When words are scarce...

How I survived grad school

2016-06-10T12:51:00.004-06:00

I haven't posted for a while because I got it in my head that I needed a master's degree. Five minutes later, I started the Master of English program, and have been going nonstop like Xena running the Gauntlet, while working a full-time job and momming a bunch of adult children.

After the myriad requests I received to write new blogs (a couple of people casually mentioning that they hadn't seen anything from me for a while) I decided to take the time to put something out there since now I have the time to put something out there.

About my life over the past two years

First:

It is important to note that the summer semesters cost me (aside from tuition) 30% of my sanity and two toes to frostbite (the latter, while only theoretical, and not actual toes, because the classrooms in the summer are unbelievably cold and like a fool, I was wearing summer-appropriate attire).

Second:

It became somewhat of a tradition for one or more students to follow me out of the classroom on the last day of class to tell me how much they hated me at the beginning of class, but that at some point during the semester realized I was an OK human being. Many of these people I call my friends now, not because I'm so desperate for friends that I'll snuggle up to the mean kids, but because a) these people turned out to be actually cool people, and because, b) hey ... I appreciate the honesty. There's not enough of that.

Third:

I moved more times than I care to admit. Apparently, I have problems committing to living space. I was renting a home when I started the program, because I still had several children living with me, and I decided that when they had all moved out and I had finished the master's program, I would move to Salt Lake City and buy a tiny house or condo that only took 30 minutes to clean to a shine.

Barely into my first semester, the owner came home from whatever he was doing overseas and didn't want to share his home with me and my children, so I moved to a lovely home in the historic district of my town (see photo below of lovely home).

Source: My camera

During my last semester, that owner suddenly, spastically decided that he didn't want to be a landlord anymore, and offered to sell the house to me, but I ultimately declined (based on the advice of an inspector), since, although it's a cool house, it's over 100 years old, and there were some structural issues I wasn't sure I wanted to deal with—also, he was hard-selling it like it was a used car—so I moved into a temporary place while I'm looking for a home to buy. All of my stuff is still in a storage shed because I still haven't found the home I want to live in forever or for the next five or so years.

Also, I realized how much I love the city I live in. Maybe I'm not so eager to leave it anymore.

Fourth:

Hey guys, my laptop died. The. Week. My. Thesis. Was. Due.

I want to make it clear that I recognize there are bigger problems in the world than not having a working laptop. I know with all my heart that my first-world problems are minuscule in comparison with larger, heart-breaking issues.

Source: gamingnexus.com/Images/News/grfoht33307/2.jpg

But the week my 55-page project was due, my laptop died without so much as a whimper, and I was sitting there on the floor, staring at a blank screen in the nest of blankets I'd been sleeping in for the past six weeks because my bed was in the back of a storage shed, AND I was out of wine. It seemed like a pretty big deal in the moment. At the same time, I was laying out and formatting Aelurus, the literary magazine for which I somehow ended up being managing editor. And it was tax season, so every client at my work wanted their tax documents from 7,000 different investment companies. So suddenly, everyone in the world (or so it seemed) was waiting for me to complete things I didn't have access to anymore, and I'd forgotten how to breathe. Between lunches at work and my daughter's 11-inch Asus, which sports a keyboard too small for my life-sized hands, I completed the project, finished laying out Aelurus, and remembered how to breathe. The night I turned my project in, I drank some (too much) celebratory wine and played Peggle (badly) with my two youngest children.

I received my degree (empty purple cover) at a hooding ceremony on a Wednesday night. My family and some close friends attended, including a professor who isn't in my department, but taught a couple of my graduate classes (and whom I have become good friends with over the last two years), and a professor who taught a few of my undergrad classes years and years ago, and has since retired. I felt honored to have these people (professors, family, and friends) take time out of their schedules to sit through this ceremony with me.

The highlights of my time in the programs were meeting those fellow students I hope will remain my friends for years to come, and meeting those amazing professors I also hope will remain my friends for years to come. Yes, I improved my writing skills and got a paper accepted to a conference in New York. But basically, I met cool people and wrote cool stuff, including:

an essay on how humans refused to stop exploring once they ran out of untamed terra firma, so they dug into the human mind, and ventured out to space
an essay on how strong women in pop culture tend to be highly sexualized instead of intellectualized
a series of feminist poems and essays with a backbone of modernized mythology

To sum up, it was a rough couple of years, but it was an amazing couple of years. I'd do it again with less relocating and more laptop.

What I'm doing next

Nothing different. I'll keep working the same job, continue to look for a house, and relish the time I have to hang out with my children and the friends who stuck with me through the two years during which I virtually disappeared.

For my friends still in the program—I love you, I miss you, I'll see you on the other side.

Time Machines: Part Two

2014-02-21T09:03:00.003-07:00

Last week I talked about some time machines from science fiction and what I would do if I had access to one. Today I'll discuss how likely they are to get me to my time-travelling goals. I've compiled a list based on my own limited knowledge of physics (two college courses and abuncha books). This list is not designed to incur the wrath of Stephen Hawking (who possibly reads my blog), Bill Nye the Science Guy, or Sheldon from The Big Bang Theory. However, if after reading this blog you disagree with me, you should feel free to tell me so in the comments section as long as you post as one of the aforementioned.

That being said, the list below is ranked on probability (as I understand it) in order from least to most likely:

6. The time machine from Napoleon Dynamite: I loved this time machine because it was ridiculously simple, and you can get it online (theoretically). However it didn't work—not even in the movie, so I'm rating it as the least likely time machine to work as intended and the most likely time machine to shock your junk in a non-sexy way.

Time Machine from Napoleon Dynamite
(photo credit: Emergiblog)

5. H.G. Wells' time machine: It's been a while since I read this book, but as I remember it, this machine was designed to arrive at the same point in space, regardless of the time. Perhaps H.G. forgot to take the movement of the planet into consideration and his unsuspecting time traveler should have materialized somewhere out in space, albeit in a different time, attempting to shout "Eureka" in a vacuum for 30-60 seconds until his fluids boiled. Although this would allow me to time travel, I don't believe I would have enough time to affect any significant change before I ceased to exist.

H.G. Well's Time Machine
(photo credit: IGN)

4.The flux capacitor: I have no evidence that this machine works, except that Doc Brown said it did, but I've provided a link to a website that explains it for those of you who are curious. Still, it seems like the classiest of all the time machines—as it is housed in a DeLorean.

The Flux Capacitor
(photo credit: Futurepedia)

3. John Titor's time machine: I've rated this one of the more likely to work, simply because I'd really like to believe that some guy traveled back in time and spent his time posting on message boards about the future and was obliging enough to include the schematics of this time machine. John Titor no longer posts online, either because he went back to the future, or he was really a pimply-faced kid who grew up and got tired of his wife yelling at him every time he tried to post. ("I'm not looking at porn, Angela. I'm preserving the world for our children. (Side note: I've decided that his wife's name is probably Angela.)) Sure, I know his posts didn't come true exactly the way he said they would, but that's because in telling us, he created a paradox, which a) altered the future or b) split us off into an alternate timeline. But then you knew that already, didn't you, John?

John Titor's Time Machine Schematics
(photo credit: Stranger Dimensions)

2. The Tardis: I had to put this second-to-last because it technically uses wormhole technology. Also...it's bigger on the inside, which allows its occupants to enjoy a nice swim as they're bopping about in time. It's the second most probable, because I think anything you chuck into a wormhole is going to get you where you need to go, but hey...why not do it in an 1963 police call box?

TARDIS Mk VII (Photo credit: Rooners Toy Photography)

1. Einstein-Rosen bridge: I rated this as the most probable, because I believe that wormholes exist already in outer space and possibly under sinks in Norway, I just haven't found one yet—although this looks legit.

Wormhole in California? I was too chicken to climb in.
(Photo credit: me)

I also believe we could make one if we have the right materials. I have been collecting and experimenting with what I feel are the appropriate materials including:

An acai berry
Adderall
Three physics books
Oxyclean
Nutella
The sequel to Star Wars I wrote when I was eight.

I just have to find a way to spin them fast enough to vaporize them into a homogeneous gaseous substance—I'm thinking about supercharging my dryer (on econo-mode of course). It just...something seems to be missing from the mix.

If only I could find a unicorn hair.

Blog off.

My favorite time machines and what I would do with them

2014-02-12T09:14:00.000-07:00

Cover via Amazon

I'm currently reading Michio Kaku's Physics of the Impossible, which discusses the plausibility of ideas proposed by science fiction writers. So far, I am enjoying it as much as Stephen Hawking's A Brief History of Time and Paul Davies' How to Build a Time Machine. So this and several future blog posts will be about how science fiction writers have written the future without realizing it.

Let's start with:

TIME MACHINES

Stephen Hawking said: "I have experimental evidence that time travel is not possible. I gave a party for time-travelers, but I didn't send out the invitations until after the party. I sat there a long time, but no one came."

Some physicists believe it's only ever possible to travel to the future, and the past is set in stone—unchangeable. If we tried to interfere, we would be as ineffective as sandals in a snowstorm. Others believe we could conceivably travel to the past, but the consequences of even the tiniest bit of interference could be catastrophic. I prefer to believe in the Back to the Future version of time travel, which would allow me to travel to the past and through a series of well-intentioned mistakes and a little bit of tomfoolery, make my life even awesomer than it already is. I'd like to believe that at some point in my existence I can travel to the past and erase such bad choices as:

Not going to college immediately after high school, thereby condemning myself to struggle through college in my 30s, while attempting to raise five children and navigate a divorce.
Wishing I spoke another language but not really doing anything about it.
Not investing ALL MY MONEY when I was younger.
Giving up practicing my piano skills because my younger sister was better at it.
Eighties hair.

