation. I have the feeling that criticism of American politics is allowed, perhaps even welcome, especially if such criticism portrays Singapore politics in a good light, but NO commentary about the local situation.
If any of these conditions are breached, the script is unacceptable.
So what I'm doing today (Aside from other things related to marriage) is looking at the characters I've picked and thinking about what's going to happen over the course of eight episodes. I won't worry about timing just yet, I'll just look at each one and say okay, "This'll happen in ep 1, and this'll happen in ep 2" and just fill it up. When I meet with the other writer on Saturday, she'll show me what she's come up with, and we'll just start trading situations where I'll lose an ep 5 situation for her characters and in exchange, I get some Ep 7 time for a major catharsis, etc, etc. Then we'll collate that complete outline/arc for the series, and present that to the Powers That Be. Once they've approved it, the month of October is just spent doing what I'm oh so familiar with, just sitting down and Writing The Damn Thing.
But for now, I need to call up some Solemnizers and ask them, "Hey, you free on October 19th?"
This is turning into a very weird lesson in how to adapt to new situations.
It's all kind of complicated because after a meeting with the other writer yesterday, we've decided that for various reasons, simply saying, "I'll write Episode 1, you write Episode 2, then I'll do 3, you do 4..." just won't work. The series is so heavily geared towards being a character study, with character moments (Because it is, after all, being generated by the improvisations of actors) that the traditional narrative structure won't work. So instead we just picked characters we like and will be writing them over the course of the 8 episodes of this mini, and then get together and see what we've got for each episode, and then figure out how to mesh it all, have one more pass to integrate the scripts, then send them off to the producers and director, who will tell us where they want to make changes, what we've downplayed too much and need to play up. Once they're happy, the scripts will go the broadcasters to look at, and they'll get back to the producers and director and tell them "This is played up too much, you need to tone it down," and they'll come back to us and tell us to put it back the way it was before they told us to play it up.
Some of the limitations that we're already slapped with going into this project. This has all been made very clear by meetings the producers have had with the MDA (Media Development Authority) of Singapore.
1) Absolutely ZERO words, gestures, expressions that portray or even IMPLY that homosexuality exists. Because as we all know, it's a myth, and television must portray the reality of that.
2) ZERO criticism of any specific religion. Use of the word "God" is allowed, but if it gets MORE specific, starts naming "Allah", "Jesus", "Christianity" "Buddhism" or anything else, and if it should say anything like "isn't that weird?" or "That's a bit silly" of any specific religion, YANK. No go to air.
3) Under no circumstances is anyone to make any political references. Not about the regional situations, and ABSOLUTELY NOT about the local political situation. I have the feeling that criticism of American politics is allowed, perhaps even welcome, especially if such criticism portrays Singapore politics in a good light, but NO commentary about the local situation.
If any of these conditions are breached, the script is unacceptable.
So what I'm doing today (Aside from other things related to marriage) is looking at the characters I've picked and thinking about what's going to happen over the course of eight episodes. I won't worry about timing just yet, I'll just look at each one and say okay, "This'll happen in ep 1, and this'll happen in ep 2" and just fill it up. When I meet with the other writer on Saturday, she'll show me what she's come up with, and we'll just start trading situations where I'll lose an ep 5 situation for her characters and in exchange, I get some Ep 7 time for a major catharsis, etc, etc. Then we'll collate that complete outline/arc for the series, and present that to the Powers That Be. Once they've approved it, the month of October is just spent doing what I'm oh so familiar with, just sitting down and Writing The Damn Thing.
But for now, I need to call up some Solemnizers and ask them, "Hey, you free on October 19th?"
Labels: Television Production
Crap
I just watched Million Dollar Baby. I came into it with zero foreknowledge except that it had Clint Eastwood, Hillary Swank, had some boxing in it and won some Oscars.
I think I need to sit down and pick up the pieces of my heart it just broke all over the floor.
I just watched Million Dollar Baby. I came into it with zero foreknowledge except that it had Clint Eastwood, Hillary Swank, had some boxing in it and won some Oscars.
I think I need to sit down and pick up the pieces of my heart it just broke all over the floor.
Labels: Movies
My Precious
This is something of an amazingly uncharacteristic post. Mostly because it's so domestic. Most of the time with a male blog, you'll find almost no mention of an impending marriage simply because I suspect it's too embarrassing for most men to deal with and it's regarded as a girly thing. Not being a particularly masculine guy to begin with, I'm not having this problem.
So we did wedding stuff today. Well, we did it this afternoon. My morning was spent talking to the other writer about the upcoming project. The talk mostly consisted of us staring at each other across a table, shaking our head and muttering, "What the hell are we going to do?" and then not knowing for several more minutes until the entire meeting had elapsed. Productive, no?
Once that meeting and the ones with the producers and directors was over, we went into town to look at possible places to hold the wedding. The Fiance's parents have decided to be nice to us and splurge a little on the traditional Singapore Wedding Night At A Hotel, so we were looking at nice little small spaces that would be a little more in line with the kind of thing that we like and where a small group of people could assemble for what in Singapore is referred to as the Solemnization. The way it works here, because of the different religions, is the LEGAL recognition of a wedding must be "solemnized" before an appropriate city representative/justice of the peace type. Then the Real Wedding can take place. Unless of course, you're a Godless heathen, in which case the solemnization IS the wedding.
We have settled on the Gallery Hotel. Not only is it kind of neat and designer-y looking, but the bar out back, the Liquid Room, happens to be where we first laid eyes on each other, even though we wouldn't actually talk or get together for a few years after that initial awareness of each other's existence. And just across the street is the Book Cafe, which is one of my favorite cafes in the entire island anyway.
We have also picked up the wedding rings. This all went surprisingly fast. The final selection of rings is vaguely Elvish in design, at least with the swirly bits on the top, so I suppose you can't go wrong with forces of Tolkien moving you towards your destiny. I'm kind of amazed that these two processes were so quick and painless. A wedding venue, and the rings all picked up in one afternoon. Not too shabby.
Annnnd I've got an article for my video game magazine gig that still needs some finishing up, but at least it's mostly done.
This is something of an amazingly uncharacteristic post. Mostly because it's so domestic. Most of the time with a male blog, you'll find almost no mention of an impending marriage simply because I suspect it's too embarrassing for most men to deal with and it's regarded as a girly thing. Not being a particularly masculine guy to begin with, I'm not having this problem.
So we did wedding stuff today. Well, we did it this afternoon. My morning was spent talking to the other writer about the upcoming project. The talk mostly consisted of us staring at each other across a table, shaking our head and muttering, "What the hell are we going to do?" and then not knowing for several more minutes until the entire meeting had elapsed. Productive, no?
Once that meeting and the ones with the producers and directors was over, we went into town to look at possible places to hold the wedding. The Fiance's parents have decided to be nice to us and splurge a little on the traditional Singapore Wedding Night At A Hotel, so we were looking at nice little small spaces that would be a little more in line with the kind of thing that we like and where a small group of people could assemble for what in Singapore is referred to as the Solemnization. The way it works here, because of the different religions, is the LEGAL recognition of a wedding must be "solemnized" before an appropriate city representative/justice of the peace type. Then the Real Wedding can take place. Unless of course, you're a Godless heathen, in which case the solemnization IS the wedding.
We have settled on the Gallery Hotel. Not only is it kind of neat and designer-y looking, but the bar out back, the Liquid Room, happens to be where we first laid eyes on each other, even though we wouldn't actually talk or get together for a few years after that initial awareness of each other's existence. And just across the street is the Book Cafe, which is one of my favorite cafes in the entire island anyway.
We have also picked up the wedding rings. This all went surprisingly fast. The final selection of rings is vaguely Elvish in design, at least with the swirly bits on the top, so I suppose you can't go wrong with forces of Tolkien moving you towards your destiny. I'm kind of amazed that these two processes were so quick and painless. A wedding venue, and the rings all picked up in one afternoon. Not too shabby.
Annnnd I've got an article for my video game magazine gig that still needs some finishing up, but at least it's mostly done.
Labels: Icky Couple Stuff, My Life
Sunday, September 18, 2005
Master Thespian
I am so not an actor.
As part of that project I've recently gotten attached to, I spent 8 hours in a rehearsal space today, watching a bunch of actors go through various warm up exercises and improvisation sessions. I spent the entire time more or less just thanking the universe that I was not an actor. I have great respect for actors and equally great fear of them. I think that all creative types need to be crazy, but the actor is probably the most outwardly, extorvertedly crazy of all the artistic pursuits, since their medium of expression is themselves, and hence to pay attention to their work, you must pay attention to them. This runs completely counter to writing where the writer just disappears and lets the work stand on it's own once it's finished. Ditto for the painter. Or even the musician if you record the performance.
It was nice to be back in that atmosphere of creativity with a bunch of people, and I am thankful for that experience. But the kind of creativity I prefer (mostly meetings in cafes or someone's dinner party just having a rousing discussion of ideas) runs counter to the kind of creativity an actor needs, which consists of games, exercises with lots of yelling, breathing and warm ups, and a whole lotta' touching of each other. And of course, the collaboration. Unless you're doing a monologue, being an actor means working with other actors, and of course, a director. It was a jarring experience to see them get stopped in the middle of what they were doing to take some direction here and there. For me, the entire creative experience is just me typing away at whatever I want and staring at the screen periodically to wonder if it makes any sense, then carrying on. No one else--at least during the formation of the first draft--tells me what to do, and when it comes to actually doing the work, to finishing it, no one else except me does it.
Actors require a lot of trust. Actors put themselves out there. They lean on each other, they lean on the director, and they take a lot of risks with the performance. Their job, in effect, is to try and make ideas as real as possible. As a writer, all I have to care about really is coming up with the idea itself.
So while this is shaping up to be a cool experience, and I'm pretty sure there are aspects of this job that I will enjoy--especially watching--it is also once again reinforcing with concrete-laden, hammer-like blows my extreme preference for being someone that just comes up with this stuff and doesn't have to worry about what other people do with it.
I am so not an actor.
As part of that project I've recently gotten attached to, I spent 8 hours in a rehearsal space today, watching a bunch of actors go through various warm up exercises and improvisation sessions. I spent the entire time more or less just thanking the universe that I was not an actor. I have great respect for actors and equally great fear of them. I think that all creative types need to be crazy, but the actor is probably the most outwardly, extorvertedly crazy of all the artistic pursuits, since their medium of expression is themselves, and hence to pay attention to their work, you must pay attention to them. This runs completely counter to writing where the writer just disappears and lets the work stand on it's own once it's finished. Ditto for the painter. Or even the musician if you record the performance.
