In a recent interview with some Eastfield College advisors, they asked me a few good questions that I thought i might share here too. It may help students better understand how at least one person found his way to a career field that did essentially blend some passions and interests.
Honestly, I couldn’t decide what to major in, so I rolled the dice and picked Archaeology. When those classes ended up being awfully slow (and all mysteriously scheduled for 8am), I started going down the alphabet and switched to Botany.
Actually, I’m kidding.
Truth is, being asked to pick ONE field and career at 18 was really scary, so I stayed “general studies” for far too long. It wasn’t until my junior year that I really started paying attention to myself and noticing that I didn’t mind doing the reading and homework in certain classes. I loved the communication classes that taught me how to get what I wanted and how to argue carefully. I was passionately pissed off when I learned in my gender and communication classes about our patriarchal society and wanted to make a difference. I was shocked and slightly ashamed when I learned in my American history classes about the real story of race in the US, and I wanted to learn what else I didn’t know. I also had always loved storytelling. It was the secret teddy bear I had carried with me from youth, but I learned not to be ashamed of it, to embrace it instead. Fiction writing ended up being an excellent way to pull my passions together and share the things I wanted others to know.
I loved my first two years of college for the fun and independence as well as the increased responsibility and growth. In fact, I have a lot of stories from that time that I’m not proud of, but I occasionally share some of these pearls to help my students see. One thing I learned is that it’s okay to make colossal mistakes. As a great thinker once said in a galaxy far, far away: “The greatest teacher, failure is.” For example, I learned when I got fired for the first time that there are consequences to mis-prioritizing my actions. That’s a story for another day.
I loved my last two years of college because I finally discovered curiosity and was finally brave enough to look stupid. For much of my life, when I didn’t understand something, I pretended I did or changed the subject. I thought showing I didn’t know everything was a risk and would make people realize I was a failure, but that inhibited me from really learning. I finally started taking the risks and chanced looking stupid so that I could ask questions. This risk-taking, the feeling the fear and doing it anyway, helped me open up the world and explore what and where I wanted.
My curiosity led me down rabbit holes and to more specific fields and possibilities. Many were revelatory. Some were not. I learned about mapping social networks and tracing the growth of ideas, long before there was social media to facilitate this. Long before other nations started using social media to infect our population with propaganda. I learned about fiction that had the power to make people collapse with feeling, stories that are so true, they help others understand life, understand themselves. I explored the world and my mind and I am stronger because of that work. I wish I had been curious sooner, and let that curiosity motivate me more, but I’m glad I had the journey I did.
So wait, what was the question again? The source of my interest in English? English just encapsulates so many skills that are WORTH improving: I break my class into four big skills areas: 1) Reading, 2) Writing, 3) Thinking, and 4) Life. Developing all of these is necessary for a fulfilled life. Reading is the fastest path to growth and learning and being better. Writing is the fastest path to better understanding oneself and to influencing the world in which one lives. Thinking is how we “level up” everything, and the easiest way to develop thinking is by finding the right questions. Life, well, life skills are the foundation of everything else. No one can complete an English class if she/he doesn’t have enough skills practice in managing time or increasing initiative and motivation.
People ask me whether I still believe all Americans should go to college. I mean, should all vet techs have a clear understanding of sociology? Do circus clowns really need to know Texas history? I can’t say for certain. I do believe though that all human beings should have the ability to think and express themselves, and a college English class with thought provoking assignments and a careful professor guide is the best place to water those seeds.
So I went to the library to drop off a book or three and I saw this interesting looking book on the new Young Adult table. I picked it up intending to flip through it and go, but 30 minutes later I was still reading it.
Technically, You Started It, by Lana Wood Johnson is completely told in text messages, so it moves quickly and is a great example of a strong “voice.” It feels like these are two real teens; in fact, I have known variations of these kids from my classes. Neurotic young woman fascinated by facts and idealism. Quietly confident young man frustrated that everyone thinks they know who he is.
I found this to be very fresh and curious, but would you keep reading too? (And I quite liked this creative book.)
Here are the first few pages, and I don’t think this violates any plagiarism issues because 1) I’m sort of plugging the book as interesting. Well, it was to me, and 2) these pages can be found on the AMAZON page, too.
The FIRST NINE PAGES of Technically You Started It.
TOO MUCH CONTENT
Anyone wondering how to pick their next exploration into a new fantasy world might be rejoicing in today’s rich content and diversity of worlds. However, especially with the rise of self-publishing, there is an abundance of mediocrity.
Not that self-publishing is bad. I particularly like the idea that anyone can offer their work to the universe. It’s just, well, not everyone finishes before they “publish.” Part of the real role of agents and editors is to be brutally honest with writers. “It’s better, but it’s not there yet.” “It’s missing a lot of tension in the middle.” “Um, where are the female characters?” “Readers will hate this ending.” “You don’t want to sound racist, do you?” “That character is great, but this one is boring.”
