A fellow writer forwarded this link to me. These rules were published in 1947 and still hold true today. I believe rule #3 doesn't refer to polishing a rough draft, but rather refers to finishing a work to the point that you're submitting it and then continuing to tinker with it (without a revision letter from agent or editor) instead of beginning the next manuscript.
What do you think of these?
Saturday, January 3, 2009
Thursday, January 1, 2009
Boo! Hiss!
Tonight I did something I've never done before. No, I didn't run over a dwarf. I'm saving that for next year.
Think that was random? That's nothing compared to the cinematic travesty that is Spirit.
Tonight, for the first time ever, I was so completely underwhelmed by a movie, I walked out. A mere 25 minutes into the film, I just walked out.
Why?
To answer that question, let's take a look at those first 25 minutes.
Minutes 1-3: Scene opens in a quasi-black and white motif with slow falling snowflakes and a Dick Tracey meets Batman feel to the narration and ... Oh. Wait. I forgot. The first ten seconds are this weird flash of part of a woman's face saying something about how she's Death and Spirit was the only man to ever escape her grasp. I found it odd that Death should sound like a Valley Girl trying to play the role of a Serious Actor.
Minutes 4-8: Cool quasi-black and white motif continues through cemetery inexplicably full of cats and we finally see Spirit whose phone rings so long it baffles our modern sensibilities. Does he not have voice mail? An answering service? The now nearly defunct answering machine? Apparently not. I'm cool with the phone thing because I get that this has a 40's hard-boiled detective noir feel to it. Of course, then someone goes and uses the word "bling" and leaves me hopelessly stranded with one foot in the 40's and one in the 90's.
Anyway, we're treated to a conversation where a cop calls on Spirit to come because "something big" is going down and it probably involves Octopus.
Octopus. Hm. Now, where have I seen a comic book villain along the lines of an Octopus? Oh, yes. Spiderman. I guess the octopus is a pretty scary beast, right? Wrong.
Minutes 9-13: Spirit runs through his city spouting a running monologue of how much he loves his city and blah, blah, blah and I begin to notice a trend. Every conversation and monologue is chock full of vague, uselessly generic phrases that tell me absolutely nothing. We're 13 minutes into the film and I don't know anything about the characters and I'm struggling to care.
Minute 14: Spirit interrupts his useless monologue to rescue a damsel in distress. She is wowed. I wait for PLOT to begin. Surely this woman has a purpose to the story, right? Wrong. She's in and out of the movie in less than a minute and I'm supposed to just hop back on the Spirit monologue to nowhere train like I don't care that so far "disjointed" is the most complimentary phrase I can come up with.
Minutes 15-too long: Spirit somehow meets up with a cop and somehow arrives at a boggy marsh where another cop has already been lured and shot and some woman has come out of the water, gone back under, and swam away with a treasure chest. Octopus shows up and begins a dastardly duel with Spirit while his bumbling sidekicks annoy the crap out of everyone with their vacuous grins and nonsensical babblings.
Octopus and Spirit duke it out, each pulling unlikely weapons out of the mud in a fight scene that tries to be both surreal and funny and instead falls flat. At one point, the two begin smack talking each other in a script lifted straight from Showdown at the OK Corral. I began checking the screen for spurs, saddles, and John Wayne. Octopus caps off his pseudo-Western speech with the spine-chilling "I'll larn ya. I'll be larning ya real soon." and I realize this may be the first cinematic villain ever whose sole weapon is his ability to be the most annoying person in the general vicinity.
Stop! Or Octopus will irritate you to death.
The last few minutes of my time spent in the theater were full of a loosely strung together monologue (yet again) of Spirit's past (complete with the pivotal moment for himself and what I assumed will be his love interest if the director ever figures out that a story is supposed to have an arc...and may I say that the pivotal moment is so extreme that even I, with my finely honed suspension of disbelief, couldn't swallow it as justification for anything) and the kicker here is that this entire monologue is aimed at a cat.
A cat.
I talk to my cat so I get that. I do. But I can't really take seriously a guy who suddenly decides (for the sake of getting information to the audience) that he should spill his guts to a cat.
At this point, my boredom became more consuming than my desire to digest any more random bits of information, and I left.
Now, if there are any fans of the actual comic book Spirit out there and you went to see the movie and think the sun rises and sets with it, that's fine. Maybe it's a movie only someone well-versed in Spirit comic lore could ever grasp, but if the producers wanted to make any money out of the general public they needed to embrace one simple concept and apply it to the film: EVERY story needs a plot. A little GMC (goal, motivation, and conflict) for each main character would be helpful too. The only GMC we're given is that of the potential love interest and, as I said, her reaction is too abrupt and far-fetched to be believable in the least.
The only interesting cinematic moments I encountered tonight were the previews.
Think that was random? That's nothing compared to the cinematic travesty that is Spirit.
Tonight, for the first time ever, I was so completely underwhelmed by a movie, I walked out. A mere 25 minutes into the film, I just walked out.
Why?
To answer that question, let's take a look at those first 25 minutes.
