Whoa.
Whoa...
Just watched the first episode of Dr. Who season 4.
Whoa.
Yeah. It's that good. I think you should start watching Dr. Who if you haven't yet. This might be the best show on TV right now.
Also, just saw Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day, and that's also really good. Some great storytelling, combined with original characterization and some nice surprises. Definitely one to see.
Also: Lost? It wasn't doing so hot for a while there, but I must admit catching up online all at once helped to put things together, and now I'm back into the swing of things.
And Supernatural last night--also quite hilarious.
And Ugly Betty--still pretty good.
Are we seeing a pattern here? I'm getting out of the house tomorrow.
Actually, getting out of the house and doing a bookstore event. If you're a teacher in the Seattle area (or anyone in the Seattle area interested in books), stop by the Northgate B&N tomorrow afternoon. Sasquatch Books will be there earlier in the afternoon, and I'll be there representing Mirrorstone from 2-4. Have a good weekend!
It's days like this that I miss living in Chicago, where they dye the river green in celebration. (Also, notice the white clock tower on the far left in the background? That's one tower of the Wrigley Building, which I used to work in. It's like stepping back in time in that building.
But last night my roommate and I watched Waking Ned Devine (me for the first time, she for the umpteenth time) and it was definitely a good substitute. Hilarious. I think all my favorite movies have quirky old men in them--for example, Return to Me is a favorite probably because of those funny old men.
So, let's talk about quirky characters in storytelling, especially in books for children and young adults. How can a quirky character, perhaps an older person like in the two movies I just linked, bring life to a story while still being a story about the child character?
I can think of two main examples which show what I'm trying to talk about--Holes and A Long Way from Chicago. Let's start with A Long Way from Chicago, by Richard Peck. This is actually one of my favorite books, and I'll tell you it has nothing to do with the narrator. A Long Way from Chicago is one of the best examples I can think of where the character you most connect to isn't a child. While the narrator Joey is a child, and the story is seen through his eyes (and in the sequel A Year Down Yonder, his sister Mary Alice's), Grandma Dowdel is the most interesting person and she's the cause of all their adventures.
In Holes, the story of Kissin' Kate, while not about an elderly person, is a story set in another time--and a story that is also integral to Stanley's journey, though we don't know how until much later in the story.
Waking Ned Divine doesn't really fit in this category of older people helping drive the story of the younger--Jackie is the instigator and main character all along--but it did make me think of how often in children's literature we focus on the child to the exclusion of older adults. It's important to get the kids away from the parents, for example, to help them have autonomy enough to do whatever the story requires. Don't get me wrong--I love this plot device, and I know that kids love it. But I do think that there's a place for amazing stories that include older people and people of previous generations, and that those two books are perfect examples of how that can be done while preserving a narrator that the child reader will identify with.
You have to admit: Grandma Dowdle rocks. That's one hilarious story, and not just because she reminds me of both my grandmas and my great-grandma, with a shotgun thrown in.
It's Tim, but with a brother and a shotgun, killing demons and banishing evil spirits. :)
Really, the reason why I keep watching? It's not just Jensen Ackles (Dean), who I loved in Dark Angel, nor is it just Jared Padaleki (Sam), who is cute too, and plays a smart, sweet, good guy. What really gets me is the relationship between the brothers. They go through this huge adversity--beginning with the death of their mother when Sam, the younger brother, is six months old--and live through it, and as they hunt for the demon that did this to their family, you can see their bond as brothers grow. Through some really horrible things, a lot of people's lives are touched, they save so many people, and their family bond becomes tighter too. I think there's some really great metaphor in that.
And just in general the writing is great. Character development, dialogue, little SFF references (Dean knows pretty much every scifi/fantasy pop culture reference to be known)--they move the plot forward and these things matter in the course of the overall story. They have the monster-of-the-week stories, sure. It's actually a very Buffy kind of model--monster of the week balanced against overall season arch with an overall series arch in mind. I'm not sure if that's planned, but in watching two seasons over the course of a couple months, that's the sense I'm getting.
Anyone else a fan?
And even if you're not into fantasy, Harry is well worth watching. It's urban fantasy ala Charles de Lint and Holly Black, with of course its own twists. One reason I love it is the setting: I lived in Chicago for 2 years and I'm an Illinois native, so Chicago is close to my heart. It's a great setting for an urban fantasy and much different from a New York or other East Coast setting (which also are interesting, just very different in culture and setting).
Well, I didn't get quite a chapter finished because we also had our landlord pop over for some maintenance stuff, but I read enough that I wanted to share with you snippets from the first pages to show you what I mean by a good beginning, in answer finally to
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nomoretwaddle's question from last week.First, here's the first three paragraphs:
I heard the mailman approach my office door, half an hour earlier than usual. He didn’t sound right. His footsteps fell more heavily, jauntily, and he whistled. A new guy. He whistled his way to my office door, then fell silent for a moment. Then he laughed.Then he knocked.I winced. My mail comes through the mail slot unless it’s registered. I get a really limited selection of registered mail, and it’s never good news. I got up out of my office chair and opened the door.
