My First Experience with Peer Editing in Creative Writing Class February 5, 2010

Okay, I have officially had twenty strangers read a creative non-fiction (CNF) piece that I have written.  That assignment was a little of a double whammy for those of us who are nervous about sharing our writings for the first time.  Not only do I have to subject my writing skills to strangers’ scrutiny, people who may not be interested in not hurting my feelings, but I have to share something personal about myself: something I’ve lived or witnessed and how that something had affected me.  On the whole, everyone seemed to like the story.  I received many compliments on the story itself and a few remarks noting that the reader actually liked my writing skills.  Most of the negative critiques (and by this I mean the remarks that noted my mistakes) focused on how to improve the writing.  Some of the critiquers must not have had experience editing someone else’s work before now; those people left very few editing remarks and almost nothing, if anything, in the way of suggestions on how to improve.  There was one person who pulled out those foreign grammar words that no one knows: present indicative, past progressive, and other such gibberish.  I looked at those words and felt my stomach drop.  I have NO idea how to fix THAT problem – I wanted to yell at the paper, “Just give me the proper word.”  Luckily, I was in another class and was surrounded by people.  I don’t deliberately make a fool of myself in front of others; I do it by mistake often enough.  Even the negative critiques complimented the overall writing ability and story.

I understand that the compliments may be empty words, but I take heart at the words anyway.  I received enough positive and negative critiques that it all balanced out – which is all I can really hope for at this time.  Part of becoming a successful writer is knowing that you can not please everyone all the time.  I plan on teaching high school English; there are bound to be more than a few students who will not like the reading assignment.  Despite the number of students that don’t like a particular piece, the literature list hasn’t changed much in the last fifty years, except to add more on.

The overall lesson to take away from this experience: I don’t have to be afraid.

Adaptation of Importance of being Earnest February 3, 2010

Abstract: This analysis focuses only on the first act of the play.  However, the 2002 movie adaptation rearranged the play creating different scenes from the first and second act.  I do not discuss the second act of the play, but do discuss the implications of the second act appearing in the midst of the first act.  This was created from my own analysis and never researched for supporting argumentation from the “experts.”

While discussing film adaptations of the play The Importance of Being Earnest it is important to keep in mind the original play.  The introductions of characters, the stage directions, the lines are all important pieces of a greater whole, when these pieces are changed, rearranged or omitted in adaptations it is because of the director’s vision of the story to be told in the film. In the 2002 adaptation directed by Oliver Parker, many changes have been made to illustrate the director’s vision of the play.

The first change from the play to the big screen is the introduction of Algernon.  The film begins with a black screen and music with a quick tempo.  The audience hearing score music playing before the audience sees Algernon mirrors the play’s opening scene.  The stage directions set the scene with the sound of a piano coming from a connected room off-stage.  A brief few moments is the only similarity, however, as the audience is introduced to Algernon running away from men in a darkened ally.  The quick, fun tempo reflects Algernon hurry while at the same time letting the audience knows that this chase is not one of danger; Algernon is pegged as a likable rogue.  The music becomes a part of the movie as the scene cuts from the chase to Algernon playing the piano.  The introduction of Algernon in this way is Parker’s attempt to give the audience an insight into the character of Algernon.

The director also shows the audience an insight into Jack’s character before entrance in the play.  Jack leads a double life: one in the country, where he is known as Jack, and one in the city, where he is known as Earnest.  The audience sees Jack leaving his home in the country complaining of his brother Earnest.  The audience is given a glimpse of Jack opening his suitcase with a smile on his face.  The audience then sees Jack has taken on his Earnest persona with a change of clothes.