Minutes 1-3: Scene opens in a quasi-black and white motif with slow falling snowflakes and a Dick Tracey meets Batman feel to the narration and ... Oh. Wait. I forgot. The first ten seconds are this weird flash of part of a woman's face saying something about how she's Death and Spirit was the only man to ever escape her grasp. I found it odd that Death should sound like a Valley Girl trying to play the role of a Serious Actor.
Minutes 4-8: Cool quasi-black and white motif continues through cemetery inexplicably full of cats and we finally see Spirit whose phone rings so long it baffles our modern sensibilities. Does he not have voice mail? An answering service? The now nearly defunct answering machine? Apparently not. I'm cool with the phone thing because I get that this has a 40's hard-boiled detective noir feel to it. Of course, then someone goes and uses the word "bling" and leaves me hopelessly stranded with one foot in the 40's and one in the 90's.
Anyway, we're treated to a conversation where a cop calls on Spirit to come because "something big" is going down and it probably involves Octopus.
Octopus. Hm. Now, where have I seen a comic book villain along the lines of an Octopus? Oh, yes. Spiderman. I guess the octopus is a pretty scary beast, right? Wrong.
Minutes 9-13: Spirit runs through his city spouting a running monologue of how much he loves his city and blah, blah, blah and I begin to notice a trend. Every conversation and monologue is chock full of vague, uselessly generic phrases that tell me absolutely nothing. We're 13 minutes into the film and I don't know anything about the characters and I'm struggling to care.
Minute 14: Spirit interrupts his useless monologue to rescue a damsel in distress. She is wowed. I wait for PLOT to begin. Surely this woman has a purpose to the story, right? Wrong. She's in and out of the movie in less than a minute and I'm supposed to just hop back on the Spirit monologue to nowhere train like I don't care that so far "disjointed" is the most complimentary phrase I can come up with.
Minutes 15-too long: Spirit somehow meets up with a cop and somehow arrives at a boggy marsh where another cop has already been lured and shot and some woman has come out of the water, gone back under, and swam away with a treasure chest. Octopus shows up and begins a dastardly duel with Spirit while his bumbling sidekicks annoy the crap out of everyone with their vacuous grins and nonsensical babblings.
Octopus and Spirit duke it out, each pulling unlikely weapons out of the mud in a fight scene that tries to be both surreal and funny and instead falls flat. At one point, the two begin smack talking each other in a script lifted straight from Showdown at the OK Corral. I began checking the screen for spurs, saddles, and John Wayne. Octopus caps off his pseudo-Western speech with the spine-chilling "I'll larn ya. I'll be larning ya real soon." and I realize this may be the first cinematic villain ever whose sole weapon is his ability to be the most annoying person in the general vicinity.
Stop! Or Octopus will irritate you to death.
The last few minutes of my time spent in the theater were full of a loosely strung together monologue (yet again) of Spirit's past (complete with the pivotal moment for himself and what I assumed will be his love interest if the director ever figures out that a story is supposed to have an arc...and may I say that the pivotal moment is so extreme that even I, with my finely honed suspension of disbelief, couldn't swallow it as justification for anything) and the kicker here is that this entire monologue is aimed at a cat.
A cat.
I talk to my cat so I get that. I do. But I can't really take seriously a guy who suddenly decides (for the sake of getting information to the audience) that he should spill his guts to a cat.
At this point, my boredom became more consuming than my desire to digest any more random bits of information, and I left.
Now, if there are any fans of the actual comic book Spirit out there and you went to see the movie and think the sun rises and sets with it, that's fine. Maybe it's a movie only someone well-versed in Spirit comic lore could ever grasp, but if the producers wanted to make any money out of the general public they needed to embrace one simple concept and apply it to the film: EVERY story needs a plot. A little GMC (goal, motivation, and conflict) for each main character would be helpful too. The only GMC we're given is that of the potential love interest and, as I said, her reaction is too abrupt and far-fetched to be believable in the least.
The only interesting cinematic moments I encountered tonight were the previews.
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Reply From Mr. or Ms. C.J. Redwine
Dear Mr. or Ms. C.J. Redwine, (Hm. Yes, I can see how a pink page, an obsession with stilettos, and the constant reference to myself as a mother might cause confusion as to my gender.)
I'm a reader of your blog. (Are you now?) You seem like a smart businessperson. (Really? My hubby begs to differ. Oh. Wait. You didn't know about my hubby.) I too am a businessperson. (I'm guessing your talents lie somewhere below mine. Waaaay below.) We could have a mutual profitable relationship with your blog and my web site. (Reeeaaalllyyy?)
If your (It's "you're," actually, but on the grand scale of errors you've made here, it isn't really important.) interested in having a fun site like Idiots R Us (slight paraphrasing on my part, but definitely more accurate) attached to your blog (like a tumor, perhaps?), go ahead and link. Publicity makes the world go around! (And here I thought it was love. Or at least money.)
Thanks!
Idiots R Us (Actual name and site redacted because I refuse to send one single hit their way from this blog. Besides, you don't actually believe in those make $50,000 a week from the comfort of your couch schemes, right?)
