Writing in a Vacuum and Other Stories

So the Oscars happened. I haven't seen Green Book so I'm not going to comment too much on the Academy's choice of it as the best picture of 2018, but they don't exactly have a great track record. (I was disappointed in Green Book upon announcement, because it uses the name of Victor Hugo Green's book for black people to travel safely--in the north as well as south--in '60s America without telling his story, which deserves its own movie.) What I will talk about is the argument that you should judge the art, not the artist, and the desire to somehow write in a vacuum. The artist will always be judged. Period. I'm not going to argue whether it is wrong or right, or whether you should or not. It is a simple fact. The only way to not be judged is to remain anonymous or in obscurity until your death, and then they'll judge your bones. It's what people do.

The writer who has come closest to anonymity and fame  of late is Elena Ferrante, author of the Neapolitan Quartet beginning with My Brilliant Friend. And I may have missed her being outed; I recall there was some scandal about her "real identity" and I didn't read it, because I don't want to know who she "really" is. I read My Brilliant Friend and enjoyed it, but I haven't read the rest of the books yet. They are intense, and I will finish them sometime. I should probably jump on it before someone reveals her identity to me.

I can be stubborn about reading classics and beloved books. I finally got around to reading William Faulkner, which I somehow avoided despite taking AP English in high school and completing an English degree with honors at Rutgers University, so I get around to these things eventually. I had read Faulkner's Knight's Gambit stories and found them mediocre, but Sanctuary was quite good. Joyce Carol Oates nudhzed me into reading it, and I think she's disappointed that I didn't crow about it. It's a great book, sure. Disturbing, and sort of the flip-side to To Kill a Mockingbird, with Horace Benbow sitting in for Atticus Finch, and being much more human. It begins in media res and you have to piece it together, and while I enjoyed his portrayal of hypocritical small-town mores, his structure made it a bit of a chore. Faulkner called it a potboiler after the critical response. 1930's America wasn't ready for a dose of ugly reality. It's still shocking today.

I read a good post by writer Joseph D'Agnese about the power of Sleep. He's not the first to talk about the benefits of sleeping on a plot problem or other writing block, but he's talked to sleep doctors, and The goal of sleep is to organize your thoughts and consolidate learning. Americans are chronically under-rested, so this says a lot. Get your sleep in. When you have a problem, sleep on it. Use a sleep app to measure how much sleep you are getting, if necessary. I had a big sleep debt from sleep apnea, and I am still very sensitive to lack of sleep. I get cranky, unfocused, gloomy. I watch for it, and I go to bed super-early when I see it happening, to head it off. You'll be surprised how a few good nights' sleep will improve your outlook. Try it.

When you're not sleeping, you can go to events like Noir at the Bar Hoboken. Jason Pinter, publisher of Polis Books, gathered a great bunch of writers at Mulligan's pub in Hoboken, in stumbling distance of the PATH train. The bar is an ungentrified old school pub that gave him the back room, and it was packed Sunday night. Readers included Jen Conley, Kellye Garrett, Ed Aymar, John Vercher, and Jim Fusilli. It was a great night, and I hope he does it again soon. Club soda and lime is free, and five bucks for curry fries? I might move in! The Guinness is poured well and at seven bucks ain't too bad. It's around the corner from Little City Books, a nice shop that does keep a strong mystery section, and they sold books at the event. It was a good time, and I hope to see you there for the next one. John Vercher, whose book Three Fifths comes out from Polis Books this year, read from a work in progress about a beat-up fighter who finds a body in his trunk and doesn't remember how it got there. Can't wait to read the rest of that one!

Speaking of Jen Conley, her YA novel Seven Ways to Get Rid of Harry is wonderful. If you read her story of the same name in Protectors, she has expanded it into a great little book. She brought me back to my childhood with this gripping debut. Danny Zelko battles with his mother's abusive boyfriend amidst the helplessness, confusion, and tumultuous friendships of his formative thirteenth summer. Sometimes harrowing, often funny, this is a great and necessary read for anyone who wants to understand what it's like for boys in that liminal stage, when faced with the challenge of a bad role model. It's available for pre-order from Down & Out Books.

This year, the real stunner of a book will be The Border, by Don Winslow. Following his breakout crime novel The Power of the Dog and the epic sequel The Cartel, this finale creates an American drug war trilogy to challenge the L.A. Quartet. Arturo Keller is now head of the DEA and has a chance to enact real change, but as a man of vindictive obsession, he wants to take out the money men who keep the cartel alive by allowing them to launder their cash to fund real estate around the world. He retains the epic sprawl of the second novel but tightens the narrative so the story burns at a feverish clip, like we are bingeing a NetFlix series. And as always, he is unafraid to stare into the abyss of our own making, asking why Americans need more painkillers than the rest of the world. Drugs come across our borders because we want them.

