June 2007 Archives

Today is Sequential Task Friday. Instead of trying to do multiple things at the same time like watching an episode of Battlestar Galactica, cleaning the kitchen, posting photos, writing my Script Frenzy screenplay, and reading the next book on my list all at the same time like I would normally try to do, I'm making a concerted effort to do them in sequence. It's more difficult than you might think. Like right now, you probably think I wrote that list of tasks all in one sitting, but really, after each comma, I got up and went and did something else. In fact, in the time it took to write that sentence (roughly forty minutes), I watched ten minutes of BSG, cleaned the stovetop, picked a few photos to post, wrote 200 words of the screenplay, and read ten pages. It sounds like I did quite a bit, but I can't cross one thing off my list. Multitasking makes life miserable (especially for a list-maker like me), yet it's such a difficult habit to break, which is why I'm trying hard to quit it today. Okay, I'm going to try to finish cleaning the kitchen without doing anything else. Wish me luck and TGISTF.

I just finished reading Cannery Row by John Steinbeck. Before I get to a couple of reasons why I like Steinbeck's writing, here is one of my favorite passages, on page 104...

He thought it would be nice to take a very long walk. He put on a little knapsack and he walked through Indiana and Kentucky and North Carolina and Georgia clear to Florida. He walked among farmers and mountain people, among the swamp people and fisherman. And everywhere people asked him why he was walking through the country.

Because he loved true things, he tried to explain. He said he was nervous and besides he wanted to see the country, smell the ground and look at grass and birds and trees, to savor the country, and there was no other way to do it save on foot. And people didn't like him for telling the truth. They scowled, or shook and tapped their heads, they laughed as though they knew it was a lie and they appreciated a liar. And some, afraid for their daughters or their pigs, told him to move on, to get going, just not to stop near their place if he knew what was good for him.

And so he stopped trying to tell the truth. He said he was doing it on a bet - that he stood to win a hundred dollars. Everyone liked him then and believed him. They asked him in to dinner and gave him a bed and they put lunches up for him and wished him good luck and thought he was a hell of a fine fellow. Doc still loved true things but he knew it was not a general love and it could be a very dangerous mistress.

One of the reasons I like Steinbeck is his genuine affection for his characters. When he writes about Doc (as in the previous passage) or Lee Chong or Dora or Mack and the boys, one senses he truly cares about them and revels in their good qualities and flaws, in their habits and their lives. The way he describes them makes me wish I could meet some of them, although I'd have to watch myself around Mack lest I be boondoggled into giving him a quart of whiskey.

I also love the way Steinbeck writes about Monterey and Cannery Row. It would be wonderful to visit the places he describes - the Palace Flophouse and Grill, Western Biological, and Henri the Painter's boat. Henri, by the way, is a French painter who is neither a painter nor French. Every chapter is a snapshot of the Row and the people that live there. If the chapters were actual digital photos, one could simply stitch them together to create a magnificent panorama of the seaside community.

I brought this wonderful book along on the backpacking trip because of its size and weight. I also had a feeling it would be the perfect book to read outdoors and I was right.

Hello, everybody. I'm happy to report that I survived my first backpacking trip, a four-day excursion in Desolation Wilderness, a recreation area just west of Lake Tahoe. This was my second visit to the area, but my first camping trip there. I hiked to Fontanillis Lake last year during my first visit.

On Friday, we started from the Glen Alpine trail head, located near Fallen Leaf Lake and hiked roughly five miles to our campsite at Heather Lake.

On Saturday, we hiked to the top of Mt. Tallac and were greeted with the amazing sight of the Lake Tahoe Basin.

On Sunday, we rambled over to Aloha Lake and Mosquito Pass. On our way back, we stopped to relax on the ledges overlooking the lake and spotted a small smoke plume to the east. We guessed a fire had broken out somewhere near South Lake Tahoe. Over the next hour and a half, we sat and watched the plume grow. We knew it was a big fire, we just didn't know the seriousness or true extent of it. Perhaps stupidly, we stayed the night as we had originally planned.

On Monday, we awoke to find ourselves in a smoky haze. Luckily, it was only smoke. We quickly broke camp and hiked five miles back through the ashy haze to the trail head. Only when we reached the car and turned on the radio did we learn the scope and scale of the Angora Fire.

All roads into South Lake Tahoe were closed, so we had to take Highway 89 north through Tahoe City to catch Interstate 80 in Truckee to head home.