In order to give the audience the different viewpoints of Algernon and Jack, the director must rearrange the scenery.  In the play, the action of the entire first act occurs within the breakfast room at Algernon’s home.  In the movie there are nine or ten different shot locations before the film reaches the end of the first act.  Some of the locations are part of act one while others are from act two of the play.  The splicing and rearranging of the acts allow for the director to introduce Cecily, Miss Prism, and Dr. Chasuble earlier in the story and thereby creating an elongation of suspense to the Algernon and Jack story line.  The splicing also allows for contrast of the male character Algernon, who speaks against romance and family, against the female character Cecily, who in the movie is a hopeless romantic losing herself in daydreams of knights in shining armor coming to rescue her.  Gwendolen’s introduction is made in this rearrangement.  The audience is given a visual introduction of Aunt Augusta and Gwendolen practicing archery.  Gwendolen pulls the string taunt and releases the arrow.  The shot cuts to Jack who mimes being shot in the heart.  Because the two shots are next to one another the audience can make two deductions about the film.  The first is that cupid’s arrow has struck Jack.  The second follows more closer with Algernon’s non-romantic train of thought, that the woman is hunting the man for marriage reasons.

The film version is faithful to the script, but the director’s vision comes alive with editing and visual stimulus that can not be captured by merely reading the play.  The director adds visual scenes that are not a part of the play but that can easily be imagined to be a part of Wilde’s original play.

The Relationship of Enid and Becky in the Film and Graphic Novel “Ghost World” January 29, 2010

Abstract: This is a comparison of the relationship of Enid and Becky in the film and graphic novel of Ghost World.  This was my first experience comparing film to literature and so the film descriptions are less of an analysis and more of mere description.  This was my own work and never researched for supporting arguments.  I look at several scenes from both the movie and graphic novel and compare how the relationship of the girls change over the story line.  While both story lines have the girls grow up and apart after they graduate from high school, the film and movie take different approaches.  The film focuses on former oddball Becky trying to mainstream into the real world, while Enid desperately tries to find her place in the real world while not changing who she was in high school.  In the graphic novel, Enid is trying to discover who she is, but she feels hindered by Becky, who is the one who doesn’t wish for her high school days to change.

Ghost World is a story of two girls, Enid and Becky, who face the challenges of growing up while still trying to hang on to the past.  While the graphic novel, written by Daniel Clowes represents Enid as the dominant personality, the movie adaptation directed by Terry Zwigoff places the girls on equal footing in the relationship.  In the graphic novel, Enid dictates the conversation and makes the decision of what they are going to do, even if Becky does not express interest in the activity.  In the movie, Becky has, if not equal, at least more so of a say in what they do.  The differences in the relationship structure changes the dynamic of the girls relationship, so that the movie presents the girls slowly drifting away, while the graphic novel presents a quick ending after a long, and one-sided, friendship.

The graphic novel opens with two separate pictures of Becky and Enid; one of the girls, possibly around the age of ten, standing side by side at a grave, and one that depicts the girls in cap and gowns with Enid raising her middle finger.  With these two quick snapshots located on the index page, the reader understands before the novel has begun the relationship of these two girls has already existed for a long time. The graphic novel opens with the girls watching t.v. together.  Enid tells Becky about two people that she swears are Satanists.  When Becky is portrayed during this scene she is watching the television, and while she does respond with appropriate responses, she is not engaged in the conversation.  Enid proclaims that they “have to follow them someday” (14).  Becky in obviously not enthused by this prospect but relents when Enid gives her a hard time.  Zwigoff changes the scene so the girls are together when Enid sees the Satanists.

The Satanist scene opens with Enid sitting in the diner sketching the Satanists in her sketchbook; she is so engrossed in drawing the man and woman that she does not respond when Becky sits down, Becky has to speak to get her attention.  This diner scene begins the divergence of Enid and Becky’s paths in the movie.

Becky asks about the time frame of looking for an apartment, but Enid casually blows Becky off making an excuse about her summer school.  Becky notes that “it’s so weird that [they’re] finally out of high school.”  Enid looks slightly uncomfortable at Becky’s sentiment, she shifts both her body and her eyes, but she responds with a non-committed “yeah, it really hasn’t hit me yet.”  While Becky is excited about the prospect of moving forward, Enid is still hanging on to the past.  When the Satanists leave, Enid excitedly proclaims they should to follow them, and Becky responds excitedly with a “totally have to.”  Becky is not the passive follower from the novel, she is an active participant in Enid’s ideas.