Coming from a family that's no stranger to the drug war--one cousin lost, others saved after what felt like endless stumbles back into hell--I thanked Don Winslow for his sympathetic portrait of addicts, migrant children fleeing the gangs our money created, police who destroy their souls working undercover, and their superiors who have to make impossible decisions. He spares no one: the Italian mob, street gangs, the cartel, the bankers and lawyers and politicians who protect their money, and the system itself, which generates billions in jobs to run in circles chasing drugs when we know how it gets here and why. It doesn't get smuggled up a mule's behind in the desert by migrants looking for a better life, it rolls in on tractor trailers, one every 15 seconds. When I worked at the shipping terminal, one of our vendors built gamma ray scanners that were supposed to quickly scan those trucks for bodies and contraband as they rolled through the border crossings. Sometimes they work, if a bribe isn't involved.

The ARC of The Border is 711 pages and I read it in under a week, in hundred-page marathon sessions, forcing myself to put the book down. Winslow is in full mastery of his voice here, and conjures fully-fleshed characters from the earth like planted dragon's teeth. I won't forget Jacqui, Nico, Detective Cirello, Marisol, Belinda "the Fosfora" and many more. Coming from the "red wedding" of dread that was The Cartel, I was pleasantly surprised to find closely guarded hope in this novel, as Keller walks face first into withering fire to save everything he fights for. I can't say enough about this one. It had the chance to stumble into parody or lose its head. I enjoyed The Force, but wasn't satisfied by its conclusion. The Border earns its ending with plenty to spare.

Back to the Oscars. Instead of decrying the Academy's choices--it's funny how Americans keep getting shocked by how conservative voters can be--I'd rather talk briefly about the movies I did like.
So instead of 88 lines about 44 women, I give you 30 lines about 15 movies. (Remember that song? It's a rather brilliant one-hit wonder by The Nails)

The Wife stars Glenn Close, the real Nobel winner
   She's sick of pretending, and guts her hubs for dinner.
In Leave No Trace Ben Foster is a vet living rough,
   His daughter is sick of woods life, and gives him some tough love.
If Beale Street Could Talk, it would break your heart.
   This old story's sadly fresh as ever, the film a work of art.
You Were Never Really Here, improves upon the novella.
    Lynne Ramsay gives the girl some agency, and she saves Joaquin-fella.
Roma packs a lot of history into its gorgeous frame,
    Cuaron breaks Mexican taboo and gives indio Yalitza Aparicio well-deserved fame.
Sorry to Bother You is too weird to get an Oscar but see it anyway.
   It spoofs office work and Amazon and will make you laugh and neigh.
BlacKKKlansman by Spike Lee tells the story of a black cop who
   Busted up a klavern, and spied on civil rights activists too.
Annihilation is the Space Odyssey of this millennium,
   It will stun you with fractal visuals and make you wonder who's the alien.
First Reformed with Ethan Hawke has a lot to say of men
   Who get obsessed with religion, and let others martyr them.
Black Panther was a blast, Wakanda bright and new
   It made me give a damn about heroes in underoos.
The Favourite is brilliant, vulgar, and full of dastardly deceits.
   The royal court is vicious both in the sheets and in the streets.
Blindspotting was overlooked, a daring tale of Oakland movers
    If gentrifiers don't get them killed, they might live to drive for uber.
Mandy you will love or hate, a living heavy metal album cover.
   Nicholas Cage chews the scenery to avenge his murdered lover.
Bird Box was better than A Quiet Place, its monsters won't get old,
  If you scare easy, you might want to watch through a blindfold.

(I have no rhythm and I don't care.)

Another Oscars Post

Being a writer, it won't surprise you that for me story comes first.

Character should build story, or story should rely on character--really the same thing--but when story fails, for me the movie can become very tedious. Pity my wife Sarah, who has to hear me sighing and folding my arms when the story goes belly-up and the fish starts to stink.*

I can forgive a threadbare story like Mad Max: Fury Road if it makes sense and characters behave the way they do for a reasons, even if that reason is not immediately clear. If they are evil because you need a villain, that is just lazy writing. If they fall in love because you need a romance, ditto. I love fairy tales and cartoons, but even their characters have motivations. The wolf is hungry. The witch is insulted in Sleeping Beauty. The coyote has a gadget fetish and his holistic doctor said road runner gizzards will cure his impotence.

Okay, one of those is contrived, but you get the point. Poor Wile E. would've been a nicer coyote if he'd been born after Yohimbine was prescribed for erectile dysfunction.