It was nice to be back in that atmosphere of creativity with a bunch of people, and I am thankful for that experience. But the kind of creativity I prefer (mostly meetings in cafes or someone's dinner party just having a rousing discussion of ideas) runs counter to the kind of creativity an actor needs, which consists of games, exercises with lots of yelling, breathing and warm ups, and a whole lotta' touching of each other. And of course, the collaboration. Unless you're doing a monologue, being an actor means working with other actors, and of course, a director. It was a jarring experience to see them get stopped in the middle of what they were doing to take some direction here and there. For me, the entire creative experience is just me typing away at whatever I want and staring at the screen periodically to wonder if it makes any sense, then carrying on. No one else--at least during the formation of the first draft--tells me what to do, and when it comes to actually doing the work, to finishing it, no one else except me does it.
Actors require a lot of trust. Actors put themselves out there. They lean on each other, they lean on the director, and they take a lot of risks with the performance. Their job, in effect, is to try and make ideas as real as possible. As a writer, all I have to care about really is coming up with the idea itself.
So while this is shaping up to be a cool experience, and I'm pretty sure there are aspects of this job that I will enjoy--especially watching--it is also once again reinforcing with concrete-laden, hammer-like blows my extreme preference for being someone that just comes up with this stuff and doesn't have to worry about what other people do with it.
Labels: Television Production
Saturday, September 17, 2005
Back In The Saddle
Oh those whacky pre-production meetings...
So on top of the fact that we've decided to get married and now have to find a new replacement place to live in November, we're both monstrously busy. I'm still pounding away at that Kiddy Non-Fiction book (Hopefully I can send off draft 2 by Monday) and on top of this, the same people who hired me for that are also putting me through the initial paces of this 8 episode mini-series they're doing.
I just came back from one of the pre-production meetings. There's an awful lot of documentation going on, one guy flits around from one corner of the meeting room to the other with digital video camera, taking down everything for posterity's sake, or potentially some DVD extra, or documentary about the making of show, which, of course, I can't talk about.
I think I am safe in mentioning however that there is a strong element of improvisation involved, which is why my position as one of the writers is tricky, as it means having to adapt and work with whatever is given to me, as opposed to giving the material to the actors and letting them worry about how to execute what I just made up. Now I'm in their position.
This will keep me occupied for the next couple of months, and will involve a lot of sitting around in rehearsal spaces watching actors do their thing and then walking away thinking, "Crap, what do I do with this?!?"
Scary. But should also be fun.
Oh yeah, and there's still a children's book to write. So to take stock, I am looking at my plate and what I see is:
1) Finish commissioned kiddie book.
2) Work on mini-series.
3) Get married.
4) Find new place to live.
5) Start on children's novel.
6) Worry about what's happening with The Pale Summer
7) Get the Wife (As she will be next month) her Canadian PR.
8) Look to the horizon for the Canada move.
Hm... Okay, that seems to be enough for now. Dear Life, no more surprises please, I'm quite good with what I've got...
Oh those whacky pre-production meetings...
So on top of the fact that we've decided to get married and now have to find a new replacement place to live in November, we're both monstrously busy. I'm still pounding away at that Kiddy Non-Fiction book (Hopefully I can send off draft 2 by Monday) and on top of this, the same people who hired me for that are also putting me through the initial paces of this 8 episode mini-series they're doing.
I just came back from one of the pre-production meetings. There's an awful lot of documentation going on, one guy flits around from one corner of the meeting room to the other with digital video camera, taking down everything for posterity's sake, or potentially some DVD extra, or documentary about the making of show, which, of course, I can't talk about.
I think I am safe in mentioning however that there is a strong element of improvisation involved, which is why my position as one of the writers is tricky, as it means having to adapt and work with whatever is given to me, as opposed to giving the material to the actors and letting them worry about how to execute what I just made up. Now I'm in their position.
This will keep me occupied for the next couple of months, and will involve a lot of sitting around in rehearsal spaces watching actors do their thing and then walking away thinking, "Crap, what do I do with this?!?"
Scary. But should also be fun.
Oh yeah, and there's still a children's book to write. So to take stock, I am looking at my plate and what I see is:
1) Finish commissioned kiddie book.
2) Work on mini-series.
3) Get married.
4) Find new place to live.
5) Start on children's novel.
6) Worry about what's happening with The Pale Summer
7) Get the Wife (As she will be next month) her Canadian PR.
8) Look to the horizon for the Canada move.
Hm... Okay, that seems to be enough for now. Dear Life, no more surprises please, I'm quite good with what I've got...
Labels: Icky Couple Stuff, My Life, Television Production
Friday, September 16, 2005
The Reality Check
In light of this morning's events, it looks like a November move to Vancouver probably won't be possible.
I had to go down to get my passport renewed and squared away anyhow (Which was as bureaucratic as the last time, but with fewer hiccups) and while I was down there, the fiance tagged along to see about how we would go about getting her the legal capacity to stay in Canada.
It turns out that the two step process of 1) Become a permanent resident, and 2) Spend a certain number of years as a permanent resident before becoming a citizen, must first be followed by an approximate 6 month period. That, apparently, is how long it takes for the Singapore and Canadian governments to process a request for PR status for a Singapore citizen, if they are a married/common law partner to a Canadian national.
Which means, obviously, that November is totally out of the question, and a move in spring is definitely more feasible. That seems to be the new plan.
However, to make things a little easier, I have an announcement to make:
We are getting married in October. The 19th, it looks like at the moment.
I know that is horrifyingly short notice, especially for friends in Canada who had told me for years that they dreamed of the moment of my wedding when they could rub my face in it and tell me I was dead wrong... but all I can say is, the chance is there, it's just that you've got just a little over a month to see to the arrangements.
It's going to be a very a small, intimate thing, no big reception, and it might even take place just at home, with only a few friends present (We'll need to two legal witnesses, the Fiance has already picked hers, leaving mine up in the air) and then... maybe just go to a restaurant or something, or even sit back afterwards and just have conversation and coffee... But that's kind of the way I'd always hoped my wedding would be; a small thing with only people I counted as friends present, and no big hoopla afterwards.
Obviously with our financial status, there won't be any big hotel stays, or even a honeymoon at this point (That will have to wait until we're not scrimping and saving for the Canada move) but I don't really feel the lack. A vacation is nice, but being finally hitched to The One is the most important thing, and since I'm getting that, what the hell else can I complain about?
So the score thus far:
Vancouver in November: No go.
Wedding in October: Hell yeah.
Gentlemen, start your engines.
In light of this morning's events, it looks like a November move to Vancouver probably won't be possible.
I had to go down to get my passport renewed and squared away anyhow (Which was as bureaucratic as the last time, but with fewer hiccups) and while I was down there, the fiance tagged along to see about how we would go about getting her the legal capacity to stay in Canada.
It turns out that the two step process of 1) Become a permanent resident, and 2) Spend a certain number of years as a permanent resident before becoming a citizen, must first be followed by an approximate 6 month period. That, apparently, is how long it takes for the Singapore and Canadian governments to process a request for PR status for a Singapore citizen, if they are a married/common law partner to a Canadian national.
Which means, obviously, that November is totally out of the question, and a move in spring is definitely more feasible. That seems to be the new plan.
However, to make things a little easier, I have an announcement to make:
We are getting married in October. The 19th, it looks like at the moment.
I know that is horrifyingly short notice, especially for friends in Canada who had told me for years that they dreamed of the moment of my wedding when they could rub my face in it and tell me I was dead wrong... but all I can say is, the chance is there, it's just that you've got just a little over a month to see to the arrangements.
It's going to be a very a small, intimate thing, no big reception, and it might even take place just at home, with only a few friends present (We'll need to two legal witnesses, the Fiance has already picked hers, leaving mine up in the air) and then... maybe just go to a restaurant or something, or even sit back afterwards and just have conversation and coffee... But that's kind of the way I'd always hoped my wedding would be; a small thing with only people I counted as friends present, and no big hoopla afterwards.
Obviously with our financial status, there won't be any big hotel stays, or even a honeymoon at this point (That will have to wait until we're not scrimping and saving for the Canada move) but I don't really feel the lack. A vacation is nice, but being finally hitched to The One is the most important thing, and since I'm getting that, what the hell else can I complain about?
So the score thus far:
Vancouver in November: No go.
Wedding in October: Hell yeah.
Gentlemen, start your engines.
Labels: Icky Couple Stuff, My Life
Wednesday, September 14, 2005
Out On The Streets
That will be the condition we are about to find ourselves in within the next two months.
For reasons that have yet to be explained, the apartment we have been happily living in for nearly three years now is no longer to going to be available to us once our lease expires in November. I got a call from the Landlord last night with the odd request, "When your lease expires I'll be needing your apartment, but you don't have to pay your October rent, do you understand what I'm saying?"
To which my reply was, "So... you're saying we have to be out by November?"
"Yes."
"Ah."
So we're going to be homeless in the month of November.
On the other hand, perhaps this is a sign.
We've been looking at it, and it seems like a lot of things are now converging on November. My passport expires that month. So does my Employment Pass here in Singapore. Now we're without a home in the same month. We've been talking about it and although we haven't totally nailed ourselves down to anything yet, the one thing that keeps coming back is, "Maybe it's time to go back to Canada."
So while we're still talking about it, we're not averse to the possibility that maybe this Christmas might be celeberated in Vancouver. We'll have to see. I'd need to look into the job situation there and pretty much take whatever is offered whether that's a writing gig, a book store cashier, or even a fast food job if it comes to that. Fortunately--or so I tell myself--we're young enough that even if we get hit with the poverty stick for a while, we should be able to survive it.
Oh well. This may not be the smartest move in the history of smart moves, but it is a change, and it seems like destiny, if such a thing exists, is conspiring to push us towards it. It's certainly pointing it's finger in that direction repeatedly with a lot of spitting and gesticulation...
That will be the condition we are about to find ourselves in within the next two months.
For reasons that have yet to be explained, the apartment we have been happily living in for nearly three years now is no longer to going to be available to us once our lease expires in November. I got a call from the Landlord last night with the odd request, "When your lease expires I'll be needing your apartment, but you don't have to pay your October rent, do you understand what I'm saying?"
To which my reply was, "So... you're saying we have to be out by November?"
"Yes."
"Ah."
So we're going to be homeless in the month of November.
On the other hand, perhaps this is a sign.
We've been looking at it, and it seems like a lot of things are now converging on November. My passport expires that month. So does my Employment Pass here in Singapore. Now we're without a home in the same month. We've been talking about it and although we haven't totally nailed ourselves down to anything yet, the one thing that keeps coming back is, "Maybe it's time to go back to Canada."