Yeah. Let me get right on that.
I'm a reader of your blog. (Are you now?) You seem like a smart businessperson. (Really? My hubby begs to differ. Oh. Wait. You didn't know about my hubby.) I too am a businessperson. (I'm guessing your talents lie somewhere below mine. Waaaay below.) We could have a mutual profitable relationship with your blog and my web site. (Reeeaaalllyyy?)
If your (It's "you're," actually, but on the grand scale of errors you've made here, it isn't really important.) interested in having a fun site like Idiots R Us (slight paraphrasing on my part, but definitely more accurate) attached to your blog (like a tumor, perhaps?), go ahead and link. Publicity makes the world go around! (And here I thought it was love. Or at least money.)
Thanks!
Idiots R Us (Actual name and site redacted because I refuse to send one single hit their way from this blog. Besides, you don't actually believe in those make $50,000 a week from the comfort of your couch schemes, right?)
Yeah. Let me get right on that.
Monday, December 29, 2008
It's 10:21 a.m.--Do you know where YOUR glue stick is?
1. I took a few days off from blogging for two reasons.
2. One, I wanted to be offline as much as possible to enjoy time with my family over Christmas.
3. Two, Christmas day was the ONLY day last week that one of us wasn't throwing up.
4. Lovely, I know.
5. Looks like we're all healthy now and I once again have the energy required to wade through the copious amount of laundry screaming for my attention.
6. Christmas day was fun. The kids woke us up by turning on the Scientist's radio full blast (Better than some of the other wake up calls I've had all week...puking, remember? Blech.) and we all raced downstairs to see what Santa brought.
7. After stockings and a pancake breakfast, the kids opened the HUGE present from their grandparents...the one they'd been salivating over for a month.
8. Rock Band. Much screaming. A few hysterical wails along the lines of "This is the best day of my life!" I decided the grandparents should be alerted to the joy they'd given my children.
9. It was 6 a.m. their time.
10. We called.
11. =D
12. If we get the joy of being awakened early Christmas morning by our children, why should we keep that to ourselves?
13. That would be selfish.
14. Starshine was walking into church Sunday morning and flashed the inside of his jacket at me, much the way you see scam artists on the streets give you a quick peek at fake gold chains or aluminum-plated Rolex counterfeits.
15. Instead of jewelery, however, Starshine had a glue stick wedged in the clear plastic inner pocket of his jacket. (I didn't even know his jacket had a clear plastic inner pocket.)
16. "Why do you have a glue stick in your pocket?" I asked.
17. He leaned toward me and assumed his most serious expression. "I'm prepared for any gluing emergencies today."
18. "Are there usually gluing emergencies at church?" I asked.
19. He widened his eyes. "Mom. You never know when you're going to need glue. It's best to be prepared."
20. So it is.
21. Reader Question: Do you make New Year's Resolutions?
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Merry Christmas!
To Do List:
1. Discourage the cat from eating tinsel.
2. Sweep the floor and light candles instead of using all the lights. That way it looks mopped as well.
3. Discourage the cat from jumping into the middle of the presents.
4. Hide ripped wrapping paper with tape and a strategically placed gift bag.
5. Thaw turkey.
6. Discourage cat from getting on kitchen counters to investigate thawing turkey.
7. Make candy cane cookies for Santa.
8. Agree to children's demands to make gingerbread poop for Santa as well.
9. Wonder aloud why all the stockings aren't full of coal.
10. Read the Christmas story.
11. Discourage the cat from "playing" with the ceramic nativity set.
12. Super glue the hapless shepherd's head back in place.
13. Renew adamant objection to cat's preference for ingesting tinsel.
14. Remind cat that tinsel is always much nicer on the way in than on the way out.
15. Realize cat either A) doesn't understand what you're saying or B) doesn't care and that you have sunk to the level of having one-sided passionate debates with a four-legged animal and break out the eggnog.
16. Let kids open an early present.
17. Listen to Starshine's earnest explanation of why his new Bakugon toys aren't fit for three year olds.
18. Agree solemnly that even though a Bakugon is the size of a plum, a three year old could swallow it.
19. Remember Daredevil's early childhood and decide Starshine's explanation holds merit.
20. Discourage the cat from chewing through the Christmas light cord.
21. Turn on Sirius Radio Christmas music channel.
22. Ignore children's protests when "boring" songs by Nat King Cole and Karen Carpenter are played.
23. Track Santa's progress on NASA's Santa tracker web site.
24. Set out cookies and eggnog for Santa and forcibly shove all three boys into bed with promises that if they're still awake when Santa gets here, he'll skip them.
25. Sternly discourage the cat AND the dog from eating Santa's cookies.
26. Eat Santa's cookies.
27. Go to bed with the knowledge that even though we've told the kids not to wake us up before 7 am, we'll hear them outside our door by 6:30.
Merry Christmas to you and your family and may your day be filled with warmth and love!
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Quote of the Day
From Starshine (who else?):
For the record, I have absolutely no explanation for this.
"Hold it! No one touches my spleen!"
For the record, I have absolutely no explanation for this.
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