I'm not obsessed with my past missteps, and wouldn't change it in a big way—no fiddling with the stock market, inventing the Internet first or handing a younger me the pages of The Harry Potter series and trying to convince her she wrote it. I think if I had a time machine, I would do something less world-changing and a little more self-serving, like:

Give 15-year-old me a flat iron with the explicit instruction not to show it to anyone ever (of course 15-year-old me was kind of a brat, so she would totally show all her friends anyway, thereby changing the course of history).
Tell 18-year-old me to stop goofing off. Living in a party house is cool for five minutes, but it will never help you get a better job.
Tell new-mom me that though it's possible something terrible might happen to my children, it's not okay for me to hover over them and make sure nobody ever says anything mean to them. Ever.

(Also, it's okay to let them make mistakes. Also, obsessing about possible fire escape plans for your entire family when you should be sleeping is unhealthy.)

Scientists posit that the tiniest change could have world-changing ramifications. If I choose not to make some of the mistakes I regret, though it may save me some embarrassment and suffering, it could have unintended side effects. Like, you know, maybe Bluetooth would have never been invented or the new Star Trek movies wouldn't have been made. Big stuff like that. So before I go back in time to change these events and uber-awesome my life, I have to step back and consider the potential consequences:

Sadly, straight hair wasn't cool in the 80s. Defying this trend and my hair's natural poofiness could have stunted my educational growth (as I would have been alienated from clubs and extracurricular activities) and would have made me look out of place in my legwarmers and oversized cut-up sweatshirt.
Going to college later in my life meant I took it much more seriously, and though it was rough, I loved everything I learned. Also, my children got to witness my struggles and triumphs, which would later help them through their own collegiate struggles and triumphs.
My children turned out okay, despite my hovering and obsessive midnight theoretical disaster planning. Better than okay. They're amazingly awesome, in fact.

Now on to the fun stuff. Let's look at some of my favorite time machines from history:

H.G. Wells' Time Machine
(photo credit: National Geographic)

Einstein-Rosen Bridge
(photo credit: Mr. Barlow's Blog)

The Tardis
(photo credit: Vibrant Oxymoron)

The Flux Capacitor
(photo credit: Jimsmash)

John Titor's Time Machine
(photo credit: LindaJM)

Napoleon Dynamite
(photo credit: Brian Terrill)

Next week: How time machines work

Blog off.

Watch, Read, Live, Love

2014-02-03T12:37:00.003-07:00

A Renaissance manuscript Latin translation of The Republic
(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I just finished reading Plato's The Republic. As I was finishing it, I happened to be sitting across from a kid on Frontrunner who was ALSO READING Plato's The Republic. This prompted him to start a conversation, in which he tried to either sympathize with women, or pick a fight with me. I couldn't tell. He said his favorite part of the book was where Plato advocated the education of women, but it was unfortunate that Plato also claimed they were inferior in every way. I just smiled and told him I was glad he was enjoying the book.

It's funny how strangers can bond over a book. There are forums online where strangers form relationships based on their mutual love of The Harry Potter series, LOTR, and The Twilight Series. Unfortunately, like clubs, political parties, sports teams and religions, it can also create a strong divide.

Some people get unbelievably pissed off when you don't like what they like or believe what they believe. This seems to be a case of intense egocentrism—my way of thinking is the only way of thinking. The obvious case is religion. We don't need to get into that, but child-rearing, book and movie preferences—that's what baffles me.

Years ago, my neighbor asked me if I spanked my children. When I told her that instead, I used time out and other less physical methods, she coldly told me that she spanked her children and that was the only way to effectively discipline them. We never really spoke after that and she stopped letting her children play with my children—like they had the no-spanking disease she was afraid her children would catch. She had asked me a question, not because she really wanted to know the answer, but because she wanted me to confirm that she had made the right parenting decision.

I've been blacklisted for not loving crude humor comedies like Dumb and Dumber and Anchorman. I've been snark-eyed for electing not to read Fifty Shades of Grey or for not loving (or even liking) the Twilight Series.

This morning, I sat across from a 20-something, who was wearing yellow skinny jeans and a scarf. He was alternating between reading a novella and sleeping. Behind him sat a woman, almost completely covered in black cloth, her eyes barely peeking through the material as they scanned her laptop screen. Across from her sat another 20-something wearing a collared shirt and khakis, watching Super Bowl commercials on his iPhone. Behind him, and across from me, sat a woman in her 40s, wearing a bright floral dress, engrossed in a romance novel. I formed the fourth corner of we-come-from-different-places square in my hybrid outfit of office clothes, comfy leggings and scuffed-up boots for the commute, carefully navigating a much-loved copy of Graham Swift's Waterland. We all read or watched what we were reading or watching and got off the train when we were at the appropriate stop. Nothing terrible happened.

The point is, that it doesn't make sense to feel anger towards someone who didn't like Cormac McCarthy's The Road or Suzanne Collins' The Hunger Games Series. Instead of immediately writing off people whose opinions and experiences differ from ours, it would make more sense to listen without judgment to their views. You can agree or not agree, but just maybe you'll expand your horizons a little—I don't mean change your mind even, just understand a different way of seeing the world.

Shōgun

Enter Shōgun by James Clavell—Englishman-meets-Japanese culture. The Englishman thinks the Japanese are barbarians for their tradition of seppuku and sexual diversity. The Japanese think the Englishman is a barbarian for his poor hygiene and food-preparation techniques. Ultimately (a thousand pages later) they come to a mutual understanding, and even respect for each other's culture. They come to understand that there is tradition and belief behind the "barbarism."

See what I did there? We're all just people who have been somewhere, trying to get somewhere with whatever tools and knowledge we have available.

Watch. Read. Live. Love.

Blog off.

How Erin Morgenstern broke my heart

2014-01-23T09:11:00.000-07:00

What books look
like to me now
(Photo credit:
Open Letters Monthly)

I am in a crisis. As mentioned in my last post, I recently read The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern and now I can't seem to read anything else. I tried reading Troilus and Cressida, but really struggled with it—not because it's not my kind of story. It's totally my kind of story. Before The Night Circus, I had just finished Electra, I've read Iphigenia, The Iliad, The Odyssey and The Aeneid—but because Troilus and Cressida didn't flow as well as The Night Circus. Did you hear that Shakespeare?

Well, Cynthia, I said to myself, stop crying about it and try reading something more contemporary—something maybe that flows better. So I tried reading The Conservation of Shadows by Yoon Ha Lee, which I bought because I read the Top 14 Books of 2013 upside down and thought it was #1. Hey, I never claimed to be a numbers wiz. Anyway, I'm only 5% of the way through the book and the author has already used "obdurate" twice. I can't. I just can't.

Here is my dilemma. I like to write science fiction, but I mostly can't stand reading it, because sci-fi writers tend to try and incorporate everything they ever learned about physics, chemistry, biology, geology or any other kind of -ology or -ics into their stories. Still, there are still some sci-fi authors I love.

Part of my problem is that my favorite sci-fi authors are no longer with us, confounding my dreams of having a neverending flow of interesting, funny or beautiful books to read.

Most other sci-fi books are filled with characters with unpronounceable names that have either excessive consonants or vowels. Sometimes it's just the noise you make in the back of your throat as you swallow. There's so much weirdness and alieninity (I made up a word 'cause I can), it's hard to follow the protagonist through their way-too-alien world, which is way too alien because authors want to do something completely different from anything that's ever been done before. Well, hey. Different has been done. Try not being lame. That's different.

Back to my initial rant. Erin Morgenstern's book is not sci-fi. Its fantasy. I don't normally read fantasy unless it's written by C.S. Lewis or J.R.R. Tolkein, because it tends to be even more overblown than sci-fi, but this one I loved. The biggest problem is that Erin Morgenstern has published exactly. One. Book. So I can't even read anything else of hers yet to help ease my pain.

Blog off.

Of queries and circuses

2014-01-16T12:24:00.002-07:00

The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern
(photo credit: Wikipedia)

Again with the synopsis. That dirty, dirty nightmare of a word. No one really gets excited when you say synopsis—not fiction writers, college students or, I'm guessing, agents and publishers, since they have to muddle through myriad half-hearted, but well-meaning attempts at boiling a 100,000-word manuscript down to a few pages.

But as annoying as they may be, synopses are important for a few reasons:

They help writers focus their plot lines.
They are an effective way for the agent/publisher to see if aforementioned writer knows how to tell a story without having to slosh through hundreds of pages to find out.
They are great practice for concise writing.

Every writer should want to write a synopsis for every manuscript. And they should do it before they send out their first query letter. Many writers get ahead of themselves and dash off a query letter while they're still editing. This is like auditioning for X Factor after your third voice lesson. If you want to be taken seriously, you won't waste your time and the agent's/editor's. This is how your query checklist should look.

Write manuscript--it seems obvious, but sometimes people try to skip over this step.
Edit manuscript at least twice--no matter how awesome you think it is on the first try.
Let a dozen beta readers read the manuscript and consider their suggestions/comments--you don't have to use all of them, but if five people are telling you the same thing, maybe you should listen.
Edit manuscript again--until everything flows.
Write query letter--one page to really sell your story.
Edit query letter at least twice--no matter how awesome you think it is on the first try.
Let at least one beta reader read the query letter and consider his/her suggestions/comments--are they dying to read your manuscript based on the query?
Edit query letter again--until everything flows.
Write synopsis--summarize each chapter and condense and hone.
Edit synopsis at least twice--no matter how awesome you think it is on the first try.
Let at least one beta reader read the synopsis and consider his/her suggestions/comments--but only choose the people you don't mind spoiling your story for. The synopsis should include the ending.
Edit synopsis again--until everything flows.
Research agent/publisher--what genres do they represent? What books/authors do they represent?
Make sure your manuscript fits agent/publisher criteria/book list--you're wasting your time and theirs if it doesn't.
Send query letter according to agent/publisher guidelines--they love it when you do this. It's like candy in a rainstorm.

