Tag: commentary

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The Uncomfortable Closeness of Narrative

A-blog-is-basically-an-online-journal.“The most important character in every novel is the author’s personal story. The anguish in the narrative, as well as the tender moments, they all derive from it and make it necessary for the entire novel’s existence.”

I write in first person. Sometimes. And every single time I write in first person I wonder how much of it is me, my own thoughts and fears, my own variances and expressions, my own essence. If we really do write what we know, then maybe all of my characters have a little of me in them, which is kind of scary but kind of comforting at the same time. My imagination is vast and varied, and my experience a bit less so, but my words take on a mind of their own. I’m sure other writers can agree with me on this, if not quite on process, because we all go about it in a way that makes sense to us, the process. But with that imagination and the potential of every single character I write, all of that influences the narrative a lot more than my own life.

Then you read my first novel, and you tell me that so much of it sounds like it’s my life. Because so much of it is directly from my own life. What the conundrum, huh? And yet, even though so much of it derives from my personal anguish and my own internal conflicts, it’s still a work of fiction. Even though it’s in first person. Even though it’s largely from my life. When I sat down to write Detours that first day, I had no idea where it was going to go, what it had to say, and where it was going to take me. And when the main character spoke to me, he used my voice. I felt like we were as close as twins, that we shared so much history, but that in the end we led our own lives for better or for worse. Continue reading “The Uncomfortable Closeness of Narrative”

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What Guys Do

Remember the 1980s Family Feud game show where they challenged contestants to pick out most popular answers to questions? What I loved was how sometimes the top answers were odd, and I just couldn’t help wondering if they were lying and no one really gave that answer. Like when the category was Things Found In … Continue reading What Guys Do

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The Loss of Possibility

NeverEndingStory-LastOfFantasia
“Bastion, Fantasia is yours.”

“Without leaps of imagination or dreaming, we lose the excitement of possibilities. Dreaming, after all, is a form of planning.” – Gloria Steinem

Too many people these days disregard possibility. They spend so much time focusing on the now that they lose sight of the future. They forget that things we do now affect our future. It’s why regret comes in waves and knocks us down when we least expect it. I remember when I saw The Neverending Story for the first time, and I identified with the poor creatures and people in Fantasia who merely want to be acknowledged again by children and adults alike, by people who have lost their imaginations and their will to dream up things fantastic. I identify even more now with those creatures and people now than I did back then. The Nothing is taking over our world. Continue reading “The Loss of Possibility”

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Still

Dr_ Dre ft_ Snoop Dogg - Still D_R_E“Still rock my khakis with a cuff and a crease. Still got love for the streets, repping 213. Still the beat bangs. Still doing my thang. Since I left, ain’t too much changed. Still.” – Dr. Dre, Still D.R.E.

Still (adjective): remaining in place or at rest; motionless; stationary.

When was the last time you stood still, without moving, just stood there thinking whatever thoughts were in your head but not acting on them, just stood there listening to the silence, or the noise, or whatever else was going on around you? It feels good to do that every once in a while, but it gets harder and harder to do in this rapid-paced world in which we live every day of our lives. Even if you don’t live in a major city like Tokyo or Mexico City, it’s difficult to pause the world and its influence long enough to reflect.

And yet, reflection is the most important part of life, thinking about what we do before we do it, while we’re doing it, and after we do it, instead of flitting from one thing to the next with no chance to think about our reasoning or motivation for them. While I was studying possible questions for a job interview a few weeks ago it hit me: it’s tough to figure out, to define, and to verbalize my motivations. I know on a deep level why I do what I do, what my strengths and weaknesses are in a general sense, but how do I bring that up to the surface? Continue reading “Still”

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The F Word

GRADE_FI hear it everywhere, from on the streets, to at work, on television shows, and even from my own children. It’s pervasive in this culture, and I can’t stand it. Every single time I hear that word I want to scream because it’s probably the single most overused, and most incorrectly used, word in the language. When I was younger I used to use it to excess too, so I understand why it’s so widely used, but as I’ve gotten older it just grates on me and I want to say something every time I hear someone say it. The other day I was at work when a little kid was whining to her mom, and she said the F word. I wanted to say something to her, but her mother did it instead, explaining what that word really meant. I was proud of her; it’s not often that I hear anyone corrected for its use.

Then I told my seven-year old she couldn’t have her iPad this morning, and I heard it for the umpteenth time come out of her mouth.

“But Dad, it’s not FAIR!” she told me, and I couldn’t take it anymore.

“It’s not fair that some people don’t have anything to eat while others waste food,” I said. “It’s not fair that other kids don’t have an iPad and you do. You want to give them yours?” Continue reading “The F Word”

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“Messy” is the new “Blue”

Shades_Of_Blue_Wallpaper_1ad0gI’ve always wondered where the idea of blue being used to describe a sad emotion came from. Blue can be an incredibly vibrant color when at its best. I remember when I was a kid my “uncle” had this bright blue shirt that he would always wear on Sundays. It was something we could count on whenever we saw him on a Sunday, that bright blue shirt and a smile on his unshaven face. I never asked him about that blue shirt but I always thought about it, and what it might have meant to him. As I got older I realized there actually must have been a number of different shirts all in the same color because just one would have worn out or faded with time. He was always happy in that shirt, so I equated that color with happiness. Back then when anyone would tell me they were feeling blue, I would smile and say, “Great!” never minding their confused expressions.

There are so many different shades of blue, too, something else that didn’t truly resonate as a child. The sky was blue, and I knew it wasn’t the same blue as my uncle’s shirt, but my brain didn’t really process. My uniform for private school was a yellow shirt with navy blue pants. They were so dark they were hard to distinguish from black. I couldn’t reconcile the bright blue of the shirt with the light blue of the sky with the dark blue of the navy pants. That every single one of those things could be blue and yet be so distinguishable from each other was mind boggling. Blue seemed to me to be in just about everything around me, and I looked for it everywhere. Continue reading ““Messy” is the new “Blue””