That's just a quick and dirty summary of my first backpacking trip. Photos and details to follow.

My heart goes out to the folks who lost homes and businesses in the fire and my prayers are with the firefighters who are working tirelessly and risking their lives to save structures and contain the blaze.

If you're searching for something to read this summer, I have seven recommendations. Over the last four weeks, I read the following books...

Requiem for an Assassin by Barry Eisler - The sixth installment in the series finds John Rain grudgingly working for his longtime foe, a rogue CIA agent named Jim Hilger. Hilger kidnaps Dox, Rain's partner and closest friend, and threatens to kill him if Rain doesn't carry out three hits. I zipped through this book, eager to see if Rain would save Dox and if he'd take down Hilger once and for all. I got a kick out of the scenes set in Palo Alto, but I'm going to avoid cycling around that area for a while.

Dispatches from the Edge: A Memoir of War, Disasters, and Survival by Anderson Cooper - The book mostly focuses on the two major disasters of 2005 - the tsunami in Asia and Hurricane Katrina, but it also provides a glimpse into the life of a journalist in places like Vietnam, Niger, and Iraq. Tucked in between are insights into Cooper's personal tragedies (his father's death and his brother's suicide). Cooper is haunted by the death and destruction he has seen and yet is profoundly drawn to them. A gripping book.

The Old Ball Game by Frank Deford - A fascinating dual biography about two baseball greats: John McGraw and Christy Mathewson. Both shaped baseball while it was still in its infancy. "Mugsy" McGraw was the feisty and controversial manager of the New York Giants. Mathewson (or "Matty" or "Big Six", choose your favorite nickname) was the saintly, All-American boy pitching on McGraw's team. Deford does a nice job of chronicling their lives, their friendship, and their impact on the game.

Mother Night by Kurt Vonnegut - Based on Elkit's endorsement, I read this Vonnegut story about Howard Campbell, an American who becomes a Nazi propagandist during World War II. The novel takes the form of Campbell's memoirs, which he's writing from inside an Israeli prison where he's being held as a war criminal. I'm curious to see if the film adaptation (a 1996 Nick Nolte movie) lives up to the book.

The Sirens of Titan by Kurt Vonnegut - I was in a Vonnegut groove, so I went right into this one. This is a science fiction novel that includes elements that play significant roles in Vonnegut's Slaughterhouse-Five (Tralfalmadorians and becoming unstuck in time). When he revealed the purpose of life on Earth, I was instantly reminded of Douglas Adams' The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.

At the Mercy of the River: An Exploration of the Last African Wilderness by Peter Stark - It's the engaging account of a two-week kayaking expedition down the dangerous Lugenda River in Mozambique. Stark, an author and writer for Outside magazine, is one of the five-member crew making the "first descent". Along the way, the team must contend with hippos, crocodiles, rapids, and waterfalls. All of these seem to pale in comparison to their greatest challenge - conflicting personalities. Woven into Stark's narrative is a fascinating history of European and Asian exploration in Africa. The tales of Mungo Park and David Livingstone complement Stark's journey nicely.

Wise Blood by Flannery O'Connor – I came across O'Connor's name while reading about Vonnegut. She primarily wrote short stories, but Wise Blood is one of her rare longer works. It's the tale of Hazel Motes, a soldier returning home to nothing, seeking redemption, and struggling with his faith. It's a comic novel, but it doesn't contain light or silly humor. (Okay, there is a guy who dresses up in a gorilla suit, but that's where the silliness ends.) The humor is dark and biting and it deepens the story (the way humor should when it's done well).

When it comes to reading, there are two principal approaches: the Methodical and the Flying Fig.

In the Methodical Approach, the reader's priority is the experience of reading. The environment, or reading spot, must meet specific requirements and standards. It must have suitable lighting, preferably natural. The seat must be clean and comfortable enough to sit in for at least an hour, but not so comfortable as to induce sleep. The spot must be free from distractions or interruptions. Finally, it must be near a flat surface upon which to place snacks or a cup of coffee or tea. Once the environment has been found or adjusted to meet these requirements, the reading can commence.

In the Flying Fig Approach, the reader's priority is the act of reading. As long as the reader has a book, a hint of light, and sufficient oxygen, he or she is happy and could give a flying fig about everything else.

