Mr. Putin's War

Think of what a great world this would be if Putin had decided to solidify democracy in Russia rather than to go all mini-Mussolini on us.
It's been over a century since the Bolshevik Revolution, and Russia is still making the world miserable for the rest of us.
Thankfully, the Ukrainians are showing Putin and his cronies that Russia can't bully them without great cost. The rest of the world has united against Russian imperialism in a way never seen before.
Sen. Lindsay Graham was rightly chastised for calling out loud for Putin's assassination -- but only because he said it out loud.
It brings to mind the lament of King Henry II of England about Thomas à Becket -- "Will no one rid me of this troublesome priest?"
Only we -- the world -- might now say, "Will no one rid of us this troublesome lunatic?"

"I, Tonya" ★★★★½

This movie is a scream, a hoot and a half. The only reason I'm not giving it five stars is because the subject matter is not high and mighty (Gandhi, Lawrence of Arabia) but the tawdry, trailer-trash life of Tonya Harding. Allison Janney transforms herself into the mom from hell while Margot Robbie has improbably dialed down her looks while convincingly conveying Harding's conflicted, rough-and-tumble self. (For the record, I always liked Harding's skating almost as much as her I'm-no-princess persona.) The screenplay is brilliant and the direction delivers belly laughs and gut punches one after another. Seriously, see this movie.

"Lady Bird" ★★★★

Saorise Ronan is Christine, aka Lady Bird, a rebellious teen with a dad who's down on his luck, a mom who's tough on her, and ambitions that outstrip her academic record. Ronan and Laurie Metcalf (mom) deservedly earned Oscar nominations for their performances. There's nothing here to blow you away. You've seen variants of this teen-girl-comes-of-age drama before -- indeed, some of us have lived it! -- but Lady Bird does it more nicely than most. Extra points for setting the movie in Sacramento, a novelty.

"Dunkirk" ★★★★

There's much to like in this film about the desperate rescue of trapped British troops from the French beach town in 1940. That said, while very good, I'm not sure it's the epic, unqualified success that so many reviewers seemed to think at the time of its release. What sets it apart is its focus not on the larger picture or strategy -- hardly mentioned at all -- but on the people caught up in the evacuation. It's told in a clever and almost elegiac way, intertwining three stories -- that of a British soldier desperate to get home, two Spitfire pilots covering the evacuation, and a civilian yachtsman helping to ferry troops off the beaches. Events in the three stories unfold in different time frames, the stories flit back and forth before coming together. It conveys the horror, confusion and human drama of combat very well.

Sam Elliott's Oscar Role

"The Hero" ★★★★½

I'm a huge Sam Elliott fan, so it stands to reason I would like this film about an aging actor facing his mortality. And Elliott delivers a strong performance, surely worthy of an Oscar if there's any justice. Laura Prepon of "That 70s Show" fame puts in a creditable account as Elliott's unlikely love interest. This is not the movie for you if you're looking for thrill and chills -- it's a movie for those who like quiet, understated stories about people. If you like Francois Truffaut films from the 60s, this ought to appeal. I liked it all the way to the end, which came on rather abruptly and left me feeling I hadn't arrived at my destination. Still worth the journey, but when it's over you may feel like you still have to walk the last few miles to get where you're going. 

Mr. Trump's Wild Ride as Chronicled by Katy Tur

Unbelievable" by Katy Tur ★★★★★

NBC correspondent Katy Tur's memoir of the insane 2016 Trump campaign, which she followed from day one, is alternately amusing and maddening -- it's about Trump, after all -- but always compelling. She chronicles the wild trip that was the bumpy, chaotic Trump campaign tour, vividly recreating the whole, yes, unbelievable phenomenon. Along the way, we're reminded again and again just how unperturbed Trump's acolytes were by the serial lies and misdemeanors of their candidate, how Trump withstood with nary a scratch innumerable assaults and exposes that would have killed the campaign of any normal politician. Don't look for deep analysis here; that's not Tur's purpose. Just go along for the scariest ride this side of the Kingda Ka roller coaster at Six Flags.

Script Revolution

I posted "Double Trouble" to the Script Revolution website today. Essentially, it does what sites like The Black List do -- allow screenwriters to post their material, allow agents and producers to peruse them -- but for free.

As horrid as the process of selling a script is for those not already plugged into the Hollywood scene, I refuse to pay someone as part of flogging my screenplay. On principle, and because you never know what's a scam and what isn't.

On the other hand, a place that charges nothing should be OK, right?

But...I had to wonder -- cynic that I am -- how are the folks behind Script Revolution paying for the site? What's their angle? My suspicions about any website are legion. There's always a way to make money from getting people to sign on for free. Selling email addresses, collecting data. And so on.