As the girls follow the Satanists the scene in the movie shifts to a scene that happens much later in the graphic novel.  Instead of Enid dragging Becky across town on a city bus to an unknown destination, the girls stumble across the new 50’s diner.  The dynamic of the relationship is again changed by this simple shifting of scenes.  Enid has not dragged an unenthusiastic, but willing, Becky across town.  Zwigoff changed very little about the actual scene from the book.  The conversation is condensed to focus on the search of the personal ads, which is still Becky’s idea, as is her follow up suggestion of calling the man from the ad.  By Zwigoff placing Becky’s suggestion at the beginning of the movie, instead of the middle, he is placing Becky on equal footing with Enid.  In the novel, Becky’s suggestion to check the personal ads, and then to call the man in the ad, is contrasted against a prank call that Enid had made earlier.  By having Becky make the suggestion in the middle of his novel, Clowes has already enforced Enid as the dominant figure.  Becky making a suggestion for an activity for them to do represents a break in their relationship.

An obvious strain in the movie relationship is when Enid shows up at Becky’s work wearing the latex mask from an adult novelty shop.  In the graphic novel, Enid calls Becky on the phone to tell her about going to the novelty shop.  Zwigoff has changed this scene from the girls talking about Enid’s loss of virginity to Becky pushing Enid about getting a job.  Becky’s shift away from high school is picking up speed, while Enid is still clinging to what she knows.  Becky tells Enid “You’ll see, you get totally tired of all the creeps, and losers, and weirdos.”  Enid’s face conveys a sense of shock at Becky’s changing attitude.  With her “you’ll see” Becky displays her feelings of being more experienced than Enid.  When Becky shifts the conversation to Enid finding a job, Enid looks down and begins to blow off the importance that Becky attaches to the idea.  Becky looks exasperated, but all she responds with is her disbelief that Enid went to the novelty shop without her.  The strain is felt by both girls, but neither is ready for the final break.

The final break happens in the novel and in the book while discussing living together.  The discussion of Becky and Enid living together in the novel takes place over two pages.  Becky is feeling the potential loss of Enid’s friendship if Enid goes away to college.  Becky suggests that she could follow Enid to Strathmore, not to attend college but merely to live with Enid, but Enid does not want Becky to come.  Becky is the one that does not want anything to change, she is frightened of her life being different, but Enid wants to change, she wants to forget who she’s been up until this point, and to Enid, Becky represents what Enid wants to forget.  After this discussion, the relationship doesn’t exist anymore.  Becky and Enid talk one last time, but the conversation is of two acquaintances rather than of two best friends.  In the movie, the discussion is an actual fight between the friends.  Enid accuses Becky of “still living out some seventh grade fantasy.”  Becky retorts that Enid will be living with her dad for the rest of her life.  Becky is ready to embrace the grown-up world and Enid just wants things to stay the way they are.  As with the novel, there is another meeting of the girls.  Becky has taken charge of her own life and has begun to move herself into an apartment.  Enid while saying she’s going to be bringing her stuff later, still appears to be uncertain about the change.  Enid never shows back up with her stuff.

The goodbye between the girls takes place in different ways in the movie.  In the novel, Enid watches Becky through a glass window and says “You’ve grown into a very beautiful young woman” (80).  Those words are the only ones on the page.  This silence of Enid’s is juxtaposed against almost an entire novel of Enid talking, this silence is the end.  These few words represent Enid’s realization that not only is everything changing, everything already has changed.  They aren’t little girls anymore, and it’s time to live as adults.  This is the first real compliment she has paid to Becky.  Enid has realized that the dynamic of their relationship has changed, Becky no longer needs Enid.  The final boxes show Enid getting on the bus and leaving town, on her journey to finding herself.  In the movie, the final goodbye is a reworking of a scene from the book.  The girls sit on the bus-stop bench holding hands.  In the book the bench represents several changes: the Satanists have apparently separated and Norman is no longer there due to the bus-stop being re-activated.  In the movie the bench is not Norman’s bench, but it still represents the final change for the girls.  They sit quietly, holding hands.  Becky looks sadly at Enid and asks, “What are you going to do now?”  Enid does not know, but Becky is not included in her unknown plans.  Becky leaves to go to work, representing the different shift in the girls’ maturity and the girls shift away from one another.  As Becky and Enid hold hands they look at one another with concern.  This goodbye is a sad one for both of them.  Becky stands and gently rubs the top of Enid’s hand with her thumb.  The simple gesture is often seen between people who care for one another, it is both stimulates the nerve endings on the hand as well as comforts the recipient of the gesture.  It represents their kiss goodbye.  They drop their hands simultaneously, neither one pulling away from the other, while at the same time, it is Becky who walks out of the shot.