That's right. There are (at least) 15 steps you should take before you send out a query letter. Most importantly, your manuscript should be finished, unless you are pitching a concept, and by the agent's/publisher's guidelines it is okay to do so.Only slightly less important, is the targeted query. It's important for the prospective agent/editor to know they are more than a whim or afterthought. You should know who they are, what kinds of books they represent and which books, specifically, they represent.

I was recently involved in the hiring process for a job that opened up in my company. I got cover letters that were obviously not intended for the job we were looking to fill, and one very unprofessional phone message, during which, the caller forgot a) who she was calling b) which job she was calling about. There was a long, awkward pause while she searched through a pile of papers for the information and ultimately, she named the wrong job. I immediately shredded her resume, and agents and editors will do the same if you send a half-assed query letter. It's about quality, not quantity. It's not how many agents/editors you can annoy, it's about finding the one who's a fit for you and your story.

That's my rant. In other exciting news, I finished reading The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern last night. It was one of the most beautifully-written books I've ever read. You should read it. Everyone should read it. When they make it into a movie, I'll watch the hell out of it, but it won't be as good as the book.

Blog off.

Of tomes and transportation

2014-01-08T08:26:00.000-07:00

Cover of Anna Karenina
(Barnes & Noble Classics)

I am long overdue for a new post, so here it is. I hope it was worth waiting for. The end of 2013 was busy for me, what with NaNoWriMo (success!), the holidays and my daughter coming home for a visit. That being said, I've discovered something amazing—something that has helped me reclaim precious hours every weekday.

Public. Transportation.

I know, I know. Some of you are shaking your heads and gagging a little. You think public transportation is for homeless people and people who have lost their driver licenses, but swallow your vomit and listen: I commute for an hour each week day to and from work. Normally, that consists of me stumbling (or sliding, depending on the weather) down my front steps, chucking my purse into my car, while balancing (sometimes failing to balance) a coffee mug and white-knuckling it to work, trying to find a good song on the radio, or belting out half-remembered lyrics to a karaoke CD. I have been known to listen to an audio book on the way, but they're either expensive, or narrated by a British octogenarian with an ultrasonic, crackly voice (e.g. The Aeneid from the public library).

Cover of The Book Thief

Enter the commuter train. It's far from perfect. Sometimes the temperature is low in the morning—like in the ones of degrees. Instead of getting in my car and cranking up the heater until I'm toasty, I make a quick drive to the station, tromp through the snow and ice and find a seat that doesn't smell like wet dog. Today a female commute was loudly upset that I sat in her usual seat. Also, it's not acceptable for me to sing at the top of my lungs. But the upside is that after that point, I get to read for AN HOUR. And then again on the trip home. That's two hours of reading a day, people—two hours I didn't get before. It's like a snow-soaked miracle.

Although I've had to deal with some awkward public transit moments—the guy across from me wet-coughing into my face or the lady next to me telling random fellow travelers a story for the fifth time in as many days—I get to read. In the six weeks that I've been taking the train, I've read six books, including:

Cover of Divergent
(Photo credit:.
Veronica Roth Books)

Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy
The Book Thief - Markus Zusak
Divergent - Veronica Roth
Gone Girl - Gillian Flynn
The Picture of Dorian Gray - Oscar Wilde
Electra - Sophocles

Some of you will understand how amazing this is—to find two extra hours a day to read. And I can read on almost anything. I have a Nook, which was a Christmas gifts from a friend a couple of years ago (thanks friend!) on which I have 60+ e-books—many of which were free, because they are the classics, including The Picture of Dorian Grey and Electra. When I forget to charge my Nook, I can use the Nook app on my phone to access said e-books. I also have a Kindle app on my phone, and Goodreads has some e-books available. I'm currently reading The Lost World by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle on Goodreads. When all else fails, I have real-life, hold-in-your-hand, turn-the-page-with-a-lick-and-a-swish books to read.

Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn
(Photo credit: bubbletea1)

When I get home, instead of feeling angry and defeated—hyper aware that the world is filled with bad people who text and apply makeup while driving or must get in front of you at all costs, I can experience other emotions. Sometimes the other riders get to experience them with me, especially when I'm reading the last few pages of The Book Thief. (Sorry, guy who tried not to notice the tears quivering off my chin.)

What does this have to do with writing? Everything. Reading has everything to do with writing. Reading has everything to do with everything. Reading gives you a better vocabulary, enhances critical thinking, reduces stress and improves memory, discipline and concentration. It also heightens your emotional intelligence. I've read so much lately, I'm an EQ superhero who knows what you're thinking right now. I don't even need to see your face. For more information on how reading can make you superhuman, see this article on The 26 Major Advantages to Reading More Books and Why 3 in 4 People Are Being Shut Out of Success and this article on What Reading Does for the Mind.

The Picture of Dorian Gray
(Photo credit:
Ben Templesmith)

That's right. So because I'm reading more, I'm inspired to write more. And because I'm writing more, I'm inspired (required) to edit more. And I have plenty to edit. Three NaNoWriMo manuscripts lay waiting for me to tackle them and two "finished" novels are waiting for me to fine-tune and query their word-filled pages.

Partly due to my aforementioned discovery, I expect this year to be filled with reading, writing, coffee and awesome.

Happy 2014 everyone.

Blog off.

Nano Update

2013-11-08T17:01:00.003-07:00

This is just a quick update to let you know where I am with NaNoWriMo. I'm 14,000+ words in so far and still moving along at a pace of about 2,000 words a day. If you want to creep on me, there is a NaNo counter on my blog now so you can see my progress as I update it.

I have enjoyed watching my protagonist grow as the story progresses. He's a confused, somewhat angry and sullen teenage boy. Writing the world through his eyes is a lot of fun. He's awkward and anti-social. And I like him.

To those of you who are also NaNoWriMoing, I wish you the best of luck!

Blog off!

All work and no play makes Cynthia a dull girl

2013-10-30T08:31:00.000-06:00

Dreamscape
(Source: Stupid Station)

I am a writer, which means I spend months putting words on paper so I can spend months editing and rearranging them so I can spend months submitting them and getting rejected. When I don't get rejected, I rejoice for years, just to balance everything out.

I first discovered that I have skewed perceptions of reality when I was eight. I had a really good idea for a book, but I didn't feel comfortable telling my siblings that it was my idea in case they thought it was weird, so I called it a "dream." When I was done with my amazing tale, they told me that something was probably wrong with me.

Side note: I believed the "dream" gig was such a good red herring that I tried it again the next year. Except this time, I peeked at my birthday gifts and told my sibling about this "dream" I had that coincided with every gift I was about to get. Said sibling ratted me out and I didn't get birthday gifts that year. Dream fail!

Shopping cart
(Source: Saving Sanity)

They were right. There's something wrong with me, but I prefer to say I'm "creative." Also, I can do shit in my writing that I would never be allowed to do in real life, which is really cool and therapeutic, and the reason I don't drink too much or hit people. But there are two sides to every coin. My writing affects my real life in unhealthy ways too.

When I grocery shop, I think about my totals in the terms of word count:

"That cost me almost a whole page."
"That wasn't much more than a paragraph."
"I can get two of these, they're only a clause apiece."

When I watch the news, I find myself thinking, "that would make a great story."

At least once a year, I sequester myself away from the world for a month to write 50,000 words. On the weekends, I might not even comb my hair.

When I read a really good book, instead of thinking "That was a really great book," I think, "Damn, I should have thought of that."

I have a crush on some of my characters. I'm not saying which ones.

I eavesdrop in public places to get character dialogue ideas.

I delight in being of part of, or seeing awkward situations, because I know I will eventually use them in a story.

Ink blot
(Source: zaynabdenaziari.com)

Most of all, writing something and putting it out there is baring your soul to the world. You're opening yourself up to criticism and psychological evaluation. That includes blogs. After reading two or more of a writer's works, I know who has daddy issues, a broken heart or a boring love life. I can also pretty much guess who felt nurtured as a child, who feels loved now and who has an unhealthy obsession with masturbation.

The Shining
(Source: Be the Ink)

That being said, I'm set to lock myself in my room at the end of each work day for a month in an attempt to pound out another 50,000 words that (should) make sense when read sequentially. I'm supposed to write 1,667 words a day, but generally I write 500-750 a day during the week and then 15,000 on the weekends. The last day I'll probably write 5,000 but look back and find the page covered with: "All work and no play makes Cynthia a dull girl" over and over again. Ooh. That could be a cool plot point.

Blog off.

Taking the NaNo Plunge

2013-10-23T14:34:00.000-06:00

Preservation Hall Bass Drum
(Photo credit: Infrogmation)

Well it's official. My next work will be from the first-person perspective of a teenage boy. And it won't be science fiction. I don't know how that happened, but it happened somewhere in New Orleans' French quarter last month—maybe after I stepped out of Preservation Hall in the rain, or perhaps somewhere near the little Tarot table on the street outside of
Café du Monde.

Wherever it happened, it happened. So starting on November 1st, I'll be 1,667-word-a-daying with a testosterone-dipped ballpoint pen for 2013's NaNoWriMo.

Astronaut , mission specialist of STS-121
and STS-124 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
IT COULD HAVE BEEN ME!