However, as best as I could tell from the internet sleuthing I did, nothing suggests Script Revolution is anything other than what it claims to be.

It's hard to know how useful the site is -- but given how hard it is to get someone to even look at a movie script, well . . . what the hell, right?

As it stands now, after about 350 queries, I managed to get 4-5 producers (can't remember, exactly) to request the whole script.

It's a crazy system.

Now, Screenwriting

I recently completed my first screenplay, "Double Trouble." It's a crime drama, and you can read the first scene by clicking on the third page of this blog. I envision it as a made-for-TV movie myself -- or did, as I was writing it -- but will defer to the expertise of others.

Of course, as any neophyte screenwriter knows, getting your screenplay in front of an agent or producer, much less selling it, is a near-impossible task. But we shall not be defeated! If I learn any tips along the way, I'll pass them on.

One thing I won't do is pay some site to "host" my script so eager Hollywood eyeballs can take a gander. Perhaps those eyeballs are numerous, and perhaps they're movers and shakers in the film industry, but I doubt it.

Nor will I enter the script in any contest. It's just not the kind of screenplay to win any awards. (The one I'm now getting started on ... perhaps.) It's a fairly straightforward crime drama with one exception -- a unique and original premise. (Really.)

Classic Novels I've Never Finished

This article on Moby Dick from the New Yorker got me thinking of classic novels I've never been able to finish, Moby Dick being perhaps first and foremost among them. I found it impossibly dense and turgid, the prose style convoluted and confusing, and it just failed to keep my interest.

War and Peace is another classic that's defeated me. I've started it at least four times and never gotten past page 20. That's probably as far as I got in Pride and Prejudice, too. I forced myself to read Crime and Punishment all the way through, but I'll be damned if I remember much about it or got anything out of it. The only way I got through Thomas Mann's Buddenbrooks was by skimming it and concentrating almost exclusively on the dialogue.

There's a certain pattern here -- I obviously have a problem with the 19th century (I count Buddenbrooks there, even though it was published in 1901), and it doesn't help if a book is long. (On the other hand, I love Dickens and Wuthering Heights -- it really is "the strangest love story every told" -- and I did read every word of Finnegan's Wake, though I now consider that to have been a colossal waste of time.)

I can think of other classics that failed to move me: The Aeneid, The Great Gatsby (which I have read three times, trying to get what everyone else gets about it), Henderson the Rain King (long!), A Passage to India. There doesn't seem to be a pattern after all.

It used to bother me that I couldn't get interested in these books. After all, they're classics, great works of literature. If I didn't get them, what did that say about me and my lack of intellectual heft?

I don't worry about it anymore. The infinite combining and recombining of DNA within our species results in an infinite number of individuals, each with sensibilities and tastes that set him or her apart. The womb is a sort of aesthetic Thunderdome -- no two individuals emerge from it the same.

What famous novel do you find insufferable?

Author Kathleen Hale Shoots Herself in the Foot Multiple Times Over Goodreads Reviews

Author Kathleen Hale, whose first novel was recently published, has confessed to stalking a book blogger who gave her a lousy review on Goodreads, earning her a bunch of 1-star ratings and generally pissing off book bloggers here, there and everywhere.

I can understand the impulse to strike back at the anonymous person who trashes your book. After all, it's like someone calling your baby ugly. I've been trying for a long time to get Barnes & Noble to remove one review of Tainted Souls, not because it's 1-star, but because it's homophobic. (Near as I can tell, the reviewer took umbrage at what he perceived to be anti-George W. Bush sentiment and hit back by metaphorically calling me a fag. Sigh.)

But, as Hale was warned by any number of people, doing so is a losing proposition. And Hale took her unhappiness to a new and obsessive level, tracking down the book blogger in question, calling her at work, and even showing up on her doorstep. Leaving aside the stalking part, what did she hope to accomplish? Did she really think she was going to strike a blow for liberty and justice?

Now some folks who haven't even read her book are giving it fresh 1-star ratings to show their displeasure at her actions. I think that's wrong, but predictable.

On the other hand, as the old saying goes, there's no such thing as bad publicity, so maybe Hale's misadventure in obsession will pay off in the long run. Should be interesting to see.

Writing Every Damn Day Iz Hard

Jaime Todd Rubin tells the story in today's Daily Beast of how he cranked out over 400,000 words in a year by carving out time for writing every day, even if only for 20 minutes, learning also to tune out background noise like TV, kids, bats in the attic, small-arms fire, tsunami warnings, etc.  He also tracked himself on Google Docs, apparently allowing himself to create all sorts of statistical charts about his writing.

If you're into that sort of thing.