My favorite script of the year was Get Out. Horror and comedy get shafted because they look easy to people who haven't tried them. Comedy seems natural, when it takes more work and practice than other forms. Good horror is very tough to pull off. Jordan Peele managed both masterfully in his script, and I am very glad he won for best original screenplay. I would've gone as far as voting for it for best picture, and if it had been released later in the year, it may have had a better shot. It was a phenomenon, and seeing it in theaters was a great experience. Roger Ebert used to say a great film has three great scenes and no bad ones, and Get Out has at least three.

There are characters who seem over the top or bizarre, but every single one of them gets explained, quickly and brilliantly, once we know what's going on. The film bears repeat viewing, and every time I watch it I catch more little touches, subtle choices that all drive the story and make sense within it.

Two films that I really, really, really wanted to like more were Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri and The Shape of Water. I'll start with Martin McDonagh's film about a mother grieving for her daughter's brutal murder and anger over the authorities' inability to catch the killer. It's a good premise, but falls apart almost immediately because of little failures in verisimilitude. I like McDonagh a lot, I loved In Bruges and enjoyed Seven Psychopaths. I think his brother John Michael's The Guard and Calvary are better, but I like both McDonagh brothers. They bring fresh stories to film. Billboards just needed a better edit or rewrite.

The victim is given short shrift. Instead of "Sad Dad" or "Sad Cop" as Christa Faust calls these "dead girl avenger" stories, we get "Sad Mom" and that's not that much of an improvement. The story starts late. If you have five grand laying around, hire your own investigator or coroner instead of buying billboards. And how do three decrepit billboards in the middle of nowhere cost five grand to rent? There are some great performances in the movie. McDormand, Rockwell, Harrelson are all great. There are great scenes. Some criticized Rockwell's redemption. He tortured a black suspect, and he's in general an asshole. I liked the portrayal, they explain his behavior. His redemption begins with aciton and he is not forgiven. No one pats him on the back. His method of obtaining suspect DNA is rather melodramatic and out of character, though. We never hear from his victims.

We never really get a feel of why the investigation went nowhere. So, great scenes: Rockwell and his mom. McDormand, a few. Harrelson's letter to her. His letter to Rockwell is a bad one. I love Peter Dinklage but didn't see the point of making fun of his size and treating him like a joke. And McDormand's co-worker who does jail time for her cheerfully with the cop who abuses black people, and then disappears... how did that get past edits? That could have been a great scene, with her and Rockwell in the jail. Maybe that would have spurred his redemption, instead of catching fire. The worst scene was when the abusive husband grabs McDormand and the son robotically pulls a kitchen knife to protect his mom was comically bad. And I say this as someone who has literally pulled a knife on a drunken boyfriend as a child. Try making it part of someone's character instead of a plot point or a shortcut. How does McDormand go from putting up with that man's violence to firebombing a police station? Does not compute.

Anyhow, it had a lot of good going for it, but it wasn't great. By a director who has made great movies, like In Bruges. Which brings us to the other great director who went to bat with a script that needed rewrites, but won anyway.

Guillermo del Toro should've won a Oscar for Pan's Labyrinth. I can see why so many people love The Shape of Water, it's about lonely people, it pays reverence to old Hollywood style, it has a wonderful cast who play their undeveloped characters to the hilt. Really, did Octavia Spencer have to be a cleaning woman? Is that the only role we'll ever see her in?
Michael Shannon's character is ripped straight from his role in "Boardwalk Empire" without any subtlety, and his portrayal of Zod in Man of Steel was less a comic-book villain that this guy. His character supposedly went to the Amazon alone and brought back the fish god by himself, and just likes torturing him with a cattle prod and expecting him to learn English. I get the references. The scientists never notice that the fish man heals overnight, they just want him so the Russians can't get him, and these stories were lazy in the '80s.

Sally Hawkins and Richard Jenkins are wonderful lonely people and I can see why they want to protect the strange outsider. I want to protect him, too! But eating eggs isn't really enough. There are touching scenes later, but I must've missed the scene where she sees him and isn't terrified. The great scenes are the flooded apartment, and Jenkins had promise. I'm glad the pie guy didn't beat him up, but he's not the only gay man in a big city, he wouldn't be as lonely as we saw him. (Watch A Single Man or any number of movies...)  It's a movie I really wanted to like. The caper aspects were, but the odd Russian spy subplot could have been completely excised and the time used for character development, which was sorely needed. Instead we get Michael Shannon humping his wife and covering her mouth--an obvious hint that he is going to abuse our mute heroine--but that goes nowhere. And thankfully. He was evil enough without throwing in a rape scene. His abuse of the women at work was believable for the time.

Sally Hawkins is an incredible actor and she really shines in the movie, but she couldn't save it for me. It felt like the plot revolved around having the scene of them swimming in the flooded apartment and having sex, as if sex cured loneliness. And there were no stakes. What if the fishman's blood could cure cancer. and they had him hooked up to a torturous machine? Freeing him would be the ethical thing to do, but the "bad guys" wouldn't be quite so cartoonish. Not saying that would be an instant improvement, but it would give the villain a motivation beyond "I like my new Cadillac."