Can I write from a teenage boy's perspective, you ask? I'm a certified expert. Not only do I have three boys, but two girls who like muscle cars and arm wrestling.

Side note: When my oldest daughter was in the 3rd grade, she picked up a kid and threw him across the playground because he was picking on her younger sibling.

Side side note: My youngest daughter owns more knives than I have shoes and is pretty much a sharpshooter.

Me changing a tire outside
Hermosillo, Mexico
(Photo credit: My Facebook page)

I was also essentially a teenage boy until I was 16. I climbed trees, played basketball, wanted to be as astronaut and tried to weasel my way into Boy Scouts. Furthermore, I grew up with five brothers, which is how I know about defensive eating, offensive driving and sucker punches. I'm painfully familiar with practical jokes and ninja training. I still wear the emotional (and physical) scars.

Still not convinced? I'm not afraid of needles, spiders, sweat or changing a tire. I like action movies more than chick flicks and vodka more than fruity drinks.

Side note: I also think chicks in Jeeps are hot.

All of the above qualifies me as an honorary dude. So if you happen to see me next month and I'm wearing a baseball cap and/or scratching myself, remember, it's for The Art!

Blog off.

NaNoWriMo and life as it happens

2013-10-16T12:17:00.005-06:00

Well folks, NaNoWriMo is quickly approaching and I find myself looking for a new book-length project. I've already done the post-apocalyptic, the time travel, the mystery and the young adult adventure story. I've written in third person, first person, had a male protagonist and a protagonist named Bertha. I'm a crazy person. I've done it all.

Okay, so I haven't done it all, but I'm definitely looking for something different. I think it's tough to find your niche if you don't do a little niche-hopping every once in a while. You may think you've found it, but you could have just hunkered down into the nearest dirty corner and called it your own. In my quest for differentness I've been reading a lot and searching the InterWebs for inspiration. Sometimes I find inspiration in photos like these:

Where dreams go to die

Don't press it!!!

Sometimes I find it in places like these:
http://wa.emergent-publishing.com/2012/09/try-something-different/ http://mommyhasapottymouth.com/the-best-of-dog-shaming-part-17-18-pics-22490/.

Sometimes I just made stuff up off the top of my head, because...you know...creative.

I'm going to be honest with you. Most of my story ideas have come from something really insignificant--a look on someone's face, a weird dream sequence, an unexpected shadow or a conversation with a friend.

I think writing fiction is seven parts creativity, 67 parts persistence, 45 parts books you've read and 22 parts self-loathing. It looks something like this:

Awesome graph about writing

You're welcome. I made that myself. For you.

I've done NaNoWriMo for the last two years with surprising success, and once I accidentally did it on my own in April before I knew there was such a thing as NaNoWriMo. But it feels better to do with with the support of thousands of other crazies. That way, when people ask you why your hair isn't combed, or why you're shouting dialogue in your office, you can say something that sounds legit, like "I'm participating in NaNoWriMo," to which people normally respond, "Oh really? What is that?" But when you say, "I decided to write a novel in 30 days," people tend to respond with something like, "Why..." and back away slowly, avoiding sudden movement.

Right now I'm going to attempt an outline of a story that I think I might be interested in working on. If the outline makes me hate myself, I won't write it. It's a promise I made to myself in an attempt to shrink the self-loathing section of my clever pie chart. Write because you love it!

Is anyone else out there participating in NaNoWriMo this year? Feel free to join me on NaNoWriMo as a buddy if you are. It's free. Just create a profile, update your word count and start writing.

Blog off.

Vacation and inspiration

2013-10-03T12:01:00.000-06:00

Monkey love!

Last week was vacation time for Cynthia in the form of a Western Caribbean cruise with stops in Roatán, Belize and Cozumel. I did some things I never thought I would do, including snorkeling, staring down the maw of a hungry alligator, wearing various animals (the hungry alligator, no, but a tiny crocodile, yes), looking down from the top of Mayan ruins and eating escargot and frog legs. (I would post a picture of me snorkeling, but it would just be my butt and a snorkel sticking out of the ocean. No.)

Side note: Butt sticking out of the ocean results in an awkward sunburn....

Escargot—tastes like snail

I also got to start and finish Embassytown by China Miéville, which is an amazing book that throws you in the middle of a completely alien environment and lets you decode it a chapter at a time. The story deals largely with linguistics, of which I have a very basic understanding, and how it shapes our perceptions. Great read. I will definitely read another of his books.

Side note: I feel 12.2% smarter for having read it.

Random animal thrown
on my shoulder by that kid

Because I am, and always will be a writer at heart, every experience—every person I met is fodder for some story I will write, or enhancements for stories I've already written. This, combined with the insightful critiques of my recent League of Utah Writers contest entries, have given me a renewed excitement for my writing.

Side note: No matter how dedicated they are, writers often need to renew their excitement for writing in the form of praise, cash, vacations or manuscript requests from agents or publishers.

Bourbon Street, New Orleans

Below are the critiques I received on my winning submissions. Disclaimer: I omitted some of the specifics to save space and because it won't make sense if you haven't read the work that is being referenced. Also, I only want to post the stuff that makes me look awesome. End disclaimer.

I'm a Mayan princess

Firedamp
There is so much to love:

The candles seemed like a gross overcompensation—flaming phallic exposition; Kern had to feel like he bought a lemon—a lemon trying to soothe his empty ache with a lace tablecloth and Merlot from a box; I guess three years is the universal light show anniversary. The first chapter ended at a point that was both exciting and driving to make the reader turn the page and see what’s in chapter two.

Loved it and have very little in criticism except that I wish I had the whole book. Well done.

Laetoli, Tanzania

This poem imagines the life of a hominid ancestor of humans suggested by footprints captured in ash. The poem works best when it describes with colorful details the little moments of the woman's life which aren't known to science: things such as her coughing, her tears, the relationship

Brutus the Cajun alligator

she had with her children. The final two lines connect the poem hauntingly with the modern reader, describing this ancient ancestor as "just one more single mother/skirting the edge of disaster."

Equilibrium
This poem is well written and articulate. I chose it as the 2^nd place winner and could very easily have placed it as Number 1. You have shown us what happens without telling in the poem. You have given me a new insight on the 2^nd Rule of Thermodynamics. Thanks for the interesting lesson.

Of conferences, cousins and cold hotels

2013-09-19T12:00:00.000-06:00

A quick conference update. I did get handed some business cards, but didn't bring any to give in return, which feels a bit like showing up to a white-elephant gift exchange without bringing a gift. I went business card-less despite my last blog post. I thought about just randomly handing out whichever business cards I could fish out of my purse (yes, I'm also a photographer—yes, I write and make handcrafted leather goods), but I actually wanted them, so I just said thanks and stood there awkwardly, not returning the gesture. I'm a business card failure. Next year I'll have them. Next year for sure.

But seriously.

On Friday night, I won second place for "Equilibrium" in the light verse poetry category, and while I was gleefully uploading a picture of my certificate to Facebook, my name was called again. This time I won first place for "Laetoli, Tanzania" in the narrative lyrical poetry category and was asked to read my poem to my fellow conference-goers, but several things were going on at once:

I was so cold that my teeth were literally (note the proper use of literally) chattering
I was in the middle of uploading a picture to Facebook to brag about my second-place accomplishment
I was so shocked to hear my name called again that I was startled—like when you step off a curb in your dream and jerk yourself awake
I leaped out of my chair and power-walked to the podium to make up for the fact that I was Facebooking during the awards banquet and had just mentally stepped off a curb

Anyone who knows me, knows that fear of public speaking is not in my list of phobias—fear of tight places, yes. Fear of accidentally driving off a cliff, yes. Fear of water (don't judge me), yes. But by the time I got to the podium, I was more winded than I get after P90x's Plyometrics DVD. I should have taken a moment to compose myself, but I was on crazy-person I-just-won-first-place-in-front-of-my-son (yay) autopilot. I wheezed "Laetoli, Tanzania" out to the large group of people, hoping my emotional out-of-breathness enhanced the poem.

On Saturday, to top off an already great weekend, I won first place in the genre manuscript category for "Firedamp" but was not asked to read my first five chapters to the conference-goers, which sucked for me because I had brought an extra jacket (teeth weren't chattering) and was not uploading anything to anywhere (paying attention). Anyway, there were some potty words in my manuscript that some members of the conference would have found shocking.

Overall, the conference was great. I've been to so many, I can't say I learned new concepts, but I did come home energized and ready to edit my manuscripts for the umpteenth time. I also had this conversation with a woman in the bathroom (one of many bathroom conversations, by the way):

"I heard your name called last night. My mom's maiden name is Loveland."

"Oh cool. Where is she from?" (There are two sets of Lovelands and 99.37% of the time, I hear this from one of the other Lovelands.)

"She's from Wyoming."

"Oh!" I bellowed, my voice echoing around the acoustically-sound hotel bathroom. "My dad is Jack!"

"Oh!" she bellowed back, her voice joining mine in acoustic perfection. "We're cousins!"

And then a bathroom hug happened. I got to hang out with my cousin for the rest of the conference. Another pleasant surprise. (Disclaimer: aforementioned conversation is not an example of my writing skills.)

Conference win/win/win.

Side note: I won't be blogging next week since I'm heading off for vacation this afternoon armed with Embassytown by China Miéville. According to the friend who recommended and lent it to me, once I start reading I won't be able to put it down. I can't wait.

As requested, I'm posting Laetoli, Tanzania for your reading pleasure. Just imagine me reading it breathlessly at a podium. Not in a sexy way.

Laetoli, Tanzania

More than three-and-a-half million years ago
she left her footprints in the ash,
fossilized, forgotten, found and finally
studied with some kind of reliable science.