So while we're still talking about it, we're not averse to the possibility that maybe this Christmas might be celeberated in Vancouver. We'll have to see. I'd need to look into the job situation there and pretty much take whatever is offered whether that's a writing gig, a book store cashier, or even a fast food job if it comes to that. Fortunately--or so I tell myself--we're young enough that even if we get hit with the poverty stick for a while, we should be able to survive it.
Oh well. This may not be the smartest move in the history of smart moves, but it is a change, and it seems like destiny, if such a thing exists, is conspiring to push us towards it. It's certainly pointing it's finger in that direction repeatedly with a lot of spitting and gesticulation...
Labels: My Life, Singapore Stupidity
Tuesday, September 13, 2005
Super Mega Formation World Defense Attack
It occurs to me that perhaps what the world really needs is for Japan to prominently take the lead as the governing super-power. Were this to happen, one of the first and most critical things would be a revamp of the crisis/military response process, and it might go something like this:
Reporter: I'm here today with Sushi Kamikaze, the new head of the World Defense Force. How are you, Sushi?
Sushi: I'm good, thanks for asking.
Reporter: Swell. Now, about these new reforms in military and crisis intervention. What have you whacky guys cooked up?
Sushi: I'm glad you asked. We went to the drawing board and we thought long and hard about it, and asked the tough question. "What does the world need? What can solve most of the problems put before it?" After a lot of deliberation, Playstation gaming, anime viewing and manga reading, our crack team of researchers came up with an answer. This is it.
[Sushi gestures towards green fields. A fire truck ambles over the hill]
Reporter: That's it? A firetruck?
Sushi: Ah, but wait, there's more.
[Firetruck is quickly followed by VTOL capable plane, medi-vac helicopter, armored personnel carrier, and a speed boat inexplicably built with wheels.]
Sushi: SUPER COOL TRANSFORMATION SEQUENCE NOOOOOOW!
[The vehicles all transform into massive looking humanoid robots]
Reporter: Well put me in a dress and call me Sally, you've made giant robots!
Sushi: That's right! Giant transformable robots! Only the mighty morphing mettle of warriors such as these is up to the task of the modern crises we face! They can rescue kittens and fight giant radioactive mutants!
Reporter: That's one heck of a military iniative.
Sushi: But wait, there's more! INEXPLICABLE BOLTS OF LIGHTNING AND MUSIC MONTAAAAAGE!
[Lightning bolts appear from nowhere, surrounding each giant robot as they transform yet again into the parts of a super, massive robot, combining to form it. It raises a sword that glints in the air]
Reporter: WOW, IT'S HUGE!
Sushi: Yup, the ultimate defense system!
Reporter: So it's sentient?
Sushi: Of course not! Then it would take over the world. SUPER GYMNASTIC INTRO!
[Giant Robot disassambles. Pilots of each robot, dressed in brightly colored tights with helmets somersault and back flip their way out of the robots, announcing their moves as they execute them in the air.]
Red Guy: ULTRA LEADER DOUBLE FLIP!
Yellow Girl: MAJOR SLUTTY LEG SPLITS!
Blue Guy: POINTLESS SWISHING OF ARMS RAPIDLY WHILE DESCENDING!
Green Guy: TUMBLING LIKE A KNOCKED BOWLING PIN SPIN!
Pink Girl: FLUTTERING OF SUPERFLUOUS SKIRT AND JIGGLING OF MASSIVE CLEAVAAAAAAAGE!
All of them: WE ARE THE PRIMARY COLORED WARRIORS EXCEPT FOR THE PINK ONE!
[They strike battle poses, swords shining in air]
Reporter: Wow.
Sushi: And I sit in the mountain fortress, coordinating their efforts and occasionally getting kidnapped!
Reporter: Hey! Do they have real identities?
Sushi: Of course!
Reporter: Will you tell me?
Sushi: No! Go away!
Reporter: Can I be the reporter that constantly tries to find and prove their identities, thus complicating their attempts to have lives and save the world at the same time?
Sushi: Uh... sure!
Reporter: Cool! Can I take pictures of the pink and yellow ones in the shower and post the pictures on the internet?
Sushi: Only if I get glossies to approve first.
Reporter: Deal.
Post Script:
Dear Singapore Government,
Despite the fact that I have an unflattering and potentially racist portrayal of Japanese people in this blog entry, please do not charge me with seditious acts of treason on my blog. Thank you for your consideration, and not carrying me off into the night never to be heard from again.
It occurs to me that perhaps what the world really needs is for Japan to prominently take the lead as the governing super-power. Were this to happen, one of the first and most critical things would be a revamp of the crisis/military response process, and it might go something like this:
Reporter: I'm here today with Sushi Kamikaze, the new head of the World Defense Force. How are you, Sushi?
Sushi: I'm good, thanks for asking.
Reporter: Swell. Now, about these new reforms in military and crisis intervention. What have you whacky guys cooked up?
Sushi: I'm glad you asked. We went to the drawing board and we thought long and hard about it, and asked the tough question. "What does the world need? What can solve most of the problems put before it?" After a lot of deliberation, Playstation gaming, anime viewing and manga reading, our crack team of researchers came up with an answer. This is it.
[Sushi gestures towards green fields. A fire truck ambles over the hill]
Reporter: That's it? A firetruck?
Sushi: Ah, but wait, there's more.
[Firetruck is quickly followed by VTOL capable plane, medi-vac helicopter, armored personnel carrier, and a speed boat inexplicably built with wheels.]
Sushi: SUPER COOL TRANSFORMATION SEQUENCE NOOOOOOW!
[The vehicles all transform into massive looking humanoid robots]
Reporter: Well put me in a dress and call me Sally, you've made giant robots!
Sushi: That's right! Giant transformable robots! Only the mighty morphing mettle of warriors such as these is up to the task of the modern crises we face! They can rescue kittens and fight giant radioactive mutants!
Reporter: That's one heck of a military iniative.
Sushi: But wait, there's more! INEXPLICABLE BOLTS OF LIGHTNING AND MUSIC MONTAAAAAGE!
[Lightning bolts appear from nowhere, surrounding each giant robot as they transform yet again into the parts of a super, massive robot, combining to form it. It raises a sword that glints in the air]
Reporter: WOW, IT'S HUGE!
Sushi: Yup, the ultimate defense system!
Reporter: So it's sentient?
Sushi: Of course not! Then it would take over the world. SUPER GYMNASTIC INTRO!
[Giant Robot disassambles. Pilots of each robot, dressed in brightly colored tights with helmets somersault and back flip their way out of the robots, announcing their moves as they execute them in the air.]
Red Guy: ULTRA LEADER DOUBLE FLIP!
Yellow Girl: MAJOR SLUTTY LEG SPLITS!
Blue Guy: POINTLESS SWISHING OF ARMS RAPIDLY WHILE DESCENDING!
Green Guy: TUMBLING LIKE A KNOCKED BOWLING PIN SPIN!
Pink Girl: FLUTTERING OF SUPERFLUOUS SKIRT AND JIGGLING OF MASSIVE CLEAVAAAAAAAGE!
All of them: WE ARE THE PRIMARY COLORED WARRIORS EXCEPT FOR THE PINK ONE!
[They strike battle poses, swords shining in air]
Reporter: Wow.
Sushi: And I sit in the mountain fortress, coordinating their efforts and occasionally getting kidnapped!
Reporter: Hey! Do they have real identities?
Sushi: Of course!
Reporter: Will you tell me?
Sushi: No! Go away!
Reporter: Can I be the reporter that constantly tries to find and prove their identities, thus complicating their attempts to have lives and save the world at the same time?
Sushi: Uh... sure!
Reporter: Cool! Can I take pictures of the pink and yellow ones in the shower and post the pictures on the internet?
Sushi: Only if I get glossies to approve first.
Reporter: Deal.
Post Script:
Dear Singapore Government,
Despite the fact that I have an unflattering and potentially racist portrayal of Japanese people in this blog entry, please do not charge me with seditious acts of treason on my blog. Thank you for your consideration, and not carrying me off into the night never to be heard from again.
Labels: Random Blargh, Stupid Scripts
Monday, September 12, 2005
Decline
I'm not political.
I don't like discussing politics or religion as those kinds of discussions can start out being really interesting and enlightening, but all it takes is one poorly phrased or intoned word, and the whole discourse can spiral into ugly shouting and arguing. That's one reason why you don't see any political or religious topics on this ol' blog, since I'm not interested in starting a flame war, and everyone is going to hold to their opinion no matter what your--or my--take may be.
This entry is not political either. But after watching the whole Katrina/New Orleans/FUBAR situation for the last couple of weeks, one historical/social observation keeps coming back to me again and again.
It is the word ROME.
As in specifically the decline and fall of.
As more news comes in of what America is like once the blanket--the thin 1% of superwealth that, like models or actresses in film and magazine, is what is portrayed as the dominant lifestyle--is ripped off and we see finally what lies under that blanket, I think to myself, "Damn, that didn't last very long at all, did it?"
I mean, the Romans started up roughly in 650 BCE, and had a run that lasted till 476 AD. That's an empire that lasted over 800 years before finally collapsing. America's been around in the 18th century, and in just a little over 200 years it's already showing the classic stages of full on decline? It's like with each successive generation of technological evolution, the lifespan of empires gets shorter and shorter. Or at least, the expansionist hey-day portion of a nation when they stop being Imperial and start worrying about just surviving.
I don't know how many Americans are actually aware of this, but in other countries around the world, there are quite a few people--and I mean intelligent, scholarly types, not just Joe Average bitching in the bar--who are already holding discussions about who's next. As in, "Who is going to fill the chair it is obvious America is inevitably leaving? Will it be China? Will it be Japan? The EU?"
It makes for some incredibly interesting conversation. I never thought I would be born into a lifetime where I could actually see an empire of sorts begin it's fall, but the more I see of what is happening in America, and the more you compare that with historical precedent, the more abundantly clear it becomes that we are seeing some fairly well documented shifts in the motion of history once again. This is nothing new. Humanity just acts like it is. Over and over again.
I'm not political.
I don't like discussing politics or religion as those kinds of discussions can start out being really interesting and enlightening, but all it takes is one poorly phrased or intoned word, and the whole discourse can spiral into ugly shouting and arguing. That's one reason why you don't see any political or religious topics on this ol' blog, since I'm not interested in starting a flame war, and everyone is going to hold to their opinion no matter what your--or my--take may be.
This entry is not political either. But after watching the whole Katrina/New Orleans/FUBAR situation for the last couple of weeks, one historical/social observation keeps coming back to me again and again.
It is the word ROME.
As in specifically the decline and fall of.
As more news comes in of what America is like once the blanket--the thin 1% of superwealth that, like models or actresses in film and magazine, is what is portrayed as the dominant lifestyle--is ripped off and we see finally what lies under that blanket, I think to myself, "Damn, that didn't last very long at all, did it?"