While I primarily use the Flying Fig Approach, I prefer the Methodical, especially on the weekends, when I have time to focus more on the experience than the act. I slip out of bed at sunrise, start the coffee maker, open the drapes in the front room to let the sunlight stream in, pour a cup of coffee, grab a book, and curl up on the couch to read. It is one of the best ways to read.

I hiked with my backpacking gear for the second time last Friday. I loaded 30 pounds of Skittles equipment (how I wish it were Skittles) into the pack (a Kelty Red Cloud 5600, to be specific) and hiked through Henry Coe to see if I could survive steeper terrain.

I did a simple 4-mile out and back along Monument Trail and Hobbs Road, which took me just beyond Frog Lake. The hiking poles helped in both directions, but uphill was still nasty.

Before I started, a volunteer ranger asked me what I was doing and I said, "I'm practicing with this gear here before backpacking in the Sierras."

He said, "You know what? Most people say that and I tell them they've got all wrong. They should be practicing in the Sierras so they can backpack around here. If you can survive Coe, you're set."

Well, I survived four miles of Coe, but we'll see what that means in the Sierras.

On Friday, I finally watched The Departed, Martin Scorsese's Oscar-winning remake of Infernal Affairs, the edge-of-your-seat Hong Kong crime thriller made in 2002.

The story is basically the same in both movies. A powerful mob boss succeeds in planting a mole the police force. Meanwhile, an undercover cop manages to infiltrate the mob. The loyalty of each is tested as the two factions fight. When both sides suspect a mole in their respective organizations, it becomes a race to discover their identities.

Beyond the basic premise, the films are quite different. I thought it would be fun to do a side-by-side comparison and award an Edge to the films in each category

Final Tally: TD - 4.5, IA - 6.5.

Both were good movies, but I enjoyed IA more. If you liked The Departed, but haven't seen the original, I would highly recommend watching Infernal Affairs.

If one had been looking for me last night, one would have found me at a Script Frenzy write-in in the loft of Books Inc. in Mountain View. One would have seen me feverishly writing my screenplay, trying to fill in the nearly 2,000-word sinkhole that had suddenly appeared two days ago. One would have seen me squander the feverishness by stopping to eavesdrop on the author event taking place on the first floor of the bookstore. One would have also seen my drinking lukewarm coffee from a tall glass.

The author, Antonia Juhasz, was speaking to a modest-sized crowd about her book, The Bu$h Agenda. Every time she said words like Rice, Chevron, Iraq, or oil, I would pause to listen. Under different circumstances, I would have enjoyed hearing her speak, but last night, I silently cursed myself for forgetting to bring my mp3 player. At the same time, I made a mental note to borrow her book from the library. (My book budget is shot through July and it's only mid-June. Whoops.)

Despite the distractions, I managed to eliminate my word count deficit. Not only that, I also succeeded in creating a small surplus. My goal for today is to reach 10,000 words.

If I had a chalkboard, I would write one-hundred times, "I shall not mention music I dislike in my journal". It's an unhealthy habit. Since I don't have a chalkboard, I will have to make amends some other way. To that end, I thought I would mention a song I like tremendously. It's Jonathan Coulton's "Octopus". He released it last week and it is the first original song he has shared since the end of his Thing-a-Week project nine months ago. If you haven't heard it yet, it's a catchy underwater break up song I think you'll enjoy.

I still remember the words you said
They were hard enough to leave a mark
And now they echo inside my head
As I spiral down into the dark
I windmill upside down
Knowing you’ll come at me again
And I feel your shadow pass above me

Octopus, some kind of octopus
Tearing my shell apart
Letting the sea get in
You make my insides outside

Song that has burrowed into my head like a giant tick... "Don't Matter" by Akon (song automatically starts)

Nobody wanna see us together
But it don't matter no
Cause I got you babe
Nobody wanna see us together
But it don't matter no
Cause I got you babe
Cause we gon' fight
Oh yes we gon' fight
Believe we gon' fight
Fight for our right to love yeah

There more I despise it, the deeper it goes. Somebody needs to invent tweezers for extracting unwanted songs

It has been approximately 5 days and 23 hours since I last wrote here. I'm feeling a little rusty, so I thought I would jot down a couple of things I've down over the last few days. Let's see, I

> attended my first Script Frenzy write-in. That happened last Wednesday at Mission City Coffee in Santa Clara. There were half a dozen of us working away at our screenplays. A couple of tables away, a group of actors were practicing their lines for an upcoming production. Part of me wished I had printed a page or two of my script for them to perform. Seeing the lameness brought to life would have been humbling, but awesome.