In both versions of Ghost World, the ending of the friendship is hard for both girls.  In the movie, Becky and Enid are two strong girls who drift apart as Becky continues to grow.  The novel depicts Becky as a needy accessory to Enid’s life.  In the novel it is Enid who is ready to move on, and the separation comes as Becky realizes she is no longer wanted.  Within the scope of the movie, the girls were allowed to grow and drift apart rather than an abrupt change coming from an identity crisis that Enid is facing in the book.  This growth is allowed by the shift in Becky’s role in her relationship with Enid.

Is it fate or REALLY lucky planning on my part? January 25, 2010

My purpose in college is to eventually become a college literature professor with my very own PhD.  I decided to start small and begin my teaching career as a teacher.  Sounds like a common sense decision, but the difference between understanding literature and teaching literature seems to have missed many college professors.  Only my education teachers have ever had teacher training before teaching in college.  An argument for those of you in college: How many of you have ever read a test question and said to yourself, “that’s not a fair/valid question?”  It’s most likely due to the fact that the poor college professor never really learned how to write a test question.  Think about it for a bit.

Anyway, I am currently an undergrad for high school English.  I will learn both my subject matter and how to teach that subject matter.  Yay.  I have already decided that I will not flinch from using t.v. or film in my classroom to help students understand a piece of literature.  I decided this for multiple reasons.  First; a t.v. show or film is nothing more than a story told in a visual way, rather than with text.  (For all of you purists, please think about theatre for a moment.)  I can teach many of the same story telling techniques (foreshadowing, dramatic irony, character/plot development, etc) and the students may actually understand.  Second; if a student is busy talking about a t.v. show or movie he/she saw over the weekend then I am simply combining business and pleasure.  Why waste valuable time trying to stop them from talking about something they WANT to talk about and use it to teach them something.  Third; seeing the story told from a different perspective will add depth to the work the class is studying.  It’s like a student voicing his/her own interpretation of a work.  Multiple opinions usually make for good (and bad) dialogue.   Fourth, but not last; who doesn’t like to watch t.v. or film?

I should qualify all of the above with this:  I do NOT intend for the students to watch Jerry Springer or some reality show.  I plan to study any t.v. show or film for literary value.  I also plan to use adaptations more than original screen plays.  While there can exist literary merit in any (although not all) film, I plan to incorporate the films with works that the students are reading.

Now, for all my blabbering, what is the purpose of my post title?  Simply this.  With my above plan already in my head, I chose to take Film and Lit for my required film class last semester.  Film and Lit was exactly as it sounds  - we read books and watched movies.  We studied the adaptation process more than we studied the text, but I LOVED the course.  It helped me see the many layers of film and how film can support an idea I had about a novel or change an idea completely.  In conjunction with that class I took Shakespeare for teachers.  My professor emphasized the importance of watching the plays and supported us when we went outside the typical theater domain.  (Sidenote: watch Shakespeare Retold:Macbeth – such a good adaptation – I will post my paper on it soon.)  This semester I needed an extra course just to fill in my credit hours.  I choose a drama course because of the teacher.  I took a poetry class with her and really liked her.  She also is pushing watching the plays, both in theater and film.  We have three papers to write that focus on the adaptation of the play.  I walked out of class the other day with a smile on my face.  The assignment is one that I’m not only familiar with, but hope to use in my own classes!  The luck part of my blog title is that next semester is my professional semester.  I will be teaching this fall.  For me to have chosen these three classes so close to my professional semester makes me think that I’ll really be able to do it; to use film adaptation to help teach a work of literature.  Maybe, it’s meant to be.  Maybe it was just lucky planning.  Whatever it is, I fully believe that this is one of my talents that I am meant to share with others.