I have never been the sit-down-and-do-a-little-every-day sort of writer. I'm more like a volcano that bubbles beneath the surface, before it all comes spewing out in one long, semi-continuous flow. I write 10 or 12 hours a day until it's done.

I would like to be the kind of writer who sits down and does an hour or two every evening, Or who putters away at it mid-morning, preferably with a banana muffin on hand. I'd love to be able to go to Starbucks in the afternoon like clockwork every day, flip open the laptop and write for an hour, no matter what.

I'm so busy these days with other things that the 10- or 12-hour day of writing just isn't going to work for me.

So I will have to give that 1- or 2-hour-a-day session plan another try, though there's something about my personality that resists it.

What about you? Are you a compulsive word-vomiter like me or the type that can make writing work in small increments? What are your secrets for keeping the creative juices flowing when you only turn them on for an hour or two a day?

Finnegans Wake - Work of Genius or Gigantic Waste of Time?

I used to think Finnegans Wake was a work of genius. (I even took a whole class on the book in college. I read the whole thing, believe it or not.)

Now I sort of think it's a wasted effort; if you spend 17 years writing a book that basically is impossible to understand, what's the point? Except to show how many obscure allusions you can throw in and generally what a smartypants you are? Does art have any worth if no one can appreciate it?

Anyway, the Chinese will apparently soon be able to decide for themselves.

Your Characters -- Thinly Disguised People From Your Past?

An article in the New York Times today touches on whether it's OK or not to draw from real-life relationships for literary material.

Is this even in question? Every writer draws from real-life experience to write fiction, whether consciously or not.

The real question is, how much do you take from real life and how closely do your fictional characters resemble their real-life counterparts. And what are your motives in portraying them? Some people you meet in life are so interesting it would be a crime not to portray them in fiction if you have the chance.

The writers in the Times article say, of course, draw from real life, but be careful and avoid the kids. I think of that admonition when considering Joseph Heller's Something Happened, which, having read his daughter's memoir, certainly seems to mirror the annoyance he felt in middle age having to deal with his (real) children's problems. Philip Roth's I Married a Communist is supposedly a "a barely disguised riposte at Roth's ex-wife, Claire Bloom" for portraying him unsympathetically in her memoir.

I suppose it matters most if the fictional characterization is unflattering or one that makes fun of a real-life person.

What's your opinion? Where do you draw the line on how closely your fictional characters resemble their real-world doppelgangers?

Real Life Mystery of My African Ancestors

23andMe, which I had analyze my DNA not so long ago, recently re-classified a tiny fraction of it from "undetermined" to "of West African origin." (99.6 percent was termed "Northern European," no surprise.) Specifically, "less than or equal to 0.01 percent" of my DNA is traceable to West Africa.

You have to go back at least 14 generations to get that kind of percentage -- say to the early to mid-1600s. Fourteen generations means more than 16,000 ancestors. (Probably less in actuality, since for most of history folks never ventured farther from their villages than 20 miles and thus inevitably married distant cousins. Certainly less in my case, since -- scandal in the family -- two of my great-great-grandparents were first cousins, it being rather lonely out on the Indiana prairie in the mid-1800s.)

How cool is this? What a great mystery. Who was this African? A slave girl at a Virginia plantation? A freebooter on some Caribbean pirate ship? The son of a West African chief sent to London to get an education? (I just read the other day that this was fairly common.) I'd love to solve the mystery, though I'm sure it's next to impossible. One just has to let the imagination roam.

I've learned quite a bit about some of my ancestors in the last decade, thanks to the Internet and Ancestry.com. I found out about the life of my mother's father, though he had disappeared from view since the 1930s. Recently a distant cousin in Norway got in touch and provided even more info on my father's side of the family. But this snippet is something I would never have known without the DNA analysis.

In my more pretentious moments, I like to point out that we are all Africans, since all of us whose ancestors later called Europe or Asia home are descended from the same small group of individuals who left Africa some 50,000 or 60,000 years ago. Finding out that I have a more recent connection with sub-Saharan Africa just makes the point more solidly that humanity is just one large, genetically mashed-up extended family.

The Suckiness of Sci-fi

My daughter has me reading Ender's Game. So far, I am unmoved and mostly uninterested, and have actually finished three other books as I ponderously make my way through this tale of a kid trained as a super-warrior against "buggers." (Given the author's apparent homophobia, one wonders if the aliens are all supposed to be evil Sodomites out to recruit the young boys in training to their nefarious "lifestyle"; I haven't gotten far enough to know why they're called "buggers." Maybe they're insects? What is this, a reprise of Starship Troopers?)