So yeah, I yucked on a lot of peoples' yum here. If you like the movie, I don't think you are wrong. I just wanted to say why it didn't work for me, and why Get Out did. Even Three Billboards, while it had holes, was never predictable. It was compelling. I knew what would happen in The Shape of Water, there were zero surprises. It was beautiful at times and joyful in others. I liked the very end, but didn't enjoy the ride we took to get there.

*Hell yes that was intentional

Talk is Cheap, But Inspiration Can Last a Lifetime

Unlike many of you, I went to bed at a decent time last night and did not watch the Academy Awards show. Like many of you, I'm keenly aware of the "drama" at the end. It's made my mind spin in some odd circles this morning, so bear with me here.

I'm not going to weigh in on whether it a was a legitimate mistake or a carefully crafted ploy to get people talking about the Oscars today. It's Hollywood. It's media types. Already I've seen the jokes on Twitter and Facebook about how this must make Steve Harvey feel better, and if you know what that reference is to then you know why some people may view last night's "mistake" as a publicity stunt.

"Blunders" enter the social media sphere and generate more awareness than the events themselves. It's the cheapest form of publicity that there is, but I can see some people thinking today that if they could orchestrate a mistake they could generate a lot of press for their work.

Is that ooops going to make me watch the Oscars next year? No. Look, if you watch the Oscars it's because you like watching celebrities get dressed up, talk politics, shed a tear or two and you want to see if the host will entertain or fall flat. There's nothing wrong with that. I'm sometimes interested in the winners of a specific category, or a few categories, and I can check online the next day to see who won. Watching four hours of an awards show last night allowed people who did watch to be in on the big talk of the day. "Did you see that?" "Did you see the look on so-and-so's face?"

As Emma Stone said, "We made history."

To be honest, I'm just glad to have something take over the front page of the news this morning that has nothing to do with politics. Okay, well, there may have been some political talk at the Oscars last night, but that's been overshadowed by the need to clarify that the winners list is the real winners list.

And that makes me a little sad about what happened. Not just because the legitimate winner of best picture may have been robbed of a little of its thunder, but because it underscores the lack of trust people have in information now, even when it's being reported by major news outlets.

And that does speak to something political.

I'm going to sidestep that a little bit. I studied journalism in college. I had the opportunity to hear renowned journalists speak. I also had the opportunity to have my feet held to the fire and learn to validate my sources and substantiate my information. I was a huge fan of Sunday Edition and a huge fan of Bob McAdorey's entertainment show on Global.




Right now, I can walk to the next room and put my hands on a Rawlins Cross CD and know that I saw that band live and have enjoyed their music because of Bob McAdorey. That isn't the only band I saw on his show, but it's just an example of an influence that has endured.

Gimmicks get you for a second. Influence can last a lifetime. I know that as authors, many of us struggle to determine how best to promote our work because we want it to be appreciated and enjoyed. There's nothing wrong with that, but it's far more important to focus on the quality of the work rather than promotional stunts. When you do, you'll build an audience that endures and grows through heartfelt recommendation and referral.

While I'm glad the dominant headlines this morning are about anything other than politics, I have to admit that even the 0.0000001% chance that the Oscar blunder may have been a marketing stunt combines with the recent war against the media to make me sad. We've all been reminded of a crucial truth. Just because you heard it on TV doesn't mean it's true. However, we need to verify truths to protect us from falsehoods, and we do that in our day to day lives with world events and policies and politics through the media. It is not up to anyone else to tell us who can and can't be trusted or how to verify a news source. It is up to us to make sure we never take our news from one source nationally or internationally, but that we verify and confirm and that we make our news sources earn our trust so that we can be confident of their authenticity.

We'd really like to think that when an announcer says, "And the winner is..." that they're going to give us the right information. We'd also really like to think that our journalists are giving us facts instead of falsehoods. When we have verified our sources they can influence us on a level that can last a lifetime.  I've made the mistake of seeing a report we thought was legit only to learn it isn't. Last night reminded me of that, and reminded me of the importance of valuing a trusted source of information.

Be diligent. In this era of 10 second attention spans and Twitter marketing go deeper than headlines. Go deeper than flash-in-the-pan writers who use a gimmick to get attention. Go deeper than cheap marketing stunts and superficial fluff. Wherever you invest your time and money, from movies to books to newspapers, make sure you're supporting quality. The best way to ensure more great movies get made and more great books get published is to ensure the ones that really are exceptional get the attention they deserve for the right reasons.

On that note, I leave you with a lasting influence for me that came from a journalist who didn't need a gimmick to get my attention.