Creative Writing Class AKA my chance to face a fear January 25, 2010

If you know me, you know that I really despise being the center of attention.  The size of the audience staring does not matter, it’s the simple fact of being the focus of scrutinizing attention.  I am sure that I am my biggest critic.  I tell myself over and over again not to worry about what other people think, but it is more of what I place inside their minds that worries me.

For all of this fear I have enrolled in a creative writing class.  I have no false hopes that this class will transform me into a prize-winning author.  My single goal to gain out of this class is to release some of the afore mentioned fear.  I will have to share at least three works (two short prose and one poetry), as well as any writing exercise we have in class, with a class of 21 people (including the professor).  I have, like some masochist, volunteered to be the first to have my work read.  The upside – the nerves won’t have long enough to set up shop before it’s my turn.  The downside – I will have no one to buffer my work.  I will set the precedent for everyone else’s work.  No, I’m not putting any pressure on myself at all.  I try to be optimistic, if it’s awful work, I can get better, if it’s great, I can only get better.  However, I float somewhere between realism and pessimism.  I know I am not an award-winning author, but I don’t ever really see myself becoming one either.  But!

That is why I must take this class.  I’m afraid of others reading my work.  I’m afraid of letting go of something that is so personal.  Even if my work does not reflect my personal opinions on some matter, it is me on the page (or rather, computer screen) that is laid (or is it lain) bare for everyone to see.  I must conquer my fear.  I will triumph.  I will no longer be secretly proud of my work.  I will share everything and hope to only get better.

With that in mind; here is a writing exercise we did in class the other day.  The instructions were to describe a person without using generalized adjectives; i.e. short, pretty, thin, etc.

He has blond hair that falls into his bright blue eyes.  His cheeks are still round with youth.  His new front teeth are large, both wide and long, but seem to fit in his mouth.  He has a slight scar on his nose from a dog’s scratch years before.  His fingernails are jagged from picking up rocks and sticks, climbing in tress.   His pants are held up by a belt but fall just short above his overly stressed tennis shoes.

TA-DAH!!  youmakemehappy

Marla Singer’s Role in “Fight Club” December 13, 2009

Abstract:

This post is a paper that I wrote for a college film and lit class.  I did a close reading/viewing analysis of the movie and the film Fight Club.  I explore the role of Marla Singer as an object of desire and destruction in Narrator’s life.  I analyze the editing of the film chapter “Jack’s Nice Neat Flaming Shit” as evidence of Marla being directly linked and responsible for the destruction of Narrator’s apartment.  I also look at the film chapter “Chemical Burn.”  In this film chapter, the film director, David Fincher replaces Narrator’s memories of his first act of rebellion with visions of Marla.  I also provide a behavior analysis of Narrator as Marla walks away from in two separate scenes.  I look at Chuck Palahniuk’s connection between Marla and Tyler, and Marla’s role as a precursor to Project Mayhem and the Space Monkeys.  The following paper was created from my personal interpretations and was never researched for backing support.

Marla’s Role in Fight Club:

Fight Club, the novel and the movie adaptation, explores the concept of regaining a masculine identity through self-destruction.  The sole central female character is Marla Singer.  Marla’s presence in Chuck Palahniuk’s novel predominates over her presence in David Fincher’s movie.  Each version explores Marla role through the relationship triangle of the narrator, Marla, and Tyler as they discover what it means to hit bottom.  In both the film and movie versions of Fight Club, Marla, acting as a catalyst for the invention of Tyler,  is both an object of desire and destruction.