Anyway, to the point. I rather like sci-fi as a genre of speculation. I even watched "Star Trek: Deep Space Nine" for a season or two. Some of my favorite movies are sci-fi -- Alien, Terminator, Road Warrior. I even enjoyed the campiness of Starship Troopers. But I've never read a sci-fi novel that impressed me as a literary effort, or even entertained me much -- unless you count Kurt Vonnegut's Slaughterhouse-Five as sci-fi.

I know, I know, I should read Isaac Azimov, Ray Bradbury, Ursula Le Guin. Done, done, done. I've slogged through them all, but without enthusiasm, like a neurasthenic Victorian woman fulfilling her wifely duties by lying on her back and thinking of England.

The most boring of them all? Arthur C. Clarke.

I am not sure why this should be. I think it may have to do with how much space is devoted to explaining the ins and outs and backstory of the alternate reality in which the story takes place and I don't have the patience for that. Then again, I liked reading J.R.R. Tolkien's The Hobbit even though I'm not a fan of the "fantasy" part of "science fiction and fantasy," and certainly there was a lot of explanatory Shire-, hobbit-, elf-and-etc.-related verbiage in that.

OK, all you sci-fi geeks can now weigh in to tell me what an ill-read ignoramus I am.

Government of Poltroons

The last time there was a government shutdown, I was the consul at the U.S. embassy in Vilnius, Lithuania and fortunate enough to be considered "essential." So I continued to get paid. I had very little to do except think about the enormous backlog of visa applications we were building up, so I straightened up my office and played a lot of games on the computer.

Our junior political officer, however, was not deemed "essential" and didn't get paid. He had a wife and two toddlers to support. I wound up lending him $3,000 or so to get past the 17-day shutdown. (That was back when I had money in the bank.) I'm sure he found it humiliating that he was forced to ask me for money.

The cowards in the House of Representatives don't seem to understand, or care, about the human pain they are causing, not just to federal employees and their dependents, but to others whose income or well-being depends on them -- small restaurants that cater to workers at lunchtime, mortgage lenders who can't close deals because the FHA is shut, vendors at national parks whose livelihoods are threatened and so many others. Literally millions of people are having their lives disrupted by this nonsense. And I do mean "literally."

A friend asked me the other day whether I thought the Republicans, especially the Tea Party types, actually thought they could repeal or delay Obamacare in this way. I don't know. I don't know whether they're delusional or cynical, or both.

What I know is this is no way to run a railroad.

You want to get rid of Obamacare? Fine, win the House and Senate and presidency and repeal it.

In the meantime, stop wrecking people's lives and screwing up the economy.

The Funniest Book I've Ever Read

Hands down, the funniest book I've ever read is Bill Bryson's A Walk in the Woods.

 

I can say this with some certainty because I recently re-read it, and even though I knew what was coming, I still heaved out gobs of laughter, aloud, sometimes so much so that tears were streaming down my face.

I can only recall two other authors whose work ever caused me to laugh out loud, P.G. Wodehouse, whose inimitable tales of the ineffably dense but lovable Bertie Wooster and his man Jeeves fill several howling volumes, and Carl Hiaasen, whom I'd never heard of when I checked one of his novels out of the USIA "library" in Vilnius, Lithuania, and who prompted a gaspy laugh when one of his characters quite suddenly shot someone in the foot. (I'm still a Hiaasen fan, but know what to expect now, so don't laugh out loud anymore.)

If you don't know much about Bryson, he's an American expatriate who first scored success in the UK, where he lives, and where he is a big deal, though nowadays he has a considerable following in the U.S., too. As far as I know, he writes exclusively nonfiction which is a shame, because I'd love to read a Bryson novel.

Who's the funniest author you've ever read? Did you have to wipe away tears before you could turn the page?

Have E-books Jumped the Shark?

Could the e-book revolution be over already?

Here's an interesting commentary on what seems to be a flattening-out of e-book sales and what it may, or may not tell us about the future of publishing (or lack thereof).

What do you think?

Enough Stalling, Already -- Get Organized.

The QueryTracker blog has an interesting post today on using the table function in Word to plot your novel. I confess I didn't even know that Word had a table function. I have tried any number of things over the years to plot out characters and scenes over the years. I was probably most successful using FreeMind mind-mapping software, which is, indeed, free. But maybe I'll give this Word table thing a try. Heaven knows I need all the help I can get.

What works for you?

Toot My Own Horn Time

Thank you, R.G. Sciandra, for your review of Tainted Souls on Amazon: "One of the best mystery books I've read. More twists and turns than a mountain trail with endless dead-ends. Brilliantly written, fast paced and almost impossible to put down."

Doesn't get me any closer to being dead-tree published, but still . . .