They think she bore the weight of a child on her hip—
while another…maybe two…trailed behind,
aping (but not apelike) her footfalls,
primitive and barely upright.

Kicking off from ancestors. Hobbling toward the future.

But they can’t calculate how much her shoulders stooped
as she stepped through the stifling heat,
or how hard her lungs spasmed—trying to cough out ash,
fleeing punctuated equilibrium.

And they haven’t yet hypothesized how many of her tears
joined the rain that made ash into mud—
the mud that preserved her heel-toe, heavy-hipped stride
as fodder for some article in Nature magazine.

After all the hours of observations—a plaster mold, a measurement—
and line after line of notes about half-life and bipedal locomotion,
she was just one more single mother

skirting the edge of disaster.

Blog off (not part of the poem).

Writing conferences and business cards

2013-09-11T11:59:00.000-06:00

I've been writing completely the wrong way.

Last year I went to the League of Utah Writers Conference in Park City and encountered something I was totally unprepared for. It wasn't harsh/helpful critique, swoon-worthy celebrity guests or a wealth of helpful information on writing/editing/publishing. I'm not saying those factors weren't present, but I was prepared for them. The surprise was the wealth of business cards that ended up in my pockets and in my purse. Everyone—and I mean everyone had one—except me.

This year's conference is coming up on Friday/Saturday and I plan to be prepared this time. I won't waste my time honing my latest manuscript. Instead, I plan to go armed with the bestest business card ever. I saw some pretty awesome business cards last year, so the stakes are high, but I was raised with five brothers and this makes me highly competitive. I also minored in professional and technical writing and I'm a freelance document designer. (Credentials proffered.) So in an effort to outdo the rest of the writing world (suck it, writing world!), I trolled the Internet for the coolest business cards ever. Below are some of the best business card offerings.

Cool die-cut face case with matching hair-colored card.

Pop-up figure card! Fun for everyone!

Impressive official document-style card--is there a bubble-wrap card?

Balloon card? Can I make animals with them?!

Super-friendly business cards!

Impressive retro envelope wax seal card.

Or good grammar or em-dashes....

Showcasing skills! Seems like a good idea.

Yes, my intention is to have an awesome business card in time for the conference. But in reality, I'll probably end up with something like this:

My name is Cynthia

A girl can only do so much....

Blog off.

Inspiration in the mountains or flies on my marshmallows

2013-09-03T12:39:00.002-06:00

Camping!

I went camping with my children this weekend, which I thought might provide me with some time to come up with a "novel idea" (har har) for the upcoming NaNoWriMo, while I communed with nature. But that's not what happened. Instead, we staked our claim on hornet/fly heaven and spent an entire day battling the flying freaks and juggling hot dogs, exploding s'mores and sriracha-flavored potato chips.

Before I continue, you should be aware that I am by no means a stranger to camping. I grew up camping, my children grew up camping and I'm not afraid of getting a little dirt under my fingernails. I can set up a tent, build a fire, and I can shoo a fly. But these guys were coming at us with the fury and persistence of a small, winged tornado. It's harder to shoo a tornado.

Side note: Flies eat poop. And then they land on your face.

Still, I thought, even if I didn't get a chance to write while I was camping, maybe I could take something write-worthy from the experience. Maybe I could write something about:

Buying four times the food but only half the water we actually needed

Meh, we can eat potato salad all week now
Nobody died

Purchasing a camp chair and leaving it at the check-out stand

Fly swarm of doom

Realizing the cooler worked just as well

The aforementioned flurry of flying things

Making the best of a bad situation
It's only terrible if you can't use it to your advantage somehow

The squirrel that screamed at me for five minutes in the morning as I was trying to find a snake-free place to pee

He/she was probably telling me to stay away from his/her babies, but I feel like there was a deeper level of communication there

In retrospect, a warning that hornets can sting you through a tent

The porcupine that waddled into our camp and stared us down with a "tha hell are you doing in hornet/fly heaven?" look on its face

Floating water bottle lantern

It only left after it felt we were sufficiently awed by its complete lack of fear

The bow hunters who clomped through our camp at 5 am

Whom I was convinced in my abruptly-awoken-in-a-strange-place delirium were gangsters intent on machine-gunning us through the tents in our sleep

Side note: I've been watching a lot of Breaking Bad lately

Whom I probably scared the hell out of as I leaped out of my tent and mean-mugged as they walked by

S'mores gone wrong

Side note: According to my children, I have the meanest mean-mug ever

The floating water bottle lantern my son crafted

Side note: Water refracts light better than Dr. Pepper

The way-too-puffy marshmallows that engulfed our s'mores before we could eat them, despite my newly-purchased s'mores cooker

Side note: :(

If you move the tent right before bed but forget to re-stake it down, it ends up rolling down the hill with people still inside it
Getting stung by a hornet through the rented tent as we were folding it up

Subsequently, spastically chucking the tent into the fire

Tent stake fail

Sub-subsequently, purchasing a tent with a big hole in it

Maybe there's something write-worthy there--maybe there isn't, but there are other important things I will take from the trip--like the disdain from daughter's boyfriend when I asked if he had a camp stove we could use to cook breakfast in the morning.

Side note: Dutch oven breakfast is delicious.

What I thought I looked like camping

What I really looked like camping

Blog off.

Setting sketch - rural

2013-08-19T17:00:00.000-06:00

If you've never been to a small—and I mean really small town—you can't fathom what life is like there. You may assume it's like city life, but smaller, with livestock and cowboy hats. But there's so much more to it than that.

See how you like it!

I mean, small-town folks are seriously quirky. They have a whole other set of rules, their own language, ethical codes and rights of passage. For instance—in some small towns it is not only completely appropriate, but also a sign of manhood, to castrate sheep with your teeth. When people do this in the city, we commit them to the psych ward, sign a petition to end sheep cruelty and wonder where the hell he got the poor thing.

Just try it. Punk.

And contrary to popular belief, cow-tipping isn't really a thing. Cows are solid four-footed steak-filled tanks. Unless you startle them so thoroughly that they are doing a jig while you are shoving them with the arm span and strength of The Mighty Hercules, they're not going anywhere. You'll probably sprain your wrists trying, and it will serve you right.

Don't look at me!

There is no such thing as "minding your own business" in a small town. Everybody knows everyone's everything. And I mean every dirty little detail—who cheated on whom, who wandered into which house drunk last night, who peed the bed at a sleepover in third grade. And you'll never really live it down. You can be 65 years old and everyone will still call you "pissy" but they won't really know why. In the city, this level of information is called stalking and can result in restraining orders.

Even small-town greetings are quite complicated. Small-town friendlies don't just wave hello. You don't want to make the embarrassing mistake of offering the wrong wordless greeting. You'll look like a schmuck. It goes like this:

Raise one finger lazily for an "I don't really know you that well, but let's not be rude" wave
Raise two fingers for a "Hey there, I remember you" wave

Howdy
Full-hand, fingers together and a grin for a "Yeah, we're buddies" wave
Full-on enthusiastic wavin' around your whole hand-wave when female bffs see each other. Guys don't wave like this. To anyone. Ever.
A hat tip is appropriate for someone you respect
The hat can come all the way off if:

You really, really respect them
She's really hot and you're not using it to cover up a bald spot

It's important to understand the players in a small town. Typically there's some quiet aloof guy everyone wonders about—does he have a criminal history? Did his wife die? Is he mentally ill? There's the lady who gets into everyone's business—who not only knows what everyone did, but she's pretty sure she knows why they did it. There's the hot, rebellious teenage girl, the goofy hick with big ears and a loyal dog in there somewhere. But don't be afraid to mix that shit up and throw your readers for a loop. What about a quiet woman and a gossipy man? What about goofy dog with one floppy ear and a hot nerd chick who is dying to be a physicist?

If you can't visit a small town, talk to someone from a small town, or watch Footloose, It's a Wonderful Life or The Village. Or you can search Google for "small town life" and then watch Footloose anyway for fun. (I mean the one from the 80s.) The world is full of people who want to give you information. Like me. I'm helpful—so helpful, in fact, I've included some other random bits of information below. Enjoy!

You know if you live in a small town if:

You don't need to use your blinker when you're driving because everyone knows where you're going.
If you dial a wrong number, you probably still chat for 20 minutes.
The post office doesn't require street addresses for incoming mail.
There's one convenience store and it may have a name, but everyone just calls it the owner's name.
You get super excited when someone new moves in because now there's someone you can legally date.
People randomly drive through town on their tractors or lawnmowers.

Blog off!

Setting sketch - urban

2013-08-13T17:23:00.000-06:00

You want to set your story in a big city, but you've never been there. Maybe you've never been to any big city ever. Maybe your idea of a big city is one with two grocery stores and a stoplight. How do you write it into your story? You can either throw in the towel and set all your stories in your home town, or you can get all research-y.

This is when I wish I had a giant travel budget. There's nothing like experiencing something firsthand to give your telling of it authenticity. But we can't all do that--even visiting a city for a weekend or a week doesn't give you a real idea about what it's like to live there. Therefore, some of us have to live vicariously through Google Maps and other travelers and residents of the chosen city. Someone you know personally is the best resource for those dirty little details, but in lieu of that, there are plenty of blogs, websites, videos and other tools available to get to know a big city. For example, this video, which is not only informative and visual, but sports a guy with an Irish accent for your viewing pleasure.

SushiSamba

That's great, you say. But where would I go to eat after I'd wandered the streets and taken in the sights? Well here you go, friend! Search for New York's best restaurants if you want your character to have a good experience, or New York's worst restaurants if you want it to go the other way. There are even links to make a reservation.You can check the menu out, see photos of the establishment and look at reviews. Maybe you'll find one tiny detail that adds more dimension to your story.