The narrator, who will simply be called Narrator, has become trapped inside the definition of success that the consumerist society has formulated for him.  In both versions, Narrator explains that he has “become a slave to the Ikea nesting instinct” (Fincher, 4:48).  His job has become a routine that is defined only by his location, rather than the actual job description: “You wake up at O’Hare.  You wake up at LaGuardia.  You wake up at Logan” (Palahniuk 25).  The monotony of the gaining or losing of time drains him physically and emotionally.  He has become a hollow shell, suffering from insomnia, experiencing life from “far away, a copy of a copy of a copy.  The insomnia distance of everything, you can’t touch anything and nothing can touch you” (Palahniuk 21).  Narrator cannot escape from this bleak existence because it is the role that was defined for him to live.  He is a living model for a successful young businessman.  Narrator does not want to be trapped by this success, he tells Marla that “I hated my life. I was tired and bored with my job and my furniture, and I couldn’t see any way to change things.  Only end them.  I felt trapped.  I was too complete.  I was too perfect.  I wanted a way out of my tiny life” (Palahniuk 172-173).  Even though the narrator wants everything to end, he does not have the courage to allow himself to let go of everything.  Narrator is attracted to Marla because she is “trying to reach bottom” (Fincher 1:00:00), but he is also angry with her because she “reflects my lie” (Palahniuk 23).  Attending the support groups, pretending to be dying, pretending to be letting all the material concerns go was his lie.  Marla gets in the way of Narrator’s escape and thus becomes a catalyst for his self-destruction.

Marla’s link to destruction in Fincher’s movie can be explored through the editing of the movie chapter “Jack’s Nice Neat Flaming Shit.”  At 26:56 the audience sees from Narrator’s POV Marla’s number on a singed piece of paper.  As Narrator contemplates the number he looks up and smirks.  At this point the VO begins to explain the destruction of his apartment.  The film jumps from Narrator walking to a phone booth to a visualization of the VO.  The sound of the first two segments of the apartment contain only the score music and the VO.  As Narrator begins to dial Marla’s number the scene jumps back to the apartment and the sound of the number keys and the subsequent ringing can now be heard.  As Narrator explains that: “Then the refrigerator’s compressor could have kicked on” (27:24), the explosion does not occur, the scene jumps back to Narrator as he hears Marla answer the phone.  He opens his mouth and then quickly shuts it again.  For a brief moment, Narrator has a look of nervous realization.  At Marla’s simple “yeah” the apartment explodes.  By blending the two scenes Marla is not only linked to the destruction, but appears to cause the explosion.

Fincher added Marla to this scene.  In the novel Narrator only calls Tyler.  Palahniuk uses this scene to create the Litany of Tyler Durden.  “Oh, Tyler, please deliver me. … Oh, Tyler, please rescue me. … Deliver me from Swedish furniture.  Deliver me from clever art. … May I never be complete.  May I never be content.  Deliver me, Tyler, from being perfect and complete” (46).  The novel has Narrator turning to Tyler as a role mole of self-destruction, the guide to hitting bottom.  In refocusing the scene on Marla instead of Tyler, Fincher emphasizes the role of Marla as both desire and destruction.

Another scene in which Fincher adds Marla is the film chapter “Chemical Burn.”  Tyler is teaching Narrator how to make soap.  Stripped of the homoeroticism element in the novel, Fincher focuses on the self-destructive goal the burn symbolizes.  Narrator tries to use guided mediation to escape the pain that he feels.  When Narrator goes into his cave, a shot of Narrator staring down at Marla lasts for less than a second.  The shot is a close up of Narrator, who wears a look of determined confidence.  There is also a quick shot of Marla turning her head to look up at Narrator.  Tyler interrupts Narrator’s attempt to escape the pain.  Tyler is forcing Narrator to take “one step closer to hitting bottom” (1:04:23).  Narrator tries to focus one more time on his power animal.  The audience sees Narrator’s hand on Marla’s leg.  Marla is lying down, and Narrator is standing over her.  As he rubs his hand down her leg, his hand falls below the jacket or blanket that is covering her.  His hand rests on her hip region as he leans down over Marla.  As she turns her head toward him, he brings his head further toward her, as if to kiss her.  This is the first moment in the film that Narrator has allowed himself to give into his desire for her.