I mean, the Romans started up roughly in 650 BCE, and had a run that lasted till 476 AD. That's an empire that lasted over 800 years before finally collapsing. America's been around in the 18th century, and in just a little over 200 years it's already showing the classic stages of full on decline? It's like with each successive generation of technological evolution, the lifespan of empires gets shorter and shorter. Or at least, the expansionist hey-day portion of a nation when they stop being Imperial and start worrying about just surviving.
I don't know how many Americans are actually aware of this, but in other countries around the world, there are quite a few people--and I mean intelligent, scholarly types, not just Joe Average bitching in the bar--who are already holding discussions about who's next. As in, "Who is going to fill the chair it is obvious America is inevitably leaving? Will it be China? Will it be Japan? The EU?"
It makes for some incredibly interesting conversation. I never thought I would be born into a lifetime where I could actually see an empire of sorts begin it's fall, but the more I see of what is happening in America, and the more you compare that with historical precedent, the more abundantly clear it becomes that we are seeing some fairly well documented shifts in the motion of history once again. This is nothing new. Humanity just acts like it is. Over and over again.
More Rewrites
Nothing real interesting going on today. Just going at that second draft of the non-fiction kiddy book and contemplating a few images that popped up over the weekend thanks to conversations with the Fiance. They are nice images, and I'd really like to stick them in a story somewhere, but I think it'll be a loooong time before the appropriate story crops up, because right now it's just a singular image and feeling, with no real connection to what has happened before, or what will crop up after. Assuming I don't forget entirely, maybe the story will make itself known before 2010 rolls around.
I recently got around to finally picking up the latest trade paperback compilation of Brian Vaughan's Y: The Last Man. If you ever needed definitive proof that comics are no longer about people in tights busting the hell out of each other, this, my friends, is it. The premise is that a "plague" of some kind simultaneously hits every area on the globe, killing any high order mammal with a "Y" chromosome. In other words, all the men in the world suddenly die at the same time. Except for a geeky escape artist named Yorick, and the monkey he was training. The rest of the story is about Yorick teaming up with some exceptional women to get down to the bottom of why he is the last surviving man on Earth, and it is one HELL of a story. Just the ideas Vaughan throws out and some of the speculation that goes into how the world would survive without men is incredibly unnerving. For example, the only nation with a standing army left is Israel, and that's only because it was mandatory for the women to enter National Service there. All other nations are more or less completely without defenses. Not that they really need it, because with the death of the men, most of the motivation and drive to wage war sort of evaporates anyhow. Tori Amos sets up an artist's colony in the UK. Models suddenly find themselves useless and scorned, totally adrift without power they once enjoyed.
Mindboggling stuff. If you ever get really bored and are looking for something with no tights in it, a lot of good characterization, some truly funny moments, and ideas that make you just stop and stare with your mouth open once you seriously consider them, then PICK THIS ONE UP. The series itself still continues as a monthly (Though Vaughan has promised that this one has a definite end) but there are five trade paperback compilations currently available.
Nothing real interesting going on today. Just going at that second draft of the non-fiction kiddy book and contemplating a few images that popped up over the weekend thanks to conversations with the Fiance. They are nice images, and I'd really like to stick them in a story somewhere, but I think it'll be a loooong time before the appropriate story crops up, because right now it's just a singular image and feeling, with no real connection to what has happened before, or what will crop up after. Assuming I don't forget entirely, maybe the story will make itself known before 2010 rolls around.
I recently got around to finally picking up the latest trade paperback compilation of Brian Vaughan's Y: The Last Man. If you ever needed definitive proof that comics are no longer about people in tights busting the hell out of each other, this, my friends, is it. The premise is that a "plague" of some kind simultaneously hits every area on the globe, killing any high order mammal with a "Y" chromosome. In other words, all the men in the world suddenly die at the same time. Except for a geeky escape artist named Yorick, and the monkey he was training. The rest of the story is about Yorick teaming up with some exceptional women to get down to the bottom of why he is the last surviving man on Earth, and it is one HELL of a story. Just the ideas Vaughan throws out and some of the speculation that goes into how the world would survive without men is incredibly unnerving. For example, the only nation with a standing army left is Israel, and that's only because it was mandatory for the women to enter National Service there. All other nations are more or less completely without defenses. Not that they really need it, because with the death of the men, most of the motivation and drive to wage war sort of evaporates anyhow. Tori Amos sets up an artist's colony in the UK. Models suddenly find themselves useless and scorned, totally adrift without power they once enjoyed.
Mindboggling stuff. If you ever get really bored and are looking for something with no tights in it, a lot of good characterization, some truly funny moments, and ideas that make you just stop and stare with your mouth open once you seriously consider them, then PICK THIS ONE UP. The series itself still continues as a monthly (Though Vaughan has promised that this one has a definite end) but there are five trade paperback compilations currently available.
Sunday, September 11, 2005
Grind, Grind, Grind
I think I have my particular play-style in video games to thank in some small way for my ability to start and actually finish a novel (The question of whether they're any good or not is a whole other topic). I tend to be what some would call a "completist". In game terms, this means that I have a compulsive need to get/unlock/steal/see every single secret, item, bonus cinema or whatever the developers have thrown into a game, and in pursuit of this goal of making sure I haven't missed a single thing, I am willing to focus for hours at a time, days at a time, months at a time, until I finally let myself put the controller down (mentally or otherwise) and focus my attention elsewhere.
The reason I'm thinking of this is, of course, that I've started another RPG. Well, it's an old RPG, called Suikoden III, for the Playstation 2, and I'm playing through it again... well, mostly because I feel this need to play a really good, massive RPG, and partially because there's a cheat I've been meaning to try which require about 20 hours of tediously repeating the same battle over and over again, then dying in a random fight afterwards so that you're carried back to your last save point, but with all the levels you acquired intact. The reason it has to be done this way is because the practical "ceiling" for leveling in this rpg is 60. This is the only way to reasonably circumvent that and get characters to level 99, something I usually try to do in my RPGs.
But I expect it's probably this same relentless focus and ability to withstand daily, hourly doses of monotony that also make it more bearable for me to sit in front of a monitor every day and crank out more to a novel that will seemingly never end.
Speaking of which, I have to start on the new one.
However, there is a new gig in the offing. It turns out that my "audition" script sample for the people who are looking for a dramatic scriptwriter went over pretty well. I got a call today asking if I'd still be interested in the project and said okay, so now I just have to wait for the details and see how things go. After all this time, I FINALLY get to work on a script that's narrative. Well, one that's narrative and actually goes to air anyway...
I think I have my particular play-style in video games to thank in some small way for my ability to start and actually finish a novel (The question of whether they're any good or not is a whole other topic). I tend to be what some would call a "completist". In game terms, this means that I have a compulsive need to get/unlock/steal/see every single secret, item, bonus cinema or whatever the developers have thrown into a game, and in pursuit of this goal of making sure I haven't missed a single thing, I am willing to focus for hours at a time, days at a time, months at a time, until I finally let myself put the controller down (mentally or otherwise) and focus my attention elsewhere.
The reason I'm thinking of this is, of course, that I've started another RPG. Well, it's an old RPG, called Suikoden III, for the Playstation 2, and I'm playing through it again... well, mostly because I feel this need to play a really good, massive RPG, and partially because there's a cheat I've been meaning to try which require about 20 hours of tediously repeating the same battle over and over again, then dying in a random fight afterwards so that you're carried back to your last save point, but with all the levels you acquired intact. The reason it has to be done this way is because the practical "ceiling" for leveling in this rpg is 60. This is the only way to reasonably circumvent that and get characters to level 99, something I usually try to do in my RPGs.
But I expect it's probably this same relentless focus and ability to withstand daily, hourly doses of monotony that also make it more bearable for me to sit in front of a monitor every day and crank out more to a novel that will seemingly never end.
Speaking of which, I have to start on the new one.
However, there is a new gig in the offing. It turns out that my "audition" script sample for the people who are looking for a dramatic scriptwriter went over pretty well. I got a call today asking if I'd still be interested in the project and said okay, so now I just have to wait for the details and see how things go. After all this time, I FINALLY get to work on a script that's narrative. Well, one that's narrative and actually goes to air anyway...
Saturday, September 10, 2005
Hey, We Got A Murder
This is the second one in three months.
It's also a bit of a stunner as [sarcasm on] Singapore has never, ever had a crime committed on its shores and these are the first in it's entire history [sarcasm off]. What amazes me about these crimes is how it shows clearly that the locals are all talk, no action. I mean, back home, people watch CSI rabidly, take copious notes, and then when they go and commit their crimes, they follow all the "advice" on how not to get caught that CSI offers to viewers. FOR FREE, mind you, they don't even have to pay seminar attendance fees for "How to commit a murder and leave as little forensic evidence behind as possible for future convictions" and it shows in the number of murders in America that occur on a daily basis that go without an arrest.
Here, they obviously WANT CSI to be shown here because they want to keep up with the Joneses, so to speak, and maintain the appearance of being culturally "with it", but it's all lip service. They say they watch CSI. They don't really mean it.
I mean, the first murder a while back was some Chinese manager who was OPENLY DATING his employee in front of his coworkers, who finally get fed up (possibly it was threats to go public with their affair, the guy was married with kids) and chopped her to pieces, wrapping the body parts in plastic, putting them in cardboard boxes and tossing them into the river. He was found later with the same plastic bags in his house.
Just a day or two ago, we had another dismemberment here. In Orchard Road, mythical shopping nirvana and traditional Sunday roosting home to a million, buzillion picknicking Filipina maids, a head and some other limbs were found stuffed into a bag. The torso area was found at a reservoir. These were also of a woman. The cops have found the perp, and it turns out that this seems to be a case of one Filipina maid killing another.
I suppose you could make an argument that people who kill aren't the most rational people to beginw with, but still... If you're meticulous enough to cut the body into nice neat pieces, wrap it up so it's unidentifiable, then why can't you just go that extra mile and find a more reasonable way to dispose of it? Heck, look at Fargo, that guy had the right idea just shredding a body in a wood chipper. It was a smart way to dispose of evidence.
Man, if you're going to kill somebody, at least do your homework and figure out what to do afterwards. This is supposed to be an Intelligence Based economy in Singapore. So far there has yet to be one intelligent murder. That's just a little embarassing for a society that prides itself on it's intellect...
This is the second one in three months.