Just remember (as Collin tells us in the previous video) that there are five boroughs in New York. Your character will have a distinctly different experience in each of them.

Essentially, you can do the same sort of research for housing, local nightlife, transportation, etc.Get as specific as you can in minute details. But don't bog the reader down just to prove to them that you did your research.

Beer Garden: Greenwood Park

I wouldn't suggest writing a tourist's guide to New York this way, but you do have means at your disposal to add some dimension to your setting. Mention the lights, the bar stools, and maybe talk about the girl in the white tank top. She seems nice--a bit eager for her drink--but nice.

While the Internet is a valuable and accessible resource, it will also be great if you read books that are set in your city of choice. It's not okay to copy another writer's work, but you may be able to get a good idea of what other readers are interested in.

If you feel like research is not your thing and you decide to make up your own big city instead, that's fine. But you'll still have to research big cities in general, just so your readers are getting the big-city vibe. Don't be lazy about it. You'll turn off more readers than you bring in.

Blog off!

Related articles

Setting sketch - science fiction

2013-08-05T14:13:00.000-06:00

It seems like a science fiction setting would be easy to write because you pretty much just get to make a bunch of shit up—as a matter of fact, sci-fi and fantasy often get mushed together since they both incorporate a lot of made-up shitness. That's part of the charm. You get transported to a whole new world, a new way of seeing things, new people and new problems. The ultimate escape fiction.

But good science fiction is more difficult to create than you might think. Whereas fantasy seems to be backwards-looking, science fiction tends to be forward-looking, so it's a little harder to find reliable research material. To make it even more complicated, I prefer what is called hard sci-fi. This is science fiction that is backed up by fact and theory and focuses on technical detail. These books are usually written by people like Michael Crichton, Isaac Asimov or Arthur C. Clarke. Instead of writing that the sun exploded suddenly and without warning, a hard sci-fi story might discuss the details leading up to the explosion, the particles that were released—or better yet, created—during the explosion and the effect it might have on any landscape or living tissue that survived the initial blast. Some are so detail intensive that by the time you're done with the book, you feel like you've earned an honorary physics degree.

A sci-fi setting can be another planet, a dystopic or utopic Earth, a laboratory or a plain old regular city. But wherever you decide to set your story, it should be convincing.While I was researching A Scribble in the Margins, I read books like How to Build a Time Machine by Paul Davies and Breaking the Time Barrier by Jenny Randles, among others. I also read a book discussing the probability that the water in the oceans came from comets, but I don't remember the name of that book, or why I felt like it would be appropriate research for A Scribble, which had nothing to do with oceans whatsoever. I researched TBI and spinal cord injuries, spent a lot of time creeping on the rooftops of Los Angeles via Google Earth. I looked up restaurant menus, visited the physics department of one university and collaborated with the physics department head at another university. I taped forty colored note cards to my wall and created timelines and character sketches. I drew my main character's apartment so I could keep track of her as she tried to move her sister around. I even traveled to London to find another character's apartment—a character I later deleted. Now that's dedication. Okay, for really real, I was in London anyway, but walked around until I found a place that looked like where my character would live and then I took a picture of it like a creepy person. Later, in an interview with a guy from London, he told me that she would in no way live there so I moved her to a different neighborhood.

The point is that even though the story is set on Earth in contemporary times, I still had to do a lot of research to make it seem convincing. Nothing cheeses me off more than cop-out settings—stuff that doesn't really make sense, where it's obvious the author has only made a half-hearted effort. The only exception is C.S. Lewis' Space Trilogy, which is so much less popular than The Chronicles of Narnia, that you've probably never heard of it before. The books are Out of the Silent Planet, Perelandra and That Hideous Strength, set on Mars, Venus and Earth respectively. I'm a Lewis fan and I loved these books, but it's obvious he hadn't an inkling about space travel.

On the flip side, there are those authors who go into waaaaaay too much detail about their new and obviously much-loved worlds. Those types of books are annoying too, because unless the whole history of your planet is exactly relevant to what is happening in the story, then it's called backstory. It's to help guide your writing, and it doesn't need to be spelled out for us, thank you very much.

That being said, there are too many good sci-fi worlds to list as great examples, but I'll try anyway. Some of my favorite sci-fi books, movies and TV shows (in no particular order) are as follows:

Star Trek
Firefly/Serenity
Primer
Fringe
Dune
FlashForward
1984
Battlestar Galactica
12 Monkeys
Looper
The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy
Donnie Darko
Farscape
Planet of the Apes
The Andromeda Strain
Fahrenheit 451
Sliders
The Matrix
Contact
Quantum Leap
Dr. Who
Back to the Future
Bladerunner
E.T.
A Wrinkle in Time

Setting sketch - fantasy

2013-07-29T12:07:00.000-06:00

Middle Earth

Setting is as much a part of a story as each character is. Whereas a dynamic character can draw a reader in, a well-formed landscape can lend realism to an otherwise foreign story. I've never been much for fantasy, but I've read The Lord of the Rings and The Chronicles of Narnia—as a matter of fact, I took a Tolkien/Lewis college course, which allowed me to geek out completely and included Lewis' lesser-known Space Trilogy, which I'll discuss in another post. I've read a few other stories that were set in mystical places—some worked well and some seemed to be trying too hard to ride the coattails of Tolkien's success. I mean, who hasn't wanted to live in a cozy Hobbit-hole for a day?

Campbellian Monomyth:

Fantasy authors are usually intimately familiar with the Campbellian Monomyth (as illustrated) and implement the elements to varying degrees. They tend to fall back on the favorite mystical characters—elves, dwarves, trolls and dragons. And there's a map. There always seems to be a damn map.

Maps:

Most of us remember the map of Middle Earth created for Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings trilogy, The Hobbit and the scripture behind the story, The Silmarillian. And if you weren't a Tolkien nerdling before, you're almost certainly one after the release of the epic movies.

Narnia

Tolkien contemporary, C.S. Lewis created a map for The Chronicles of Narnia to help us bring all seven stories together. Following in the great cartographic tradition, Stephen R. Donaldson's Chronicles of Thomas Covenant is mapparific. Terry Prachett's Discworld has a map complete with a giant turtle,and Robert Jordan's Wheel of Time series is all mapped up. I know there are more great fantasy maps, but you can only fit so many in one blog. Never fear, there are tools that allow you to make your own fantasy world map if you so choose.

Decoding:

Discworld

But it takes more than the map to help readers and viewers decode a strange new place. It's about making that strange place seem familiar—homey even. Oftentimes, authors are so hell-bent on making their mythical place different from any other mythical place that's ever been invented since the dawn of time, that the names are unpronounceable and the characters are unbelievable. We just can't quite identify with Drychnark the half hellhound, half earthworm from Yrting as he swings through the canopy of his Ulrgark-ridden world searching for the golden naaayk, which will banish the unwanted Ulgark scourge and restore his ravaged home. To help us feel something for Drychnark, put him in a believable setting and give him and his surroundings pronounceable names

The Chronicles of Thomas Covenant

Rule #1:

The first and most important thing you need to keep in mind if you're creating a fantasy world is that you can't be lazy and create something believable and unique at the same time. Creating a world takes time, patience and intelligence. Just ask God. You have to do your research—read what's been written already and know your new world inside and out before you start. Inconsistency is annoying and it alienates readers and viewers. Oftentimes, writers choose a real place and plunk their fantasy world on top of it. This helps give them a frame of reference. Then they set about renaming things like a giant army conquering a small country. That's right. It makes you kind of a bastard.

Rule #2:

The second thing you need to keep in mind is that readers and viewers don't want you to barf this new place out at them all at once. They want to be introduced to it slowly—to allow them time to acclimate before you introduce another oddity. This is a lot like undressing. Throwing off your clothes in the middle of the street screaming "look at my body! It's glorious!" is called flashing, and even if your body is glorious, you can get arrested for that. Letting your clothes fall off piece by piece in an intimate setting is either called foreplay or stripping, but both are usually better received than flashing. Think of introducing your new world as a striptease. Strip away the layers slowly to build interest and stimulate readers and viewers. Are you with me?

Rule #3:

The Wheel of Time

The third thing you need to keep in mind is that if you decide to defy the laws of physics for any reason--although that propels us dangerously close to sci-fi--you need to be able to explain it. Again, laziness is no good here. If you take shortcuts, readers and viewers get annoyed and they won't connect with your story. Have explanations for things even if you don't spell them out in your story.

Map on:

Once your world is built, you can start spinning your story. And you can make a map to place in the front of the book if you feel so inclined.

Blog off.

Character sketch - the comic relief

2013-07-24T13:37:00.001-06:00

Spike

Laughter is as important for good health as exercise. And if you laugh hard enough, you can count it as an ab workout. After my divorce, I watched Whose Line is it Anyway as much as I could right before bed, which allowed me to guffaw instead of cry myself to sleep. I did this while I was on the phone with a friend who was watching with me. Her laughter and my laughter combined on a molecular level to help send me off the sleep in a state of comic euphoria. Oh the Wayne Brady-flavored dreams I had....

