Bad Stories and Good Fans

The other night I watch a documentary about a movie I haven’t seen. Well, the title Best Worst Movie caught my attention. And I had, at least, heard of Troll 2.

Have you seen Troll 2? Even if you haven’t, watch the documentary.

At one point, people in the film talk about how something badly done is still great if done with passion, love. Though they also say that is true of a film, not of a book.

I’ve heard people say a movie is so bad it’s good.

Does anyone ever say that about a book?

Do you love a movie that is so bad it’s good? A book? Anything?

Another moment from the documentary I could discuss–if someone were hear to listen to me!–was George Hardy’s reaction to the horror film fans. (Hardy is a dentist who starred in Troll 2.) Now, I don’t like horror films, but I love those crazy fans. Sci-fi fans, horror fans, fans who wait in lines, fans who collect insane amounts of memorabilia. They have passion. I don’t like apathy, and these folks are not apathetic. Even if I don’t get what they love, at least they love.

Good for them.

The other day someone on facebook–good ol’ facebook–posted about how he thought people who write fanfic are wasting their time. Well, okay. That’s his opinion. But he said he spent a lot of time trying to convince the fanfic writers how wrong they were to write their fan stories.

Would you try to convince these people they’re wasting their time? Is that true? Have you ever written fan fiction?

If you had (have) a novel published, and someone out there loved your characters so much, that person wrote more stories about the world you created, how would you feel? (And I don’t mean people who steal your work and call it their own. Maybe you still call it stealing, but if they’re honest about–hey, this is fan fiction–would you be bothered or flattered?

I’d be flattered.

Coffee, Action Figures, and Love

Yes, my David Lynch coffee and my Captain Jack Harkness action figure

The other day one of my students (remember, my students are all adults) said (with affection) that I was a child inside. This was because I said I was going to the midnight release of the last Harry Potter film.

Since I don’t have any friends who will stay up that late, I’m going on my own–as I’ve done four other times. I went to the midnight release of the last book too.

A few weeks ago I agreed to pay extra money every month so that I could get Starz and see the new Torchwood on Starz.

Oh. And I keep an action figure (usually of Captain Jack Harkness) to take pictures of in different places when I’m out. And these pictures often involve cups of coffee. My son, so far, thinks this is a normal thing to do.

Sometimes I get flak acting this way at my age.

Isn’t Harry Potter for children?
You keep an action figure in your purse? Why? (And “why” is asked in a way that means the speaker isn’t interested in understanding the answer, they just want you to know they think you’re doing something you shouldn’t.)

I also spend an inordinate amount of time making stuff up and not cleaning the apartment.

But you’re not published?

Well, I want to create characters other people love as much as I love Captain Jack Harkness and Gwen Cooper, Hermione Granger and Harry Potter, Agent Dale Cooper and Sheriff Harry S. Truman. Or Harley Wescott and Lilith Bascombe in The Truth about Unicorns.

I love people who dress up as characters and wait in lines for days. People will say, “Don’t they have anything better to do?” To which I’m tempted ask, “And what better thing are you doing with your life exactly?” What is better if the alternative is staying cool and bored?

Of everything that might be wrong with my writing (odd sentence structure,let’s say, or incoherent plot perhaps), the one thing I really want are characters that stay with people. Characters you’d want to hear from again. Characters people would wait in line for or even want to carry around in a purse.

Not there yet.

What characters would you wait in line for a chance to meet again?

Go hula!

See things from another perspective. Like a hula hoop.

I’ve been reading a lot over at Tribal Writer. Justine says a lot of things I wish I’d said. Now I wish I could figure out how to say what I want to say.

She has a post about having True Fans. I don’t know how to get True Fans when I have trouble asking people to read what I write. I’m afraid people won’t read what I write and that they will read what I write.

Some days I think I don’t care.

But then I do.

As if panic and insecurity are mixed in with hormonal changes. Hmmm.

When I was a teenager I refused to wear makeup. Not because I thought wearing makeup was bad. I wanted to wear makeup and fuss with my hair and wear cool clothes. But I was convinced everyone would say, “Who do you think you are? You can’t do that!”

Anyway. The hula video is fun (I love Robert Krulwich) and Tribal Writer is worth reading.

And to those of you who keep reading what I write, thank you from every corner of my heart and soul.

Kill Them All!

I’ve just killed someone. Well, a fictional someone. A fictional character that I quite liked.

She was young. And sympathetic. I wanted her to live, but that seemed…so unlikely. I’ve killed characters before…this one just bothered me more than usual.

Maybe I’ve watched too much of Stranger than Fiction.

Am I killing a character because it makes sense or for shock value or to end the story when I can’t think of anything else?

How do you know?

How many characters have you killed? Do you ever bad about it?

Rejection Is Funny

BBC Channel 4 seems to take issue with sharing videos—-silly folks—-but whatev because you should see this clip on dealing with rejection. The bit about “sucking out your eyes” was particularly funny to me.

I’m getting ready to send more stories out into the world of literary journals. Either a story will be rejected (likely!) Or I’ll get more letters for my Halloween costume.

Yes, I’m already thinking Halloween. I’m going to clip rejection letters to my clothes. That’s right. I’m going to be Rejection for Halloween!

Keep your sense of humor, people. Life is absurd.