It's also a bit of a stunner as [sarcasm on] Singapore has never, ever had a crime committed on its shores and these are the first in it's entire history [sarcasm off]. What amazes me about these crimes is how it shows clearly that the locals are all talk, no action. I mean, back home, people watch CSI rabidly, take copious notes, and then when they go and commit their crimes, they follow all the "advice" on how not to get caught that CSI offers to viewers. FOR FREE, mind you, they don't even have to pay seminar attendance fees for "How to commit a murder and leave as little forensic evidence behind as possible for future convictions" and it shows in the number of murders in America that occur on a daily basis that go without an arrest.
Here, they obviously WANT CSI to be shown here because they want to keep up with the Joneses, so to speak, and maintain the appearance of being culturally "with it", but it's all lip service. They say they watch CSI. They don't really mean it.
I mean, the first murder a while back was some Chinese manager who was OPENLY DATING his employee in front of his coworkers, who finally get fed up (possibly it was threats to go public with their affair, the guy was married with kids) and chopped her to pieces, wrapping the body parts in plastic, putting them in cardboard boxes and tossing them into the river. He was found later with the same plastic bags in his house.
Just a day or two ago, we had another dismemberment here. In Orchard Road, mythical shopping nirvana and traditional Sunday roosting home to a million, buzillion picknicking Filipina maids, a head and some other limbs were found stuffed into a bag. The torso area was found at a reservoir. These were also of a woman. The cops have found the perp, and it turns out that this seems to be a case of one Filipina maid killing another.
I suppose you could make an argument that people who kill aren't the most rational people to beginw with, but still... If you're meticulous enough to cut the body into nice neat pieces, wrap it up so it's unidentifiable, then why can't you just go that extra mile and find a more reasonable way to dispose of it? Heck, look at Fargo, that guy had the right idea just shredding a body in a wood chipper. It was a smart way to dispose of evidence.
Man, if you're going to kill somebody, at least do your homework and figure out what to do afterwards. This is supposed to be an Intelligence Based economy in Singapore. So far there has yet to be one intelligent murder. That's just a little embarassing for a society that prides itself on it's intellect...
Labels: My Life, Singapore Stupidity
Friday, September 09, 2005
One Night At The Bar
I imagine something like this must have already happened. Or if it hasn't, it will soon.
Setting: A quiet, anonymous bar somewhere out in the unfashionable side of L.A. Mark Hamill sits there nursing a drink. No one looks up when a new guy enters the bar. He's wearing dark glasses and a baseball cap, but everyone knows it's Hayden Christensen. He takes a seat next to Mark. They both stare off into the distance.
Hayden: What are you having?
Mark: A Shirley Temple.
Hayden: [shaking head] God damn... Bartender, whiskey, straight up.
Mark: [Smiling] So I guess you're here to pay up.
Hayden: [Every muscle in his back tightening] You cheated.
Mark: Oh really? And how's that?
Hayden: You didn't tell me what it was going to be like, if I'd known I never would have made the bet.
Mark: I didn't tell you? I did everything but stick a bullhorn in your ear, you wouldn't listen. "Ooh, I'm going to be more famous than you! Ooh, I'm not going to be a whiny Jedi! Ooh, no one is going to think I'm annoying! Ooh, I'm gonna' be the James Dean of Jedi!"
Hayden: All right, all right, all right, enough already!
Mark: [Starts snickering]
Hayden: Aw shut up...
Mark: [Imitating Hayden in high pitched, reedy voice] "I'm going to become the most powerful Jedi ev-ah!"
Hayden: Aw come on, you said you wouldn't!
Mark: I'm sorry, I'm sorry, you're right. That was mean of me.
Hayden: I thought it would be a good line.
Mark: That was YOURS?!? Not George's?
Hayden: [Nods and buries face in hands]
Mark: [Staring at the ceiling] Once again, thank you, Irvin Kershner.
Hayden: If I'd had him directing, I could've salvaged myself too.
Mark: Yeah, maybe. But you didn't.
Hayden: So what's it going to be? Money? Community Service?
Mark: Pinch hitting.
Hayden: What?
Mark: I've got a dinner theater gig down in the Catskills. Hope you can sing.
Hayden: GOD DAMN YOU!
Mark: Hey, YOU made the bet! You were the one that was convinced you'd be the greatest screen Jedi in history, not me. Now your confidence is your undoing. My apprentice...
Hayden: AUGH!
I imagine something like this must have already happened. Or if it hasn't, it will soon.
Setting: A quiet, anonymous bar somewhere out in the unfashionable side of L.A. Mark Hamill sits there nursing a drink. No one looks up when a new guy enters the bar. He's wearing dark glasses and a baseball cap, but everyone knows it's Hayden Christensen. He takes a seat next to Mark. They both stare off into the distance.
Hayden: What are you having?
Mark: A Shirley Temple.
Hayden: [shaking head] God damn... Bartender, whiskey, straight up.
Mark: [Smiling] So I guess you're here to pay up.
Hayden: [Every muscle in his back tightening] You cheated.
Mark: Oh really? And how's that?
Hayden: You didn't tell me what it was going to be like, if I'd known I never would have made the bet.
Mark: I didn't tell you? I did everything but stick a bullhorn in your ear, you wouldn't listen. "Ooh, I'm going to be more famous than you! Ooh, I'm not going to be a whiny Jedi! Ooh, no one is going to think I'm annoying! Ooh, I'm gonna' be the James Dean of Jedi!"
Hayden: All right, all right, all right, enough already!
Mark: [Starts snickering]
Hayden: Aw shut up...
Mark: [Imitating Hayden in high pitched, reedy voice] "I'm going to become the most powerful Jedi ev-ah!"
Hayden: Aw come on, you said you wouldn't!
Mark: I'm sorry, I'm sorry, you're right. That was mean of me.
Hayden: I thought it would be a good line.
Mark: That was YOURS?!? Not George's?
Hayden: [Nods and buries face in hands]
Mark: [Staring at the ceiling] Once again, thank you, Irvin Kershner.
Hayden: If I'd had him directing, I could've salvaged myself too.
Mark: Yeah, maybe. But you didn't.
Hayden: So what's it going to be? Money? Community Service?
Mark: Pinch hitting.
Hayden: What?
Mark: I've got a dinner theater gig down in the Catskills. Hope you can sing.
Hayden: GOD DAMN YOU!
Mark: Hey, YOU made the bet! You were the one that was convinced you'd be the greatest screen Jedi in history, not me. Now your confidence is your undoing. My apprentice...
Hayden: AUGH!
Labels: Movies, Random Blargh, Stupid Scripts
Thursday, September 08, 2005
Now That It's Educational, Make It Funny
After a quick look at the first draft of the non-fiction kiddy book, the powers that be have decided, "The content is all there, now just make it more snarky and entertaining."
I'm not going to see much of a problem with that. The first round was mostly just me making sure I got all my facts right anyway. I wasn't worried about how I was saying anything, as long as it was literate and accurate. Now that I've gotten the green light on the substance, it's time to tweak the style. This'll probably take a few days.
I also got word from my agent that my baby has arrived safe and sound. According to the Fed Ex tracking site, the document arrived and was signed for at 8:27 am by his local time, so I'm wondering whether he got woken up, or was in the middle of shaving or God knows what when the Fed Ex guy showed up. But oh well, the book is now in his hands and he tells me he'll get around to reading it as soon as schedule gets cleared out. He is apparently very busy at the moment.
I am also "auditioning" for a position as a writer on a drama show that is being developed here in Singapore. I didn't know a thing about this, but some people--the same ones I'm writing the book for--called me in and asked me if I had any dramatic script writing experience. I more or less said "Only for animation" and they weren't sure if they wanted to go with that. Then the woman developing the project had a sit down and talk with me and asked me to just write something up, which I've already done. I imagine they're poring over it with a fine toothed comb right now and asking themselves if they really want someone this sarcastic writing drama for them.
Oh well.
Having finally finished Shin Megami Tensei Nocturne, I am now thinking I need another ludicrously huge game to obsesses over. Either that or play one of the existing ones over again. And I should really think about starting that children's novel.
Back to laundry...
After a quick look at the first draft of the non-fiction kiddy book, the powers that be have decided, "The content is all there, now just make it more snarky and entertaining."
I'm not going to see much of a problem with that. The first round was mostly just me making sure I got all my facts right anyway. I wasn't worried about how I was saying anything, as long as it was literate and accurate. Now that I've gotten the green light on the substance, it's time to tweak the style. This'll probably take a few days.
I also got word from my agent that my baby has arrived safe and sound. According to the Fed Ex tracking site, the document arrived and was signed for at 8:27 am by his local time, so I'm wondering whether he got woken up, or was in the middle of shaving or God knows what when the Fed Ex guy showed up. But oh well, the book is now in his hands and he tells me he'll get around to reading it as soon as schedule gets cleared out. He is apparently very busy at the moment.
I am also "auditioning" for a position as a writer on a drama show that is being developed here in Singapore. I didn't know a thing about this, but some people--the same ones I'm writing the book for--called me in and asked me if I had any dramatic script writing experience. I more or less said "Only for animation" and they weren't sure if they wanted to go with that. Then the woman developing the project had a sit down and talk with me and asked me to just write something up, which I've already done. I imagine they're poring over it with a fine toothed comb right now and asking themselves if they really want someone this sarcastic writing drama for them.
Oh well.
Having finally finished Shin Megami Tensei Nocturne, I am now thinking I need another ludicrously huge game to obsesses over. Either that or play one of the existing ones over again. And I should really think about starting that children's novel.
Back to laundry...
Tuesday, September 06, 2005
Domestic Chores & Creative Debates
In the wake of finally sending the book off, things have quieted down in my head. And now the question becomes, "So when should the next book be worked on?"
I've actually been tempted to start on it the last couple of days, but have held off. I think I need to stew on it for another day or two. I'm still a bit nervous about whether I'm even up to the task of telling something that's suitable for kids, but I'm mighty curious to try. After reading The Thief of Always again I was struck by how little Clive Barker actually changed his style and language. If anything was simplified it was the plot and ideas, but the writing itself was at his usual level, potentially challenging a LOT of younger readers with new words they'd never seen before. That was reassuring in some way. On the other end of the spectrum you have Neil-O and Coraline and you can very much tell that this is a book meant to be read out loud. The rhythm and cadence of it are very vocal friendly and Neil-O has himself read it out loud to audiences in one sitting on more than one occasion.
I'm definitely taking my time with this one. It's going to be much shorter, probably only about 65,000-70,000 words, but it's a very, very different thing from what I'm used to, so I need to stop and think about a lot of things as I go along. I wouldn't be surprised if this ends up being the hardest thing I've attempted so far.
But first there is laundry to do and laundry to pick up. Possibly a video game magazine or two.
And so I am off.
In the wake of finally sending the book off, things have quieted down in my head. And now the question becomes, "So when should the next book be worked on?"