These messages are CRITICAL for writers to hear.
Many aspiring writers bemoan the brick walls that they regularly find in hesitant agents and finnicky editors, but as Randy Pausch said in The Last Lecture, “The brick walls are there for a reason. They give us a chance to show how badly we want something.”
MARKETING VIDEOS HELP (And GO READ THIS BOOK)
Since there are so many choices out there, some of which are just meh (both self-published and “house-published”), one way some books and worlds are setting themselves apart is effective marketing. But even this has grown a lot in the past decade since social media and Amazon have taken over. Bookstore tours are not how I am finding out about books. I use library publications, librarians, good blog/content curators, Goodreads, and that handy Amazon tool “Customers of this book also liked these books.”
That’s how I saw this video, indexed on Amazon, for the new M.T. Anderson’s collaboration, The Assassination of Brangwain Spurge. I had never heard of it, and at first glance, I assumed it was a partially illustrated middle grade fairy tale. (It appears to be much more, and actually a Young Adult work.)
Interestingly, I’m not sure that this video would appeal to teens in the same way it does to me. The silliness may, but I’m uncertain about the more complex references and vocabulary. As a writing professional, I know that language matters. This appears to be geared toward adults interested in YA fantasy. But isn’t that a bit ingenious anyways? Readers, librarians, and book people are after all, some of the best marketers of books.
Check out the LINK and see what you think about a) the video, c) the book itself, and 4) book marketing in this age in general. Oh, and maybe let’s explore Anderson and Yelchin’s world together.
Few might have guessed at the overall high quality of Wonder Woman and the disappointing mishmash of Justice League, but both films left fans of DC’s universes wondering about Aquaman. If you haven’t see it by now, it may be because you’re not a superhero fan (and then what’s wrong with you?) or possibly a parent (What parent has time for fun?), but, despite some glaring flaws, Aquaman sets a new standard in terms of special effects in worldbuilding.
Let’s start first with the weak plot. Yes, stuff happens, which leads to other stuff, and anyone who has seen more than five action movies will predict a lot of the formulaic events.
Here’s the setup: Arthur’s mother is a queen of Atlantis, who washes up on the shore and falls in love with a human lighthouse keeper. (And by the way, these Atlanteans don’t look like Jabba the Hutt or anything; at least the main group look like humans. In fact, they’re mostly Nicole Kidman beautiful, but don’t get your hopes up: the Atlantean immigration policy appears to be similar to President Trump’s.) Their kid, Arthur, or Aquaman, is then a kid of “both worlds,” the land and the sea. Except that really means he doesn’t feel like he really belongs anywhere.
Meanwhile, back in Oz, I mean Atlantis, Queen Atlanna’s other son, Orm, hates the way the “surface” is treating the earth and the oceans, and wants to unite the seven tribes of Atlantis to then attack and subjugate surface-dwellers. Is this sounding familiar to anyone? A plan to invade another sovereign country(ies) with no exit strategy? Except that actually happened in the US. But I digress. The only possible solution (other than talking sense into the king, of course): Arthur Aquaman must come be king in Atlantis instead.
As far as plot holes go, there are quite a few. In fact, this movie could be used as an example for what to avoid to help those DC people get their writers to up their game. Plot holes, by the way, come in many types, but are generally gaps in logic or storytelling that make the audience question character choices or the flow of the plot.
One of the bigger plot holes (slight spoiler from about first 15 minutes) comes when grumpy King Orm sends mini-tsunamis to all the Atlantic coasts with tons of ocean garbage back to the surface. But where does he get the power to do that, and if he can do that, why can’t he just kill most of the surface dwellers with bigger tsunamis (since so much of the world’s population lives within 50 miles of an ocean)? And if he’ so powerful with Tsunamis why can’t he use water as a weapon like the one water wizard in the movie? And how is there a water wizard?
The biggest plot holes are sort of spoilers, so I won’t mention them, but they make the movie harder to watch a second time. Wait, but why are they doing that? What can’t that guy just relax? Why don’t they just… Oh because that’s what the script says? Not a good enough reason. The characters have to do A, B, C, and D before they can F, even though no one gives an F about the fact that there was no E after the D.
The characters were also rather weak overall. Essentially there are three stronger characters who have the essential elements of interesting character: showing conflict between warring values and making hard choices. Jason Momoa’s Aquaman (Arthur), Amber Heard’s Princess Mera, and the amazing Willem Defoe’s Vizier dude, Vulko. Almost all the other characters are one-dimensional, as in they act more like robots than thinking people.