Fool

Even if you're not reading or watching a full-blown comedy, many stories offer a comic relief character to give readers or watchers a break from the building tension. Not every story has a comic relief character, but when it does, and when it's done well, the character can help move the story along, showcase and/or challenge the main character and sometimes they even steal the show. But good comic relief is hard to come by. My favorite comic relief characters in books, movies and TV shows are not the stumbling bumbling idiots who fart, fall down and/or hit people in the nuts.(Yes, I realize I've already used up my and/or quota for the week.) They are usually more clever than that. A shining example is Spike, from Buffy the Vampire Slayer, who starts out as the antagonist/comic relief:

Merry and Pippin

"I know I'm not the first choice for heroics, and Buffy's tried to kill me more than once. And I don't fancy a single one of you at all. But... Actually, all that sounds pretty convincing. I wonder if Asian House is open..."

—moved to being the love interest/comic relief—

"Buffy, Buffy, Buffy! Everywhere I turn, she's there. That nasty little face, that bouncing, shampoo-commercial hair."

Sir John Falstaff

—and then to being the sidekick/comic relief in Angel, even after he double-died—

"Say no more. Evil is still afoot. And I'm almost out of that nancy-boy hair-gel I like so much. Quickly, to the Angel-mobile, away!"

I chose to showcase Spike because he's got some of the best lines, but it's the delivery that really seals it. On the page, this delivery has to be illustrated by the character's mannerisms and the reactions of the characters around him or her. How do I know how to do that? Well, I watch clever TV shows and movies as research and I have real-life comic relief friends, so I just observe their delivery and my reactions to them. They not only see the humor in almost anything, but they help awaken my slumbering comedian and contribute to some of the most enjoyable ab workouts I've ever experienced.

Walter Bishop

Truly, it's hard to choose my favorites in this category, not because there aren't a lot of funny characters, because being funny doesn't necessarily make you comic relief. I've already deleted several names off my list for not falling into the category correctly, but I've wracked my brain for long enough. I'm sure I'm missing some great comic relief characters. Feel free to add any of your own suggestions.

Dr. Leonard "Bones" McCoy

Some of my favorite comic relief characters are:

Sir John Falstaff

“Hal, if I tell thee a lie, spit in my face, call me horse.”

Spike from Buffy/Angel

"Aren't you a throw-himself-to-the-lions sort of sap these days. Well, the lions are on to you, baby."

Flip in Bellwether by Connie Willis

"You don't know what swarb means? No hots. No cutes. Cyber-ugg. Swarb."

Walter Bishop from Fringe:

"The turbulence over Ohio was like being in the belly of a seizing whale. I screamed like a little girl."

Merry and Pippin from The Lord of the Rings

Merry: "Don't know why he's so upset. It was only a couple o' carrots."
Pippin: "And some cabbages. And those three bags of potatoes that we lifted last week. And - and then the mushrooms the week before!"
Merry: "Yes Pippin! My point is, he's clearly over reactin'!"
Pippin: "Run!"

Dr. Leonard "Bones" McCoy from Star Trek

"I've found that evil usually triumphs...unless good is very, very careful."

Keanu Reeves in most movies he's in, but not on purpose

"Whoa."

Character sketch - the hero

2013-07-16T10:59:00.003-06:00

Sam and Dean Winchester

If I write a blog post about heroines, I am morally obligated to follow up with a post about heroes. And there are some good ones out there.

What makes a good hero? He must be strong, but able to put his arms down (sorry Governator!). He must be complicated—maybe even a little tortured, but not unreachable. He must have good intentions that sometimes go awry. He must spend forever trying to make up for his mistakes and misdeeds. It doesn't hurt if he has awesome fighting skills and wit. Added bonuses: a cool car, stylish clothes and possibly a sidekick or two (see previous post on sidekicks).

Angel

When I was in college, I wrote an essay comparing heroes and heroines from literature. I specifically remember comparing Hercules and The Duchess of Malfi. It's a strange comparison, especially since the duchess never slew a lion or hydra or stole various livestock or fruit to appease the angry gods, so I won't get into it here. Suffice it to say, that mythological heroes were forced to perform daunting tasks. Epically daunting. I mean, I'm pretty brave, but someone asks me to bring them a three-headed hellhound and I'm out.

It wasn't just Hercules, who was forced to perform terrifying tasks. Theseus, Odysseus, Perseus, Jason and Orpheus all performed their tasks with bravado and style. Because these guys were so cool, contemporary heroes sometimes follow suit--performing seemingly impossible tasks to pay penance for some misdeed, for vengeance purposes or as a rescue. Action movies are fraught with stories about a thug, playboy or goof-off who has to rise above his ego to save the world, the town, the girl or some cute kid.

Maximus Decimus Meridius

Something you should know about me—
when it comes to movies, I’m a total dude. I like action, car chases and well-choreographed fight scenes. But intelligence and wit are super sexy. So is social consciousness. If a hero can pull all of these off simultaneously, well he has my heart. Also, I don't like being treated like I'm helpless. With that formula, I suppose the perfect way to meet a hero like that would go something like this:

(Scene: streetside cafe—lunchtime)

"Hello," he croons, setting down his copy of Plato's Republic. "I couldn't help but notice this guy seems to be bothering you."

Beowulf

"I can handle it," you hiss. "Move along."

"You appear to be favoring your arm when you're punching this guy. Can I help?"

"It's just because I sprained my shoulder being awesome last week. And this beefy bully is harassing my grandma."

Your hero takes a step back. "Would you hold this?" he asks, handing you his puppy, who nuzzles up under your chin in a totally non-annoying snuggle.

Robert McCall

"I don't need help," you mutter, but your arm is throbbing. You could use a rest.

You lean against his Aston Martin while he wails on the bully with what appears to be a mixture between jujitsu, street fighting and yoga.
When the bully is dispatched, your hero pulls out a chair for your grandma (if a chair isn't available, he'll fashion one out of what's left of the bully) and hands you a single rose that somehow wafted onto the sidewalk while he was fighting.

"Let me pay for your lunch," you say, exchanging the puppy for the rose. "It's the least I can do."

Mahatma Ghandi

"Absolutely not," he whispers, looking through you for a moment, his eyes unfocused. "It's true a significant amount of my income goes to charities for starving children, literacy and support groups for women, LGBT and other minorities, but I invest wisely and started saving while I was young, so I'm independently wealthy. (Translates to: I have a lot of money, but I am not completely spoiled, plus I'm really responsible.)

"Oh thank you," you say. "By the way, that's a really cool shirt."

"I apologize," he says, blushing. "But I seem to have gotten some bully blood on your grandma. Shall we take her home and then grab a drink?"

"That sounds wonderful," you say.

"I hope it's not too early for a nice white wine," he whispers.

Ralph Hinkley

"I'll just have a beer," you whisper back.

He smiles.

That being said, some of my favorite heroes are:

Angel from Angel (TV)—because he can mope and fight and looks equally sexy doing both
Sherlock Holmes from The Complete Sherlock Holmes—because he is so damn smart
Mahatma Ghandi from real freaking life—because he was from real freaking life
Ralph Hinkley from The Greatest American Hero (TV)—because he had no clue what he was doing, but he kept doing it
Samwise Gamgee from The Lord of the Rings—because he was full of undying loyalty and determination
Superman from movies, TV and comic books—because he doesn’t even belong here, but he keeps saving us anyway
Robert McCall from The Equalizer (TV)—supercool retired British spy who spends his time trying to help set the world right
Sir Gawain from Sir Gawain and the Green Knight—you're going to have to read it
Moses from The Ten Commandments—because he...you know...freed a whole bunch of people AND got the girl
Jarod from The Pretender (TV)—smart, cute and witty
Atticus Finch from To Kill a Mockingbird—because of this link
The Terminator from The Terminator—too beefy to put his arms down, but he's a soulless robot with a soul, so points there
Sam and Dean Winchester from Supernatural (TV)—let’s see, cute, funny, tough and they’ve literally been to hell and back
Maximus Decimus Meridius from The Gladiator—indomnitable spirit against insurmountable odds
Odysseus from The Odyssey—because he not only fought evil with brawn, but brains as well—also has been to hell and back
Beowulf from Beowulf—fights Grendel, Grendel's mama, various sea creatures and a dragon. Dude.
James Bond from the movies and books (but mostly Sean Connery and Daniel Craig)--because—accent and abs, respectively.

Blog off.

Also, watch this for fun: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sQgAgybqOpg

Character sketch - the heroine

2013-07-08T14:32:00.000-06:00

Buffy Summers

Two of my favorite heroines are Buffy and Xena, not only because they are badass babes, but because everything doesn't just come easy for them. Season after season, they endure all kinds of hardship and come out at the end kicking (and swearing)--the phoenix rising from her ashes. Maybe they are emotionally, mentally and physically scarred, but they keep on keeping on despite the fact that they are abandoned by friends and family and...you know...die. Sometimes twice. It takes some real grit to keep fighting evil after you're dead. Twice.

Xena Warrior Princess

I've always appreciated a strong female lead and was impressed that when Joss Whedon was asked: "So why do you write these strong female characters?" he responded with "Because you're still asking me that question." Yeah Joss. That's why I watch all your stuff. Also because it's awesome.
When I was little, I was completely enamored with Wonder Woman. Because first of all, she's an Amazon princess. Then you add the invisible jet, magic lasso of truth and bullet-repelling bracelets.... Plus, in comic books her hair is blue! What's not to love?
Today there are myriad strong female characters spouting lines like: "Touch me and that hand will never touch anything again," and "So are you going to kill me or are we just making small talk?" Any guy (or girl) who's been shot down by a woman, knows nothing stings quite as much as snarky words from a hot chick.

Wonder Woman

Yes, we've come a long way, but we're still in that awkward transitory stage where women can be badasses, but they're still required to wear impossibly revealing outfits and stilettos while doing it. One of my biggest beefs with Star Trek: Voyager, is that when they rescued 7 of 9, they took her out of her leather armor and combat boots and stuck her in a catsuit and stilettos. That doesn't even make sense. I know it appealed to the target audience (pimply males) but c'mon. Wedges at least. The point is, we still have a ways to go.