I've actually been tempted to start on it the last couple of days, but have held off. I think I need to stew on it for another day or two. I'm still a bit nervous about whether I'm even up to the task of telling something that's suitable for kids, but I'm mighty curious to try. After reading The Thief of Always again I was struck by how little Clive Barker actually changed his style and language. If anything was simplified it was the plot and ideas, but the writing itself was at his usual level, potentially challenging a LOT of younger readers with new words they'd never seen before. That was reassuring in some way. On the other end of the spectrum you have Neil-O and Coraline and you can very much tell that this is a book meant to be read out loud. The rhythm and cadence of it are very vocal friendly and Neil-O has himself read it out loud to audiences in one sitting on more than one occasion.
I'm definitely taking my time with this one. It's going to be much shorter, probably only about 65,000-70,000 words, but it's a very, very different thing from what I'm used to, so I need to stop and think about a lot of things as I go along. I wouldn't be surprised if this ends up being the hardest thing I've attempted so far.
But first there is laundry to do and laundry to pick up. Possibly a video game magazine or two.
And so I am off.
Labels: Lost In Loveless, Writing
Camp EA: Challenge Every Sport
I got invited to go down to the big Camp EA presentation that Electronic Arts was holding in a movie theater cineplex. They'd more or less rented out three of the screens, allowing people to play them on massive digital projectors, with some other booths set up to showcase some other games. They had a few models hanging around; some poor bastard that had to get decked out in dester storm style camo gear with a fake M-16, hanging around the door that led to the screens, a girl in a plastic style dress reminiscent of Japanese race queens, and some other slob in shirts and shorts kicking a soccer ball around to add to the "ambiance" of the event.
The event was open to the public, but that wasn't till 2 pm. Before that, the press had free reign, and of course, were offered the usual bribery in the form of goodies (I got an "EA Sports: IT'S IN THE GAME!" poster and a demo of the new Burnout game for the Xbox) and of course, the standard lucre, FOOD. In case you didn't know, all journalists expect, nay, DEMAND that they be fed for the time they spend wandering through an exhibition deciding whether to pan or praise a game.
First was a press conference where everyone was led into one of the theaters and a "cute" tutorial was played on-screen about the proper pronunciation of "EA Sports," which is apparently, "E... A... SPORTS," but you have to pitch it like you've been smoking cigarettes since birth.
After that the EA rep came on and talked about all the upcoming products, followed by an EXTREMELY confusing speech by the Eng Wah cinema rep, who talked about the miracle of playing games on the big screen, and then, to show us what he was talking about, gave us a demonstration by playing clips from some jazz/blues show. I did not make the connection. I mean, sure, the clip showed off that the digital projector can handle nice, rich blacks, but other than that, no show of color, clarity, or anything else that remotely hinted at what digital projection could be like, so I was left utterly confused.
I was also deeply filled with regret that the "Challenge Everything" kid did not put in an appearance, as I would have loved to have challenged him to a test of stamina by sticking his head in a toilet bowl and saying "Challenge this," while watching him flail, but alas, it was not meant to be.
Overall, EA has done better. Much better. The last Camp EA I went to, they went all out, pimping Battle For Middle Earth, showing off Middle Earth Online, even bringing the developers in for talks and interviews. Hell, they had a Middle Earth DINNER set up in a park at night where we journalists were forced to wear hobbit costumes. I had my lighter stolen by some punk kid pretending to be a kleptomaniac hobbit, who then replaced my lighter with someone else's, something I decided not mention lest said kid got fired. There were even snooty teenage girls dressed as Elves that wandered around not saying a word and repulsing every advance from all the horny, lonely journalists they came across (Which was everyone).
This one, while having more technical polish behind it, was sadly, SADLY lacking in the kind of content and juicy material that could have really impressed the press. I don't think that's completely their fault though, stuff worth talking about is sparse right now as most developers tear their hair out over coming to grips with the new consoles, so there's not a lot on the horizon that's really WORTH getting excited about.
I got invited to go down to the big Camp EA presentation that Electronic Arts was holding in a movie theater cineplex. They'd more or less rented out three of the screens, allowing people to play them on massive digital projectors, with some other booths set up to showcase some other games. They had a few models hanging around; some poor bastard that had to get decked out in dester storm style camo gear with a fake M-16, hanging around the door that led to the screens, a girl in a plastic style dress reminiscent of Japanese race queens, and some other slob in shirts and shorts kicking a soccer ball around to add to the "ambiance" of the event.
The event was open to the public, but that wasn't till 2 pm. Before that, the press had free reign, and of course, were offered the usual bribery in the form of goodies (I got an "EA Sports: IT'S IN THE GAME!" poster and a demo of the new Burnout game for the Xbox) and of course, the standard lucre, FOOD. In case you didn't know, all journalists expect, nay, DEMAND that they be fed for the time they spend wandering through an exhibition deciding whether to pan or praise a game.
First was a press conference where everyone was led into one of the theaters and a "cute" tutorial was played on-screen about the proper pronunciation of "EA Sports," which is apparently, "E... A... SPORTS," but you have to pitch it like you've been smoking cigarettes since birth.
After that the EA rep came on and talked about all the upcoming products, followed by an EXTREMELY confusing speech by the Eng Wah cinema rep, who talked about the miracle of playing games on the big screen, and then, to show us what he was talking about, gave us a demonstration by playing clips from some jazz/blues show. I did not make the connection. I mean, sure, the clip showed off that the digital projector can handle nice, rich blacks, but other than that, no show of color, clarity, or anything else that remotely hinted at what digital projection could be like, so I was left utterly confused.
I was also deeply filled with regret that the "Challenge Everything" kid did not put in an appearance, as I would have loved to have challenged him to a test of stamina by sticking his head in a toilet bowl and saying "Challenge this," while watching him flail, but alas, it was not meant to be.
Overall, EA has done better. Much better. The last Camp EA I went to, they went all out, pimping Battle For Middle Earth, showing off Middle Earth Online, even bringing the developers in for talks and interviews. Hell, they had a Middle Earth DINNER set up in a park at night where we journalists were forced to wear hobbit costumes. I had my lighter stolen by some punk kid pretending to be a kleptomaniac hobbit, who then replaced my lighter with someone else's, something I decided not mention lest said kid got fired. There were even snooty teenage girls dressed as Elves that wandered around not saying a word and repulsing every advance from all the horny, lonely journalists they came across (Which was everyone).
This one, while having more technical polish behind it, was sadly, SADLY lacking in the kind of content and juicy material that could have really impressed the press. I don't think that's completely their fault though, stuff worth talking about is sparse right now as most developers tear their hair out over coming to grips with the new consoles, so there's not a lot on the horizon that's really WORTH getting excited about.
Labels: Games, Journalism
Monday, September 05, 2005
Aloha, My Novel
And it's gone.
I feel like a Kansas farmer sitting there watching his kid push up his glasses and hoist his suitcase to say, "Well, g'bye Pa. G'bye Ma. I'm off to the city."
The Pale Summer has gone off into the big bad world to see if it can make it's way. Or at least, gone off to my agent to see if he can sell it. And all the usual parental feelings--I would guess, since I'm not a parent--accompany the departure. There's the hope it'll arrive safely, there's the hope it'll find a good home, and there's the hope that it'll make something of itself and do something to be proud of, like end up on a bookshelf.
It's a little sad, because I've nursed this thing for so long. It started as an idea a few years ago, that toddled around doing not much of anything except uttering the occasional lines, or suggesting a particular scene. And then puberty hit and the thing just grew and grew incredibly rapidly, finding a character, plot and voice. And now it's ready to see if it can make it out in the world along with all those other books, and I'm proud of it, but worried about it too.
I'm hoping of course, that this will be the one, that The Pale Summer will finally be the book that gets into print, but if it doesn't, there are other books to write. I'm hoping it won't come to that, that I won't have to invest more hope in another book, rather than writing with the knowledge that it too will see print, but I'm prepared for it. It just won't be much fun.
And the other book, the non-fiction kiddy book is done and away as well. Nothing to do but wait on that too.
And, as promised, I am down to one cigarette in my pack, and it is my final one. I said when The Pale Summer was done, I would stop smoking, and since it's off and away, and it can't be much more done than that. So after a final cigarette, I am quitting smoking. Or going to try anyway.
Oh well, I suppose you shouldn't be smoking while writing a children's novel anyway.
And it's gone.
I feel like a Kansas farmer sitting there watching his kid push up his glasses and hoist his suitcase to say, "Well, g'bye Pa. G'bye Ma. I'm off to the city."
The Pale Summer has gone off into the big bad world to see if it can make it's way. Or at least, gone off to my agent to see if he can sell it. And all the usual parental feelings--I would guess, since I'm not a parent--accompany the departure. There's the hope it'll arrive safely, there's the hope it'll find a good home, and there's the hope that it'll make something of itself and do something to be proud of, like end up on a bookshelf.
It's a little sad, because I've nursed this thing for so long. It started as an idea a few years ago, that toddled around doing not much of anything except uttering the occasional lines, or suggesting a particular scene. And then puberty hit and the thing just grew and grew incredibly rapidly, finding a character, plot and voice. And now it's ready to see if it can make it out in the world along with all those other books, and I'm proud of it, but worried about it too.
I'm hoping of course, that this will be the one, that The Pale Summer will finally be the book that gets into print, but if it doesn't, there are other books to write. I'm hoping it won't come to that, that I won't have to invest more hope in another book, rather than writing with the knowledge that it too will see print, but I'm prepared for it. It just won't be much fun.
And the other book, the non-fiction kiddy book is done and away as well. Nothing to do but wait on that too.
And, as promised, I am down to one cigarette in my pack, and it is my final one. I said when The Pale Summer was done, I would stop smoking, and since it's off and away, and it can't be much more done than that. So after a final cigarette, I am quitting smoking. Or going to try anyway.
Oh well, I suppose you shouldn't be smoking while writing a children's novel anyway.
Labels: Novel Writing, The Pale Summer, Writing
Sunday, September 04, 2005
Final Check
Well, that's about it for The Pale Summer.
The changes to the synopsis and the manuscript itself have all been made. I went through them both one last time to find anymore errors that I might have missed the last few times 'round and, unsurprisingly, found a few. But then that's to be expected to some degree. Even when you get as far as the actual printing of the book, with all those words, somehow a few always manage to escape even the most eagle-eyed proof readers.
The normal cover page has been printed out. If you're not familiar with the format, all the pertinent information is at the top. In my case, this means I have the full contact details of my agent, and then right under all that, the tag "Representing: Wayne Santos". On the right, I have an approximate word count. When the 1st draft was done, the thing weighed in at over 112, 000 words. After the revisions, it's gone down to 109,000. That's roughly 11 pages chopped out. It's certainly possible that should an editor look at it, still more will go, but I'll wait and see on that. Oh yeah, and of course smack dab in the center is the title of the book with my name under it.