Now, had I read that without having any blurbs, having any idea what the story was about, would I have kept reading? Yes. Why?
Because I want to know why the mailman laughed. And I wanted to know why the first person narrator winced. I still don't have any idea (from the context) that this is a fantasy story. It could be the start of a sports story, or a chick lit novel. But the first three paragraphs have set up a situation where something is happening, and the interaction between the two characters is being set up. And Butcher then delivers in the next part of the first page, telling you exactly why you'll want to read this story.
Because I want to know why the mailman laughed. And I wanted to know why the first person narrator winced. I still don't have any idea (from the context) that this is a fantasy story. It could be the start of a sports story, or a chick lit novel. But the first three paragraphs have set up a situation where something is happening, and the interaction between the two characters is being set up. And Butcher then delivers in the next part of the first page, telling you exactly why you'll want to read this story.
The new mailman, who looked like a basketball with arms and legs and a sunburned, balding head, was chuckling at the sign on the door glass. He glanced a me and hooked a thumb toward the sign. “You’re kidding, right?”
I read the sign (people change it occasionally), and shook my head. "No, I'm serious. Can I have my mail, please."
The exchange between the two characters, which is too long for me to share here, then is a clever repartee between the first person narrator--which of course we know is Harry, but coming to this cold you wouldn't yet--and the mailman about how Harry really is serious--he's not a psychic, he doesn't do parties, etc. It culminates in Harry confirming the sign on his door ("Harry Dresden, Wizard") is real, and the mailman calling him a nut.
Then, and only then, does the author do the cliche "my name is" introduction--but he tweaks it so that it's no longer cliche, and notice that he didn't open with it.
Then, and only then, does the author do the cliche "my name is" introduction--but he tweaks it so that it's no longer cliche, and notice that he didn't open with it.
My name is Harry Blackstone Copperfield Dresden. Conjure by it at your own risk. I’m a wizard. I work out of an office in midtown Chicago. As far as I know, I’m the only openly practicing professional wizard in the country. You can find me in the yellow pages, under “Wizards.” Believe it or not, I’m the only one there.
(And then he shows the ad.) Aside: The TV show uses this bit, too, but also only after establishing what kind of show you're going to see, opening with a scene of Harry seeing a monster in his closet as a kid. (Watch the show! It's not only a great example of storytelling but also just plain fun to watch!)
So, here's an example of an author using a cliche to his advantage, and making it his own. One part of how he makes it his own is by setting up a scene where something interesting happens. There's a bit of mystery to the scene, even if it isn't a big explosion or somebody dying. So that's what I mean by action--and that action could be a big explosion or somebody dying, but this kind of action I'm talking about is something that shows me something about the characters. Something that makes me like them, empathize with them, want to know more about them. It could be any number of situations, but whatever it is, it has to keep moving and keep me interested.
So I hope that helps illustrate what I was talking about in that earlier post about boggy beginnings.
So, here's an example of an author using a cliche to his advantage, and making it his own. One part of how he makes it his own is by setting up a scene where something interesting happens. There's a bit of mystery to the scene, even if it isn't a big explosion or somebody dying. So that's what I mean by action--and that action could be a big explosion or somebody dying, but this kind of action I'm talking about is something that shows me something about the characters. Something that makes me like them, empathize with them, want to know more about them. It could be any number of situations, but whatever it is, it has to keep moving and keep me interested.
So I hope that helps illustrate what I was talking about in that earlier post about boggy beginnings.
The idea, if you didn't know, is that Harold Crick wakes up one morning to hear Emma Thompson's voice narrating his life. He's an IRS agent, and his life is extremely boring--lives alone, no friends, counts his brushstrokes when brushing his teeth, etc. A few days after he starts hearing the narrator, she says, "Little did he know, [something something about an event] would lead to his imminent death."
There is so much meta-fictional stuff here that my Victorian children's lit teacher in grad school would have had a heyday with. Then again, it would be interesting to compare this movie to Veronica Mars's narration, as well. What an interesting twist on the breaking of the narrator-reader wall. "Slippage" was my Victorian teacher's favorite term, and what slippage was here! But it wasn't the usual kind, the kind that breaks the wall between the reality of the book and the reality of the reader, which was so prevalent in Victorian children's lit. Instead, it broke the boundaries between the narrator and the character, in a very obvious way (a way another friend terms "pretentious," saying that the movie was too self-aware, yet I think was that way on purpose).
Anyway, great movie. Funny and original. Highly recommend it for the lit geek and non-lit geek alike.
- Mood:
chipper
Despite that, the season premiere of LOST did get me excited for the season. However, I might just let the next few episodes pile up on my Tivo before watching, so I can have the instant gratification of being able to go to the next episode right away. Delayed gratification for instant gratification.
And I just have to say: I love Jericho!
you can tell that this is being written by a YA author in some spots (thanks to the YALSA listserv, I know that one writer on the show is the author of The Perks of Being a Wallflower, Stephen Chbosky).