Inanna

Side note: one of my least favorite things anyone has ever said to me is, "Women are supposed to be soft."
Psh. What? "Supposed to be" by whose decree? Inanna the Sumerian Queen of Heaven wasn't soft. She's been around since 2,000 BCE. She is the goddess of love, fertility and lust, but not of marriage (burn!). She isn't just a love-them-and-leave-them type of goddess. She's a black widow. She's also the goddess of war (double burn!). Years later, legend has it that the badass Amazons hacked or burnt off their right breast so it didn't get in the way of their bow-pulling or javelin-throwing skills. They fought in the Trojan War and popped in and out of history in their badass fashion. See Herodotus' account of the Amazons settling with the Scythians:

Amazon Warrior

"The Amazons (also called oiropatas -- man-killers) were taken captive by the Greeks and put on board ship where they murdered the crew. However, the Amazons didn't know how to sail so they floundered until they landed by the cliffs of the Scythians. There they took horses and fought the people. When the Scythians figured out that the warriors they were fighting were women, they resolved to impregnate them and schemed accordingly. The Amazons didn't resist, but encouraged the process which was complicated by a language barrier. In time, the men wished the women to become their wives, but the Amazons, knowing that they couldn't live within the Scythian patriarchy insisted the men leave their native land. The men obliged and a new land was set up. These people became the SAUROMATAE who spoke a version of Scythian adapted by the Amazons."

- Herodotus Histories 4.110.1-117.1

They moved in, let the men make their babies for them and then kicked them out. Sometimes a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.

River Tam

Because I grew up reading about the Amazons, I have a hard time being impressed by any heroine who lapses into a coma when her boyfriend leaves, falls in love with the guy who beats her up or hides under laundry when things get rough. I'm trying to be subtle here, but you probably know which books I'm referring to.
I've compiled a list (in no particular order) of some badass heroines from movies, TV and books who make me want to put my stilettos on and kick a bad guy in the face. They're not perfect, but that's okay. That just makes me love them more.

Trinity

Ripley from Alien (has no need for an upper lip)
Thursday Next from The Eyre Affair (engages in clever wordplay while fighting crime)
Clarice Starling from The Silence of the Lambs (6th greatest protagonist according to this)
Medea from Medea (yeah, some of the stuff she did was a little messed up, but hey, she got to ride off in the Sun god's chariot!)
The Bride from Kill Bill (looks great in yellow)
Hester Prynne from The Scarlet Letter (strong and silent)
Sarah Connor from The Terminator (has great arms)
Dagny Taggart from Atlas Shrugged (has this site dedicated to reasons she is cool)
Charlene Elizabeth Baltimore from The Long Kiss Goodnight (just a lot of butt-kicking)

The Bride

Scout Finch from To Kill a Mockingbird (start young and stay strong)
Sarah from Labyrinth (I would have run screaming at the first "'ello".)
Hermione Granger from Harry Potter (smart and strong)
G.I. Jane from G.I. Jane (looks great bald)
The Duchess from The Duchess of Malfi (what's a girl got to do to get some peace?!)
Maggie Fitzgerald from Million Dollar Baby (serious badass)
Una from The Faerie Queen (pulls the Redcrosse Knight out of his funk)
Eowyn from the The Lord of the Rings (doesn't take no for an answer)
Lisbeth Salander from The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo (I don't want to &@$% with her. Do you?

Character sketch - the sidekick

2013-07-01T16:36:00.000-06:00

When I say "sidekick," you probably think of Robin or Kato or Tonto--some tights-wearing, mask-having comic relief character. But there are sidekicks throughout literature that help bring our favorite protagonists to life. I love writing sidekicks for my protagonists. I love them because they're awesome. Everyone should have at least one sidekick in real life, ultimately two (three's too many--let's not be greedy).

I think I love writing sidekicks so much because they were what I wished for most when I was growing up. Some little girls wanted a pony, but I--well let's be honest, I wanted a midnight black Arabian stallion--but I also wanted one of those best friends--the one you've known since kindergarten. Sure I had siblings, but siblings are terrible sidekicks for many reasons I won't go into in this blog post (nothing against sibilings...siblings are great at being siblings). I wanted someone to help me solve mysteries, to back me up when I was challenged and to set me back on track when I lost focus. I did go on an adventure with my best friend/potential sidekick in Texas, which involved me being thrown from a mighty stallion (falling off the back of a Shetland pony) and getting wounded in a mighty battle (landing in stinging nettle after falling off the back of aforementioned pony). We moved a lot, so as hard as I tried, I said goodbye to so many besties, at this point I can really only remember first names and hair color.

So I don't have a real-life sidekick. No one has ever helped me solve a twisting mystery, stand up to an oppressive giant, save the world or slapped me back into shape when I went off the radar because my role as slayer, leader of the rebellion or disavowed spy got to be too much. In movies, TV shows and books, good sidekicks often represent the protagonist's inner struggle--one may represent logic and another may represent emotion. Don't believe me?

Star Wars

Han Solo - emotion
Leia - reason

Harry Potter
Ron Weasley - emotion
Hermione Granger - reason

Star Trek

Bones - emotion

Spock - reason

Buffy the Vampire Slayer

Xander - emotion

Willow - reason

Disclaimer: The role of a sidekick goes deeper than that if you want to delve into it, and there are other roles that can be filled by a sidekick.

But sometimes there's only one sidekick. In these situations, the sidekick acts to balance out the protagonist's own fogged perceptions. They act as a sounding board or one of those really unflattering mirrors that shows how big your pores have gotten. Harsh reality. Sometimes they quietly offer options in the background and sometimes they offer a face-punch wake-up call.

Some examples of this balance in literature are:

Holmes and Watson
Gilgamesh and Enkidu
Robinson Crusoe and Friday
Don Quixote and Sancho Panza
Frodo and Samwise

Then again. Sometimes they're just a volleyball.

To read more on the role of sidekicks in literature, go here: https://sites.google.com/a/newmyths.com/nmwebsite/non_fiction/the-role-of-the-sidekick or here: http://www.writing-world.com/victoria/crafting06.shtml

Character sketch - awesomeness

2013-06-24T16:34:00.000-06:00

Awesomeness can be inherent or learned. It can be real or delusional (and delusional awesomeness is hilarious/annoying). The most awesome people I know are awesome because they're not trying to be. They're just:

really comfortable in their skin
really good at everything they do (and reasonably humble about it)
persistently amazing friends

If someone happens to be all three of these, well then he or she has been fortunate enough to reach Awesome Trifecta Status (or ATS)--the Bermuda's Triangle of Awesomeness, where anything lame magically turns to awesome at the touch of his or her hands. This is a great place to be. I've heard.

I thought about including a list of people I know who are awesome and the numbers of their corresponding awesome building blocks as mentioned above, but I think this will only:

alienate my friends who are not awesome and just now finding out (just kidding, ALL my friends are awesome!)
single out those of my friends who are awesome, but who have not yet attained ATS
boost the egos of my friends who have reached aforementioned status, thereby invalidating the parenthetical portion of #2 and creating an Awesome Paradox

Suffice it to say that I have been blessed with many awesome friends and continue to meet new awesomes as the world tumbles along. This planet is filled with them--sometimes cropping up where you least expect them--but you can find them if you are open to it. Often we get so caught up in our quest for internal awesomeness that we forget to embrace external awesomeness when we see it. Embracing it will only enhance our own, so grab it whenever you can--even if it's only for a moment.

That being said, the Awesome Trifecta is hard to find in real life. #1 is the kicker, usually. People tend to be weirdly insecure, and their insecurities keep themselves from reaching ATS. Because of this, I rarely write characters who are truly awesome. I tend to write those who get caught up in delusional awesomeness instead. True awesomeness is as elusive as true altruism, and therefore seems like fiction. And we all know that people don't like their fiction to seem like fiction.

Blog off.

Character sketch - creepiness

2013-06-17T16:49:00.000-06:00

Watch The Creep here

The creepiest character I've read to date is Humbert Humbert from Lolita. I was introduced to him via book on tape (read by Jeremy Irons aka Scar from The Lion King) in my car on the way to work and was seriously worried that if I got pulled over, I might go to jail on suspicion of severe creepiness just for listening to it.

All of my creepy characters are based off one person in my life. Without giving too much information, because he is a human being, this guy seemed to be the ultimate creep--in the way he always showed up when you didn't want him to (which was any time), in his appearance, in the way he talked and in the way he looked at you. You always had this sneaking suspicion that he had just done, or was about to do something weird, perverted and/or illegal. And he didn't know how to take "no" for an answer. He was always trying to hug or touch people, often getting yelled at or slapped in the process. If you kicked him out of your party, he'd linger outside the doorway, peeking in, trying to make conversation with whomever would respond. And if no one responded, he seemed okay with that. He always trying to be part of something, which made me wonder about how he'd gotten to that place--what was his home life was like. I started wondering how he'd been treated as a small child, or how much, if any, attention he got from his parents. If he even had parents. I wondered who loved him and why he was so passionate about the things he was passionate about. I wondered what his house looked like--his bedroom.

I know, right? Who's the creep now? (Me.) But thinking about these things has helped me understand people who appear to be creepy. They're just people who never learned how to process and deal with the world. Whether they're a shy creep (George McFly) or a loud creep (Biff Tannen), creeps don't just materialize out of thin air. They are born of creepiness, heir to creepiness and parent to creepiness. And just like my insane and douchey characters, they come from somewhere.

See Top Ten Creepy Characters from movies.