> watched over four hours of How I Met Your Mother. If I had to describe the show as an A meets B, I would say it is Friends meets Two Guys and a Girl. It's one of the funniest shows on television today; right up there with The Office. Of course, I wasn't just watching it for fun. I was watching it for the sake of research. Edutainment, if you will. I was trying to see how the writers used recurring jokes, flashbacks, and narration for maximum comedic effect.

> watched part of the French Open. I must admit that I was rooting for Roger Federer to finally beat Rafael Nadal, who is invincible on the clay courts of Roland Garros. For the third year in a row, Nadal crushed Federer. It was a match and rivalry worth watching, even if it meant getting up early on Sunday to see it. (Okay, not that early. I missed the first set, which started at 6 a.m., but I did catch the rest of the match.) I read on ESPN that over the past four years, Federer has a win-loss record of 277-19. Of those 19 losses, 7 have been to Nadal. Those are just incredible statistics. Nadal is only 21 years old and still on the rise, which makes one wonders if he'll soon begin beating Federer on other surfaces.

> went on a four-mile test walk to break in my backpacking gear. In a couple of weeks, I'll be going on my first backpacking trip. I wanted to see how everything fit in the pack (sleeping bag, pad, tent, food, clothing, etc.) and see how the pack felt on my back. We went over to the Coyote Creek Trail to try it out. The trail is flat and paved, which is completely opposite of the conditions I'll be on, but it was a good first outing nonetheless. This weekend, I'll probably venture over to Henry Coe to try it out on steeper terrain. Yesterday, the pack only weighed 25 pounds, which is roughly ten pounds less than the final weight I'll be carrying. A couple of articles recommended hiking with a lighter pack the first time and increasing the weight on subsequent hikes. The good news is that everything felt fine. My shoulders felt a little sore and my legs were a little tired afterwards, but I feel fine today. I can't wait to go!

Today feels like it's going to be a zero-word day, Frenzy-wise. I'm just not feeling it. I don’t know what "it" is exactly, but it isn't being felt.

I'm supposedly writing a comedy, but I've yet to write a scene that makes me laugh out loud. Actually, I haven't written a line that makes me laugh out loud. There are a couple of chucklers, but they are horribly outnumbered by a combined force of cringers and ho-hummers. I'm like Custer, except I'm making my stand at the Battle of the Little Biglaugh.

Writing is a lot like kayaking. Every original story is an unexplored river. Long before dipping a paddle in the water, experienced kayakers research the river – poring over topographical maps, choosing where to put in and take out, and scouting potential trouble spots via helicopter. Long before typing a word, experienced writers research the story – fleshing out characters, outlining the plot, and scanning for potential hurdles.

Inexperienced kayakers (and writers) do none of this. Like me, they just start off, not knowing where they're going or what lies ahead. They naively assume they'll survive whatever obstacles they encounter (be they rapids, crocodiles, or plot inconsistencies).

Fortunately, for writers, the assumption of survival is mostly true (unless one is the type of writer who considers public humiliation a fate worse than death). If writing was exactly like kayaking, we would hear many more cautionary tales of writers drowning or becoming mid-morning crocodile snacks. We would also see more writers wearing life vests when typing away at laptops in coffee shops.

Another concept writing and kayaking have in common (and this is the point of the previous three paragraphs of nonsense) is the idea of portage.

If a kayaker reaches an impassable section of a river, he or she simply portages or carries his or her kayak around the difficult spot and resumes the journey further downstream.

Writers can do something similar. If they come upon an unnavigable point in the story, they can simply portage to a different chapter or scene and return to the tricky spot later if they choose. Luckily, laptops weigh a lot less than kayaks (at least they have for the last ten years or so), so it's easy for writers to slip out of and back into a story stream whenever and wherever they want.

Sometimes, I get so caught up writing a particular scene or hung up trying to write a funny line, I forget about portage. I forget I can temporarily leave it behind and pick up the story at a different point.

Portage is what I'm going to try later today to keep this from being a zero-word day. What makes it even nicer is that my story isn't so much a river (with a defined course) as it is an ocean (with an endless coast of possibilities), which is a good thing right now, but won't be in another week or so.

If you're participating in Script Frenzy, I hope your screenplay is coming along. If you get stuck, give portage a try. It wouldn't have been much help to Custer, but it might just be a help to you.