The "good" book cover will also be included, though I'll probably send an e-mail to my agent explaining why exactly that's in there. Included along with the manuscript and a 9 page synopsis will be a CD with both the manuscript and synopsis files burned on it. Tomorrow both documents will be printed out, courtesy of some place near where the Fiance works, and then it'll be mailed off to America and more or less be permanently beyond my control with nothing to do but wait.
Hopefully, third time really will be the charm.
It will be good day indeed when the sending out of a book is not a nerve wracking experience filled with the litany of "Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease..." running itself over and over again in my head.
But until then the writing continues.
Next up, reading more children's books. Well, weird ones, anyway. I'm going to be going through Clive Barker's The Thief of Always again to take more careful note of the difference between the writing he does there, and the writing he does in something like, say, Imajica, or The Great and Secret Show or Weaveworld.
Well, that's about it for The Pale Summer.
The changes to the synopsis and the manuscript itself have all been made. I went through them both one last time to find anymore errors that I might have missed the last few times 'round and, unsurprisingly, found a few. But then that's to be expected to some degree. Even when you get as far as the actual printing of the book, with all those words, somehow a few always manage to escape even the most eagle-eyed proof readers.
The normal cover page has been printed out. If you're not familiar with the format, all the pertinent information is at the top. In my case, this means I have the full contact details of my agent, and then right under all that, the tag "Representing: Wayne Santos". On the right, I have an approximate word count. When the 1st draft was done, the thing weighed in at over 112, 000 words. After the revisions, it's gone down to 109,000. That's roughly 11 pages chopped out. It's certainly possible that should an editor look at it, still more will go, but I'll wait and see on that. Oh yeah, and of course smack dab in the center is the title of the book with my name under it.
The "good" book cover will also be included, though I'll probably send an e-mail to my agent explaining why exactly that's in there. Included along with the manuscript and a 9 page synopsis will be a CD with both the manuscript and synopsis files burned on it. Tomorrow both documents will be printed out, courtesy of some place near where the Fiance works, and then it'll be mailed off to America and more or less be permanently beyond my control with nothing to do but wait.
Hopefully, third time really will be the charm.
It will be good day indeed when the sending out of a book is not a nerve wracking experience filled with the litany of "Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease..." running itself over and over again in my head.
But until then the writing continues.
Next up, reading more children's books. Well, weird ones, anyway. I'm going to be going through Clive Barker's The Thief of Always again to take more careful note of the difference between the writing he does there, and the writing he does in something like, say, Imajica, or The Great and Secret Show or Weaveworld.
Labels: Novel Writing, The Pale Summer, Writing
Saturday, September 03, 2005
Getting Close Now
Another day or two and I think the rewrite (At least this round of it) will be done, and I shouldn't tool around with the book anymore until I actually get an editor at a publishing house weigh in with his or her opinions.
I'm now at that phase where I have been thinking and staring at the manuscript too long, and it's starting to feel less and less like a story I was excited about, and more and more like just a meaningless jumble of letters. The initial fire that sparked off those passages of the first draft has had the water of editing thrown on it. Too much thought and calculation are hanging in the air, and it makes it hard to look at the story and wonder if it's any good or not. I think this is normal if you spend waaaaaaay too much time on anything, be it a novel, a television show you've spent too many hours in edit with, or even a videogame you play beyond all reason, like an MMORPG. It's kind of like taking any word and repeating it to yourself over and over again; do it too much and the word loses any meaning for you.
There are a few major changes left, and then some tweaking throughout. Then one final pass, a scan over the entire thing just to see how it all hangs together with these new changes, and then it'll be time to walk on over to the printer at the shopping mall several blocks down, and let them exhaust an entire cartridge of ink or toner to print it out.
Getting there. Nearly done.
Another day or two and I think the rewrite (At least this round of it) will be done, and I shouldn't tool around with the book anymore until I actually get an editor at a publishing house weigh in with his or her opinions.
I'm now at that phase where I have been thinking and staring at the manuscript too long, and it's starting to feel less and less like a story I was excited about, and more and more like just a meaningless jumble of letters. The initial fire that sparked off those passages of the first draft has had the water of editing thrown on it. Too much thought and calculation are hanging in the air, and it makes it hard to look at the story and wonder if it's any good or not. I think this is normal if you spend waaaaaaay too much time on anything, be it a novel, a television show you've spent too many hours in edit with, or even a videogame you play beyond all reason, like an MMORPG. It's kind of like taking any word and repeating it to yourself over and over again; do it too much and the word loses any meaning for you.
There are a few major changes left, and then some tweaking throughout. Then one final pass, a scan over the entire thing just to see how it all hangs together with these new changes, and then it'll be time to walk on over to the printer at the shopping mall several blocks down, and let them exhaust an entire cartridge of ink or toner to print it out.
Getting there. Nearly done.
Labels: Novel Writing, The Pale Summer
Friday, September 02, 2005
Them Damn Rewrites
I think it's time to pay attention to The Pale Summer again. Here it is, September, and I am bound and determined to get this thing polished and printed and mailed off. After that, it's all in my agent's hands. For those of you who are curious, or just didn't know, here's the process of Trying To Get Published. Maybe someday that will change to How I Got Published, but for the moment, Trying is more accurate.
First, you have to write the damn thing. That is much, MUCH easier said than done, as I know a lot of people who have ideas for stories, but never do anything about it, citing lack of time, lack of patience, lack of interest, or a few other reasons, but the number one obstacle to getting a book in print is actually writing the book itself. Even if you manage to accomplish this task (Which is not easy, and congratulations to anyone that got even that far) then there is the sometimes even more daunting task of getting it published.
There are a couple of ways to go about it. The first is to just send it out to the publishers and hope that it gets read and liked. This is hard, but not impossible. Publishers have a term for unsolicited manuscripts--that is, manuscripts sent without being first asked if there's interest in looking at it--and that term is "The Slush Pile." That's the stack of books from hopeful writers all over the world that would like to be published authors. More often than not, these slush piles are looked at by interns and assistants first to separate the chaff from the wheat, and if you're lucky, your book will be wheat and eventually get looked at by an editor who will then decide whether to take your book on or not.
The other way to do it is to get a literary agent. That is the route I took. Agents represent you and take a cut of the earnings (American standard rates are 15% at the moment) and if they're legit, you DO NOT PAY THEM A SINGLE PENNY. This is important. The agent works for you and represents you. If he or she starts billing you for anything, then odds are they in serious trouble, or they are not legit, as an agent should only ever make money from the sales made by your book. Agents bypass the whole slush pile issue by getting your book straight into the hands of the editor. They have relationships with editors, talk to them regularly, and keep a finger on the pulse of the industry. So it helps somewhat in that because they know what's going, they can often spot or be informed of a need a particular editor has, and if your book happens to fit the bill, a quick phone call is all it takes for said editor to reply, "Great, send it over, let me take a look at it!"
Note this doesn't guarantee your book will get published, but it raises the odds somewhat, and if your book does get rejected, this speeds up the process of getting back into circulation with another editor at another publishing house.
So what I am doing now is working on my novel with some of the comments I've gotten, trying to get it as good as I can for the moment. When that's done, I'll revise the synopsis that goes along with it, and then mail the whole package off to the States and my agent. Once it's in his hands, he'll make the calls, write the e-mails, and then get in touch me occasionally to tell me what's happening with my book. Average response times for editors looking at manuscripts is in weeks, so it's usually a month or two after getting a book that an editor makes a decision.
And hopefully, a few months from now, I'll be able to make some kind of post about what it's like to have a book accepted by a publisher. And if not, well, there's still Lost In Loveless to write, and two more novels after that. I'm still set as far as knowing what the next three books will be, but after that, I'm kind of lost.
But in the mean time, it's back to the book...
I think it's time to pay attention to The Pale Summer again. Here it is, September, and I am bound and determined to get this thing polished and printed and mailed off. After that, it's all in my agent's hands. For those of you who are curious, or just didn't know, here's the process of Trying To Get Published. Maybe someday that will change to How I Got Published, but for the moment, Trying is more accurate.
First, you have to write the damn thing. That is much, MUCH easier said than done, as I know a lot of people who have ideas for stories, but never do anything about it, citing lack of time, lack of patience, lack of interest, or a few other reasons, but the number one obstacle to getting a book in print is actually writing the book itself. Even if you manage to accomplish this task (Which is not easy, and congratulations to anyone that got even that far) then there is the sometimes even more daunting task of getting it published.
There are a couple of ways to go about it. The first is to just send it out to the publishers and hope that it gets read and liked. This is hard, but not impossible. Publishers have a term for unsolicited manuscripts--that is, manuscripts sent without being first asked if there's interest in looking at it--and that term is "The Slush Pile." That's the stack of books from hopeful writers all over the world that would like to be published authors. More often than not, these slush piles are looked at by interns and assistants first to separate the chaff from the wheat, and if you're lucky, your book will be wheat and eventually get looked at by an editor who will then decide whether to take your book on or not.
The other way to do it is to get a literary agent. That is the route I took. Agents represent you and take a cut of the earnings (American standard rates are 15% at the moment) and if they're legit, you DO NOT PAY THEM A SINGLE PENNY. This is important. The agent works for you and represents you. If he or she starts billing you for anything, then odds are they in serious trouble, or they are not legit, as an agent should only ever make money from the sales made by your book. Agents bypass the whole slush pile issue by getting your book straight into the hands of the editor. They have relationships with editors, talk to them regularly, and keep a finger on the pulse of the industry. So it helps somewhat in that because they know what's going, they can often spot or be informed of a need a particular editor has, and if your book happens to fit the bill, a quick phone call is all it takes for said editor to reply, "Great, send it over, let me take a look at it!"
Note this doesn't guarantee your book will get published, but it raises the odds somewhat, and if your book does get rejected, this speeds up the process of getting back into circulation with another editor at another publishing house.
So what I am doing now is working on my novel with some of the comments I've gotten, trying to get it as good as I can for the moment. When that's done, I'll revise the synopsis that goes along with it, and then mail the whole package off to the States and my agent. Once it's in his hands, he'll make the calls, write the e-mails, and then get in touch me occasionally to tell me what's happening with my book. Average response times for editors looking at manuscripts is in weeks, so it's usually a month or two after getting a book that an editor makes a decision.
And hopefully, a few months from now, I'll be able to make some kind of post about what it's like to have a book accepted by a publisher. And if not, well, there's still Lost In Loveless to write, and two more novels after that. I'm still set as far as knowing what the next three books will be, but after that, I'm kind of lost.