****SPOILER ALERT**** I especially love the nerdy teen character, whose name I'm forgetting already, whose mom died in Atlanta and who works at the local grocery store. When he hears that Jericho needs food and that the owner, a middle-aged woman whose name I also forget, didn't get her weekly train shipment due to the nuclear bombs, at the end of this last episode you see the kid out in the middle of nowhere, investigating a train wrecked with a car. He opens one of the train cars and the last image is of all that food, the food intended for the grocery store's weekly shipment. What a good kid.
So I watch a lot of TV in the evenings. For one, with being sick so much recently, it's much easier to watch TV to entertain myself when I can't go outside and do something for lack of enough balance or energy and I can't read for the migraine I have. There's only so much staring at the wall one can do. For another thing, I got DirecTV when I moved into this apartment, and I feel a financial obligation to make it worth the money I'm paying for it. It's my entertainment budget for the month, so dang it, TV, entertain me!
Seeing as how this is the beginning of the fall season for a lot of shows, I've been watching all sorts of new stories. How they begin actually tells you a lot about storytelling, I think. Heroes, for example, starts entirely too slowly, and in a book, the writer would have lost me by now, despite the intriguing characters. Okay, perhaps not lost me, but I'd certainly have said to find a way to introduce the main conflict of the story more quickly. I must say, though, that the little vignettes in that show do a great job of starting each character's story with action, especially the cheerleader.
But that's just one show. Here are all the new shows I've been watching, and some not-so-new.
The shows that are standing out to me this fall
Eureka On the Sci-Fi channel, and totally worth finding. It's like Northern Exposure or the Gilmore Girls, with its fast-talking quirky characters--but in a small town full of entirely science and technology nerds. My favorite show of the year. And the "season" is almost over already!! It couldn't have been more than six episodes. I hope they come back with more soon.
Jericho which I'm watching right now. Love it. Though I still will always think of Gerald McRaney as a 30-something detective with a cowboy hat permanently attached to his head. I'm on the edge of my seat and I want to know what happens next NOW!
Heroes Interesting concept, but the first episode was all setup and barely any story. Give me story, people! But the characters are intriguing, so we'll see where it goes. Like I said above, it does a good job in some areas, not so good in others. I'm willing to give it a few more episodes.
Vanished Only so-so, but for some reason I keep watching. It feels like it should be finishing up already after only 3 or 4 episodes, because I feel like they've already revealed all the secrets that would be within the realm of possibility.
Bones 2nd season, but just as fun. I really love David Boreanaz, just as much or more as when he was Angel (which I only watched all of this summer on DVD).
Shows I'm finally getting to watch from the beginning that I've been watching despite not quite knowing what was going on
Avatar: The Last Airbender--about the best show on TV, for all ages. SO fun! Great storytelling, funny and dramatic at the same time. Totally worth owning on DVD, which is my plan when I have an extra $40 in my budget. Until then, I'm DVRing it on Nickelodeon. It's currently in its 2nd season.
New shows I'm not impressed with:
Men in Trees This looked like it'd be a quirky, fun show like Northern Exposure--set in a small Alaska town, but from the perspective of a woman. But it's only okay. I've continued to watch it because I have hope for it yet, but I'm far more impressed already with Eureka.
fjm posted a great visual explanation of how to use a circle to plot. She talks about how in crime fiction, you have two stories going on at once, really--the detective solving the crime, and the story of how the crime happened.To illustrate it to students, she explains:
Draw a circle open at the top. The end on the right label Beginning, the end on the left lable End.
Plot your *crime* around the circle.
[...]Plot your *investigation* from where your investigator comes in. If we're talking a dead body here, then it may be at End, the body on the carpet. From there, take the line over to an event on the other side of the circle. Then over to another arbitrary event, repeat until you've covered two thirds of the points you put around the circle.
You now have
a) a non linear investigation which uncovers the evidence in an order different to the actual events of the crime.
b) you've left enough "untold" information to make your detective look smart.
I really like this. I think it can apply to any story in which a mystery occurs, true crime or fantasy. I think I'm going to start sharing this with authors whose plots include mystery.
All the while, my cat knocks over boxes in the other room, and I think he's going to kill himself one of these days.
But back to the drama of being twelve. The documentary is actually a good introduction to the social hierarchies of twelve-year-olds, laying it out in concise vignettes of what it's like to be popular, a jock, normal, slightly lower than normal, and on through to the bottom rung. For anyone who lived through junior high, you'll probably cringe to watch it but nod all the same.
I haven't gotten beyond the first scene of the Musketeers movie, because I had to pause it to rescue the cat (I heart DVR/Tivo/whatever you call it). But the opening scene hasn't impressed me so far. I think my radar for openings has really fine-tuned since my first days as a slush reader. If I'm not hooked right away, I'm bored. However, hooks for me in movies are different than I might expect of books--see: my passion for the BBC production of Persuasion, for which I think I've only met five people in the world who love it as much as I. Anyone else who has seen it tells me it was too boring to get through. I doubt in a book I'd be as hooked by men rowing an admiral to his ship to say the war is over or a middle-aged baronet being told he must retrench. I think it's the Chopin soundtrack that does it, really.
That's what I *should* be watching right now. I've just inspired myself.
- Mood:
nerdy
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