This desire is marred however by the surrounding destruction.  As Narrator leans down to kiss Marla, she opens her mouth and exhales a quantity of smoke.  Narrator chokes on the smoke and a vision of fire accompanied by a small explosion of sound that represent the pain Narrator is feeling.  Tyler slaps Narrator across the face exclaiming, “This is the greatest moment of your life man, and you’re off somewhere missing it” (1:03:04).  This cave scene is not present in the novel, instead Narrator uses guided mediation to remember his first act of rebellion.  Fincher does not use Marla as a source of destruction but rather as a source of desire.  Marla is still connected with the destruction because it is only when Narrator is encountering destruction, facing his greatest fears and pain, that he is strong enough to be with Marla.

The novel does not make a connection between Marla and Narrator in regards to self-destruction, rather Palahniuk focuses the tendencies of self-destruction on Marla and Tyler.  Marla in essence becomes the first Space Monkey.  Narrator comes down into the kitchen and finds Marla “burning the inside of her arm with a clove cigarette and calling herself human butt wipe.  ‘I embrace my own festering diseased corruption’” (65).  Tyler sports matching cigarette burns on his arms.  These burns are a precursor to Tyler’s kiss that everyone will be wearing by the end of the novel, including Marla.  Her words introduce some of the same speeches that the Space Monkeys will be quoting: “I am the shit and infectious human waste of creation” (170).  This self-destructive behavior is not displayed in the film in order to refocus the audience’s attention on the desire Narrator has for Marla.

In the film, discovery of Marla as desire becomes evident after doing a behavior analysis of Narrator in scenes that show Marla leaving.  The first leaving incident occurs in the film chapter “Marla.”  Narrator tries to exude a dislike toward Marla, in telling her goodbye he states, “Well, let’s not make a big thing out of it, okay” (18:25).  Marla walks away without a second thought.  The camera rests on Narrator as the audience hears Marla’s retreating steps and the jingle of the door opening.  While Narrator watches her leave, we see his facial expressions and body movements.  Narrator is facing an inner struggle; one moment his face his hard, the next moment  his body shifts as he inhales as if to speak.  He is not supposed to like her, yet he clearly wants to speak to her.  The desire wins over the displeasure and he runs after her, suggesting that they switch numbers.  This exchanging of numbers is an indication that he desires further contact with her.  This interaction is never seen in the novel.  The reader is aware that they had to exchange numbers, but the reader is never given that scene.  Without this scene in the book, Palahniuk is distancing Narrator from Marla, allowing the final realization of love to surprise Narrator.

Another film scene of facial expressions giving away the true emotions of Narrator occurs at 59:41.  At Tyler’s behest, Narrator has kicked Marla out of the Paper Street house.  Narrator assumes an unfriendly demeanor and wears a stern, hard expression.  As Marla walks away, the camera switches to Narrator, his head tilts to see her better, the hard squint of his eyes relax, and he drops the angry purse of his lips.  The camera again flashes to Marla’s retreating back and then returns to Narrator.  The camera focusing on the Narrator pulls in slightly which causes the audience is to pay attention to Narrator’s face, which softens completely, jaw relaxing and mouth opening slightly. The face Narrator now wears is one of realization and hurt; he does not like the fact that she has left.

Narrator’s desire for Marla grows at a slower rate in the novel.  While the film relies on visual cues, the reader must rely on the action that is given to us by the narrator.  It is not until chapter eleven that the reader is able to pickup on the concern that Narrator might feel for Marla.  Narrator feels guilt for turning Marla’s mother into soap: “The miles of night between Marla and me offer insects and melanomas and flesh-eating viruses.  Where I’m at isn’t so bad”  (94). When Narrator and Marla are next together, Narrator wants to “make her laugh, to warm her up.  To make her forgive me for the collagen . . .” (106).  Marla wants Narrator to double check her breast for a lump.  In order to “make her laugh” he is telling her personal stories, stories that he has never told anyone before, nor again ever since.  Narrator tells her about the birthmark on his foot shaped like Australia.  “Only  Marla knows this.  Marla and my father.  Not even Tyler knows this” (159).  Narrator has begun to trust Marla, to feel a connection with her.