Maybe Epic

This may be meaningless to you, but did you know that today was the 34th birthday of Star Wars?

I was nine. I saw it in an old theater with balconies. I went with my dad, his second wife, and her youngest daughter. My father and I loved it. My step-sister thought it was okay–but the guys were cute. And my step-mother hated it.

But who cares about that?

And maybe you don’t like it.

But that film influenced thousands. What if you ever wrote something that had that kind of impact? It’s a bit harder to get that with print, but JK Rowling managed it. Can you aspire to a story on that scale or does it happen with the writer not even realizing what is coming next?

My stories are certainly not epic. No maybe about that. But I have finished story 25! Really it’s a story drop in the world’s narrative bucket (or maybe that should be ocean).

“Stay on target!”

The Time to Make up Your Mind about People Is Never

Have you heard this line: The time to make up your mind about people is never. I saw The Philadelphia Story in my early teens, and it is still a favorite.

This works in real life and in fiction. While there are certain groups that I’d like to label with some lovely satisfying insult–and sometimes do in spite of myself–this doesn’t do much to help understand anyone or the world. I want believable characters, don’t you? How do you do that if you can’t get in the head of your hero, your villain, and all the people in-between? Where’s the mystery and the joy of discovery?

Near the end to of the film–without spoiling it too much–the characters have something of a “did they/didn’t they” debate. They don’t spell out what they are talking about, but everyone knows what they mean. I love how they talk around things and still say so much.

They leave the idea to the imagination.

I wish I could write such dialog. If you don’t write it well, you’re being vague and cryptic. I’m an expert at vague and cryptic.

Dialog. Must sound real but not be real. Clever, but not too clever. Convey meaning, but not be info dump.

Of course with film, the right actors can save a lot of dialog–saying a ridiculous thing with the right tone and the right gesture. Words on the page must work for themselves.

Now, if I could get Hepburn, Stewart, and Grant to read for me…

The Unreal

Have you seen this documentary? Henry Darger wrote a novel more than 15,000 pages long. He created hundreds of paintings and drawings. No one knew until he was dead.

He wasn’t a man to go on tour or network.

He created his own world and didn’t have to care about book signings, fan pages, reviews, or publishers.

Would you write if every word stayed in the room with you until you died and left them behind?

The Power of Words and the Paper They’re Printed on

Write the right thing. I found this video over at angelinelajeunesse. I don’t know her blog well, yet, but I came across her on a facebook group–writers unboxed. Come join me over there sometime.

Anyway, how you word things obviously matters or you wouldn’t write. And the words we choose shape our perceptions. If the written word didn’t matter, why would we fight so over holy books? And how many writers would want their words changed by an editor?

I’ve been sharing a lot of words about the whole self-publish or traditionally published debate. I rule out nothing for my future. Ruling out anything for the future would be foolish since we have no idea what the future will look like.

This discussion has brought my debating side. There are people I can never debate with. What is it about some people you can debate with and still be friends, and other people any disagreement is like a death? I don’t know. But this publishing debate has given me lots to think about.

I’m a romantic when it comes to books.

My grandmother lived across the street from a bowling alley. If you walked through the bowling alley’s parking lot to the main boulevard and dashed across, you would be at a strip mall complete with Publix, Duff’s Smorgasboard, and Daper Dan’s ice cream parlor. The shopping center also had a gift shop. The gift shop sold the usual trinkets, candles, wind chimes, and cards. They also had a corner of books.

I would get permission to walk over by myself and then sit on the floor in front of section of books and spend an unreasonable amount of time deciding which book to spend my few dollars on. I read the backs of many paperbacks, pick my favorites, and set them down on the floor. With books in a row on the floor, I sat cross-legged and stared at the covers. I loved this cover and that cover. Eventually, I had both books, and sometimes I would stop reading just to look at the cover.

And in 2000 my husband and I were in New Orleans. Across from our hotel was a used bookshop. It was dim, dusty, tiny bookshop. We spent an afternoon scanning the shelves. I was crawling on my knees, investigating piles and boxes of books. Going back to where I started to look over the shelves again in case I missed something. I’d pull books from underneath others to see what the book really was. After much inner turmoil I picked Salman Rushdie’s book on The Wizard of Oz. The man sitting on a stool at the counter said, “You love books.”

“Oh, I do.”

“I could tell by the way you kept looking over each shelf, really looking. You’ll love your books,” he said.

And then there came the day I found a book I’d been searching for for years. I found it in a used bookshop in Chapel Hill, and when I saw it, I squealed. I ran to my friend, jumped up and down and caused quite a few heads to turn. “OH MY GOD!! I LOVE THIS BOOK!!” After embarrassing my friend, I leapt to the counter and was still jumping up and down when I paid for it. I hugged the book to my chest. And I discovered it was signed.

If my apartment caught on fire right now and I could save only one book, this would be the one.

Physical books are artifacts. What will we leave behind in this digital age? What treasures will we find scrolling down a screen? I guess every generation has to moan the passing of what they know. My son has many books, but surely he will grow up more comfortable with e-books, but I don’t think I’m ever going to hug a Kindle.

But who knows?

When the world is digital, what will you miss?

Something to think about…

but yet something that seems impossible. Like winning the lottery or finding the magic wardrobe, it happens to other people.

And her follow-up blog post is a must read: My Blood Approves.