For fun, I created a placeholder movie poster for my screenplay using one of FD's Flickr Toys. With the exception of the release date, all information on the poster is subject to change.

I got off to a strong start today with Script Frenzy, at least in terms of word count. I've written 981 words. That means I only have 19,019 to go. I'm still struggling with the actual structure of screenplays (scenes, camera direction, actions, etc.). I'm also writing the screenplay the same way I wrote my previous NaNo-novels - without the benefit of any real preparation. Nothing is outlined or planned out, so I have a feeling a large portion of Missing in Mallville's script (roughly 100% of it) won't make any sense and will remain so until it has been heavily revised.

Even so, I thought it would be fun (and humbling) to share a piece of the opening with you. It's clunky and drags at a snail's pace right now, but I keep reminding myself that it's only a draft, so it's allowed to be that way for the time being. Enjoy...

FADE IN:

EXT. NATURE'S GLORY HEADQUARTERS - AFTERNOON

An ornate sign that shows this is the headquarters of Nature's
Glory, environmental technology development corporation and
government contractor.

CAMERA PULLS BACK to reveal a massive fountain with an enormous
statue of a man holding up a globe of Mother Earth in both
hands as if offering it to Heaven. His gaze, fixed on the
sphere, is one of reverence with a hint of satisfaction. He
is standing atop a gold mountain. At his feet is a dollar
sign broken in half. Gold water cascades down the mountain
like a waterfall. The water tumbles into a basin that feeds
a gold river that winds its way back towards the main
campus, which is a series of buildings disguised as a
mountain range. It is covered by a lush green pine forest
and blends into the surrounding wilderness.

CAMERA PANS UP AND ZOOMS IN on the statue's face. DISSOLVES TO:

The now familiar face of STILL GOBS, early 40s, head of
Nature's Glory. Clean cut, professional, ruthless. He wears
a pressed pinstripe suit. He is the embodiment of Corporate
America. His confidence and determination are so palpable
that they are like a steel rod running straight down his
spine.

CAMERA PULLS BACK TO REVEAL:

INT. OFFICE OF STILL GOBS

A sprawling office of steel and glass. Large glass tables
are pedestals for the company's latest prototypes and
product models. There's a noticeable lack of warmth. The
walls are made of glass. Three of them project images of a
snow-covered mountain range somewhere in Colorado. The
fourth window wall reveals the real landscape outside. One
pane is darker and holds the image of a man's head. This is
MARK "GRASSHOPPER" THOMPSON, mid-30s, GOBS' vice-president
in charge of eco-friendly war machines.

STILL
(crosses arms)
Where are we with the hybrid
Abrams, Thompson?

THOMPSON
Sir, we've been able to increase
the range of the laser cannon by
40% without needing to install an
additional solar panel array. And we've
been able to increase the cruising
range by 25% by improving the efficiency
of the biodiesel engine.

STILL
Good, but for this order, don't
include the engine modifications.
We'll save that for the next
federal contract. It will make excellent
negotiating leverage. We can then
also charge them extra for refitting
this batch with the engine upgrades
when the time comes.

THOMPSON
(hesitates slightly, but
quickly recovers)
Oh, yes, Mr. Gobs. I should
mention, though, sir, we still haven't
been able to fix the thermal
management system.

STILL
Don't worry about that. We'll
address that with a patch, I mean,
in the next design round. Just get this
order produced. I have to go.

THOMPSON
(noticeably concerned)
But, sir, if we don't address it,
the soldiers will bake in there. We
can't get the crew compartment
below 105 degrees without adding an additional
air handling unit and...

STILL
(visibly annoyed)
Thompson, our soldiers are the most
elite fighters in the history of
the world. Or so I'm told. They can
handle a few extra degrees. If nothing
else, install an additional
personal cooling unit in each tank.

THOMPSON
(holds up a camouflaged water
bottle fan)
You mean one of these?

STILL
That's it. Now, I really must go. I
have to pick up my daughter from
school.

THOMPSON
(resigned)
Fine, sir, we'll start production
immediately, with the added PCUs.
Say hello to Molly for me and tell
her Jane is looking forward to
their play date tomorrow.

STILL
Yes, yes.
(beat)
Who's Jane?

THOMPSON
My daughter. Your goddaughter, sir.

STILL
I'm pulling your leg, Thompson.

THOMPSON
Oh, I-

STILL taps his desk and the connection is cut. He's
obviously finished with the conversation.