But in the mean time, it's back to the book...
Labels: Novel Writing, The Pale Summer, Writing
Thursday, September 01, 2005
Horrifyingly Inappropriate Bedtime Stories
Despite the fact that I am not a parent and don't plan on it, I have over the last couple of years, found myself in the position of telling bedtime stories on occasion at the demand of the Fiance. And so every once in a while, late at night, I will find myself starting with "Once upon a time..." and then going on from there to tell the most horrible stories that no child on Earth should ever have to hear. I don't remember most of these stories as I just make them up as I go along, though the Fiance seems to remember a few of them. The last story I told was apparently about "The Little Sycophant," about a guy that wanted to suck up better than anyone else in the kingdom. Last night I had to tell another story, and this was about "The Little Yellow Bird."
Once upon a time, there was a Little Yellow Bird that lived in a forest and decided one day that it was time to build a nest. But he couldn't because he didn't know how to build a nest as a result of getting kicked out of his own nest at a very young age by his drunken, neglectful mother. He was quite intent on building a nest though, and decided that he must learn. He wondered how he was going to go about this when he looked up into the sky and saw the biggest, strongest bird he'd ever laid eyes on. It flew up so high and flew so fast, it left a trail of white feathers behind it. It was chasing after a smaller bird that also left a white trail, and it managed to catch it's prety without even touching it, by sending off a trail of whiter feathers after its victim that, upon contact, caused it to explode and burst into flame. The Little Yellow Bird decided this huge bird must be the one to teach it how to build an amazing nest, and so went off to find it and learn.
The Little Bird wandered far and wide, and eventually came across a Cute Little Rabbit that seemed to be lost.
"What's the matter?" the Little Yellow Bird asked.
"I've lost my way and can't find my mother," the Cute Little Rabbit said.
The Little Yellow Bird was enraged. "Your drunken, neglectful mother has abandoned, just like mine did!"
"No, I just got separated, I have to find he-"
"NO! She abandoned you because she's a no good drunk! Stay with me! I'm going to find the greatest bird in the world, and learn how to build the best nest in the world, and we can live together without our stupid, drunken, neglectful mothers!"
It took a little doing, but the Little Yellow Bird finally convinced the Cute Little Rabbit to join, and off they went. Eventually in their travels, they found a Little Deer that was frolicking through the forest while its wise mother looked on.
The Little Yellow Bird was angry, for he knew, he just knew, that that terrible mother was waiting for the right moment to get drunk and neglect her child. The Little Yellow Bird decided to save the Little Deer from this horrible fate.
"We've got to DO something!" the Little Yellow Bird said.
"They seem happy," the Cute Little Bunny said.
"No! She's just going to hurt that Little Deer when she gets drunk and angry and neglectful!"
Fortunately for the Little Yellow Bird, the Cute Little Bunny had a gift for imitating the voices of other forest creatures, and so a plan was hatched. The Little Yellow Bird went off to talk to the Little Deer, while the Cute Little Bunny hung off the edge of a huge gorge in the forest and said in its best Little Deer voice, "Mother! Mother! Help, help! I'm going to fall!"
The Mother tore through the forest straight for the gorge and plunged to her death in her effort to save her child.
"At last!" the Little Yellow Bird said to the Little Deer, "You've been saved! You'll never know the pain of your drunken, neglectful mother again!"
"But my mother doesn't drink!" the Little Deer said in tears.
"They ALL drink," the Little Yellow Bird said. "I know. Oh, I know. Join us! I'm building a nest!"
And so, with no mother, the Little Deer joined them. The trio went on, following the trail of the great bird in the sky, and eventually they found where it lived. It was a strange place, full of metal and steel, and many humans that used words like "Intercontinental Ballistic Missile system" and "Top Gun," and "Air Defense Network."
Here, they found one human that took pity on them, a huge, powerful man that was not too bright. Most of the people there called him "Village Idiot" or "Vi" for short as he swept up after the others. The Little Yellow Bird asked Vi, "Where is the Great Bird, please? I need to learn how to build nest for my friends and I."
Vi looked at them and said, "Duh, what bird?"
The Little Yellow Bird explained and Vi said, "Oh, you mean the jets in the hanger! That's over there," he said, pointing to a large building with a curved ceiling. "That's where they stay when the pilots don't use them."
"What's a pilot?" The Little Yellow Bird asked.
"Duh, that's the guy that flies the plane and lands it."
"So the pilot takes care of the plane?" the Little Yellow Bird asked, getting angry.
"No, he just flies it."
The Little Yellow Bird grew enraged. Even the Great Bird was victimized by an angry, neglectful, drunken mother and needed to be saved! The Little Yellow Bird WOULD save the great bird!
Fortunately, Vi, unbeknownst to most of the people on the base, was an idiot savant with a flair for manipulating military defensive systems! In short order, at the Little Yellow Bird's request, he rigged the base so that all of its mines, sentry drones, missiles and automated artillery guns turned on the foul abusers of the great bird and turned them into mangled, screaming bloody heaps that only lived for a few more minutes after their shredding. The great bird was saved!
The Little Yellow Bird, the Cute Little Bunny, the Little Dear and Vi went to the hanger and saw the great bird. It was beautiful. Vi told them that now that entire NORAD defense system was attacking itself and civilization was about to die, no one would need this hanger anymore, and that the three friends could live there. And so that's what they did! And they lived happily ever after, with no more drunken, neglectful mothers to hurt them!
I never said this was a good bedtime story, did I?
Despite the fact that I am not a parent and don't plan on it, I have over the last couple of years, found myself in the position of telling bedtime stories on occasion at the demand of the Fiance. And so every once in a while, late at night, I will find myself starting with "Once upon a time..." and then going on from there to tell the most horrible stories that no child on Earth should ever have to hear. I don't remember most of these stories as I just make them up as I go along, though the Fiance seems to remember a few of them. The last story I told was apparently about "The Little Sycophant," about a guy that wanted to suck up better than anyone else in the kingdom. Last night I had to tell another story, and this was about "The Little Yellow Bird."
Once upon a time, there was a Little Yellow Bird that lived in a forest and decided one day that it was time to build a nest. But he couldn't because he didn't know how to build a nest as a result of getting kicked out of his own nest at a very young age by his drunken, neglectful mother. He was quite intent on building a nest though, and decided that he must learn. He wondered how he was going to go about this when he looked up into the sky and saw the biggest, strongest bird he'd ever laid eyes on. It flew up so high and flew so fast, it left a trail of white feathers behind it. It was chasing after a smaller bird that also left a white trail, and it managed to catch it's prety without even touching it, by sending off a trail of whiter feathers after its victim that, upon contact, caused it to explode and burst into flame. The Little Yellow Bird decided this huge bird must be the one to teach it how to build an amazing nest, and so went off to find it and learn.
The Little Bird wandered far and wide, and eventually came across a Cute Little Rabbit that seemed to be lost.
"What's the matter?" the Little Yellow Bird asked.
"I've lost my way and can't find my mother," the Cute Little Rabbit said.
The Little Yellow Bird was enraged. "Your drunken, neglectful mother has abandoned, just like mine did!"
"No, I just got separated, I have to find he-"
"NO! She abandoned you because she's a no good drunk! Stay with me! I'm going to find the greatest bird in the world, and learn how to build the best nest in the world, and we can live together without our stupid, drunken, neglectful mothers!"
It took a little doing, but the Little Yellow Bird finally convinced the Cute Little Rabbit to join, and off they went. Eventually in their travels, they found a Little Deer that was frolicking through the forest while its wise mother looked on.
The Little Yellow Bird was angry, for he knew, he just knew, that that terrible mother was waiting for the right moment to get drunk and neglect her child. The Little Yellow Bird decided to save the Little Deer from this horrible fate.
"We've got to DO something!" the Little Yellow Bird said.
"They seem happy," the Cute Little Bunny said.
"No! She's just going to hurt that Little Deer when she gets drunk and angry and neglectful!"
Fortunately for the Little Yellow Bird, the Cute Little Bunny had a gift for imitating the voices of other forest creatures, and so a plan was hatched. The Little Yellow Bird went off to talk to the Little Deer, while the Cute Little Bunny hung off the edge of a huge gorge in the forest and said in its best Little Deer voice, "Mother! Mother! Help, help! I'm going to fall!"
The Mother tore through the forest straight for the gorge and plunged to her death in her effort to save her child.
"At last!" the Little Yellow Bird said to the Little Deer, "You've been saved! You'll never know the pain of your drunken, neglectful mother again!"
"But my mother doesn't drink!" the Little Deer said in tears.
"They ALL drink," the Little Yellow Bird said. "I know. Oh, I know. Join us! I'm building a nest!"
And so, with no mother, the Little Deer joined them. The trio went on, following the trail of the great bird in the sky, and eventually they found where it lived. It was a strange place, full of metal and steel, and many humans that used words like "Intercontinental Ballistic Missile system" and "Top Gun," and "Air Defense Network."
Here, they found one human that took pity on them, a huge, powerful man that was not too bright. Most of the people there called him "Village Idiot" or "Vi" for short as he swept up after the others. The Little Yellow Bird asked Vi, "Where is the Great Bird, please? I need to learn how to build nest for my friends and I."
Vi looked at them and said, "Duh, what bird?"
The Little Yellow Bird explained and Vi said, "Oh, you mean the jets in the hanger! That's over there," he said, pointing to a large building with a curved ceiling. "That's where they stay when the pilots don't use them."
"What's a pilot?" The Little Yellow Bird asked.
"Duh, that's the guy that flies the plane and lands it."
"So the pilot takes care of the plane?" the Little Yellow Bird asked, getting angry.
"No, he just flies it."
The Little Yellow Bird grew enraged. Even the Great Bird was victimized by an angry, neglectful, drunken mother and needed to be saved! The Little Yellow Bird WOULD save the great bird!
Fortunately, Vi, unbeknownst to most of the people on the base, was an idiot savant with a flair for manipulating military defensive systems! In short order, at the Little Yellow Bird's request, he rigged the base so that all of its mines, sentry drones, missiles and automated artillery guns turned on the foul abusers of the great bird and turned them into mangled, screaming bloody heaps that only lived for a few more minutes after their shredding. The great bird was saved!
The Little Yellow Bird, the Cute Little Bunny, the Little Dear and Vi went to the hanger and saw the great bird. It was beautiful. Vi told them that now that entire NORAD defense system was attacking itself and civilization was about to die, no one would need this hanger anymore, and that the three friends could live there. And so that's what they did! And they lived happily ever after, with no more drunken, neglectful mothers to hurt them!
I never said this was a good bedtime story, did I?
Labels: Random Blargh, Writing
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