And yet, for a superhero movie with a mediocre plot, and mostly basic characters, there were moments of authentically good acting. Essentially every scene with Nicole Kidman is better, not just because of her, but because her character draws empathy toward the other characters around her. This is some of the better writing, and some of the best acting in the movie. Fans of action movies and Kidman should see her scenes as a recipe for a heck yes. Momoa was also quite fun and unexpectedly funny at times. His performance in Game of Thrones is interesting, but slightly one dimensional. He is a foil for his counterparts.
In Aquaman, Momoa gets to be the beefcake in action scenes, but the better moments are where he gets to be amusing and self-deprecating. Willem Defoe is just incredible in anything. This is a rather simple character for someone who is so talented and multifaceted, but he elicits sympathy well. Despite some rather basic language and writing for Mera, Amber Heard even has a few strong moments where the audience feels her struggle and grow. Patrick Wilson of Angels in America fame generally doesn’t have many strong lines – King Orm is basically a simple jerk (wake up DC: villains can be multi-dimensional too) – but even he has a few moments of clarity and fun. There’s at least one extremely well placed smirk that shows nuance. Look for it. It’s worth it.
But the worldbuilding? Ah, what a masterpiece.
I almost don’t want to spoil it, but it’s worth mentioning how much detail clearly went into so many aspects of the world of this movie: the scenery; the differences between the seven Atlantean tribes; the history of “Atlantis” and the long ago master civilization that dissolved into seven pieces; how Atlanteans are able to move underwater and their relationships with other undersea creatures.
It’s worth renting the disc for the separate 20 minute featurette called “James Wan: Worldbuilder.” I know. Exciting, right? This director put so much energy and revision into the style and look of the each design. One scene from the featurette shows Wan considering about 7 different tridents as they picked and tweaked which elements looked best for different characters. This was definitely time well spent.
Probably my favorite bit of worldbuilding was the looks and the feel of the several different underwater cities and populations. Imagine a collaboration between the undersea Frank Lloyd Wright and the Aliens artist H. R. Giger, and then throw a ton of color at it. These buildings are magical. This makes the movie worth seeing even for people who may not be giant fans of fighting men in leotards.
Overall, Aquaman tells a good story without being memorable, other than the incredible color and detail of this complicated and nuanced world. Fans of super heroes will like it regardless, but this movie could be a good entry point to the DC universe for fans of good worldbuilding.
While many women may be less interested – the only two female characters were written by men and could have used a bit more depth – fans of action will likely love it. In fact, many less-uptight parents could become heroes themselves by allowing their preteen boys to see it, since it is sex-free and shows mostly CGI fighting without much blood or gore.
This summer, one of my best friends and I had an interesting idea. We were going to read Stephen King books together, but not just any SK books. We were going to tackle the Tower.
For those of you who don’t know, The Dark Tower’s story and characters arc through seven books, from the short and slightly hard to get into The Gunslinger, all the way through some FABULOUS adventures to the dark and climactic finale in book seven, The Dark Tower.
In fact, since King’s universe is so big and it encompasses more than just these 7 books, many people and websites claim there is a best order to read the series (with other books mixed in) to maximize the fun.
The summer is coming to an end, but our adventure continues.
What adventures are you taking these days?
Why not adventure with us?
What books might you read to explore? Who might journey in a group of your own and what worlds will be on your journey? There is nothing like adventure to change a person and see them through to something more…
HBO’s Vice News reported on the UK’s new Minister of Loneliness. Yes, loneliness. Not loveliness.
This is not a joke. During the segment, they quoted a startling statistic that, by one count, 14% of the nation’s people reported being “often lonely” or “lonely all the time.” Damn. And I have a guess that the number would be about as high in the United States. We’re a society of so much stuff that maybe it’s hard to discern what has lasting value. Like relationships. Or really, really good ice cream.
It made me immediately think of a haunting TED talk I watched recently that has stuck with me in the months since I’ve watched it. This TED talk is about addiction. And a bit about the shame around addiction. It is a fabulous and unique theory and it feels like a fresh voice in a loud room about this complicated topic.
I believe that in a way, this TED on addiction is speaking in the same general conversation as the conversation that launched the Ministry of Loneliness. It’s not that all lonely people are addicts, but that a lot of addicts may be intensely lonely or isolated. Not all. These are generalizations and guesses of course and they wouldn’t apply to everybody.
Here’s an idea that may be good in theory but difficult to carry out (please, somebody, deliver this message to Tracey Crouch, the Minister of Loneliness, and then maybe to some people experiencing addiction):
What if everyone belonged to at least one club? A club for eating chili or watching football or standing quietly in the woods or watching Star Wars and Star Trek and Dr. Who. What might that change? And what if you got a slight tax discount if these clubs happened to be diverse? What might that world look like?