In the end of Palahniuk’s novel, it is the connection that Narrator longs to hold onto.  Tucked away in a mental institute, Narrator contemplates calling Marla and talking with her.  Even though the desire is still there, Palahniuk focuses the ending on the destruction that Narrator has caused for himself.  Narrator is trapped, this time literally, by the life he has created for himself.  There is no escape, the Space Monkeys eagerly await for Narrator’s return.  This darker ending is changed in Fincher’s film.  Marla is once again at the heart of the destruction.  Narrator and Marla stand alone, holding hands, watching the buildings explode.

copyright November 2009 youmakemehappy

release – one step at a time December 9, 2009

I was able to give someone a copy of a short story I had written.  For the first time, I let go of something that is so very precious to me, a piece of myself.  I didn’t give this story to my husband or my sister or a fellow writer, I gave this to a very old friend that I do not get to talk to as often as I would like.  I do not necessarily like the story that I wrote, and I’ve been afraid to go back and read it again since the primary editing.  I was proud of the work in that I was able to step out of my realm of familiarity.  I wrote in a different voice than I had ever written before.  It doesn’t matter if the story is a success or a failure, it matters that I wrote it.  The old “do or do not, there is no try” situation.  I did not try to write, I wrote.  And better still, I gave.  The people who say they write for themselves, are they really writers or just dreamers?  Have I taken some magical first step away from dreaming (or trying) to writing (doing)?  I sit a little taller on my brown sofa tonight, because I accomplished something; I faced a fear and I won.  It is so very hard to let others see a failure.  It is so hard not to know if something is a failure.  As I said, I’m not particularly proud of the work.  It doesn’t speak on some deeper level, there are no motifs that connect the reader to a greater theme, there is only the story.   The failure does not lie in the poor quality of the story, or the even worse writing, if it existed at all, the failure would have been to do nothing with the story, to allow it to sit quietly on my computer until the computer fell into disrepair.  I succeed.  Part of me hopes that she likes the story.  Part of me hopes that she doesn’t.  And then there’s a smaller, more frightened part, that never wants to know.  Wouldn’t knowing if the story is good or bad negate this little success?  Does it matter if it succeeds or not?  I’m gaining the experience of sharing my writing with others.  I’m sharing a little, private, scared side of me.  That in of itself is success.  The thrill of release – one step at a time.

A Review of the Movie “Keith” June 24, 2009

I watched this independent movie from Lili Claire Communications (which supports the Lili Claire Foundation)  via the Instant Play feature on Netflix.com.  I do not remember why I choose to watch Keith, but I know it is one of the movies that I will remember for quite awhile.  I am not under the impression that this will go down in history as one of the greats, but it has certainly become a favorite of mine.

Jesse McCartney, of whom I knew very little about, plays the title character Keith.  Keith is a senior in AP chemistry with very little drive to actually do the work.  His partner Natalie, played by Elizabeth Harnois, is both aggervated and intrigued by Keith’s personality.  Keith does things “his own way.”  Keith’s behavior toward Natalie, and towards life in general, is suspect from the moment the audience meets him.  He tells a man, who can be easily recognized as a counselor of some sort, that he is planning on having some fun with a girl.  He claims this girl is out of his league, but that doesn’t bother him as he is “outside of the whole high school food chain at this point.”  The counselor looks bothered, and the audience should probably feel the same way.

Natalie is the picture perfect over-achiever, “captain of everything.”  She seems to have the perfect life and on the surface appears to enjoy that perfect life.  She has her sights set on a transfer student who is tall, dark, and handsome in a very literal sense.  Raphael, or Raff, played by Ignacio Serricchio, quickly becomes Natalie’s boyfriend.  Raff and Natalie’s best friend, Brooke, played by Margo Harshman, both warn Natalie that Keith is some sort of stalker with a crush, and she should not be encouraging him.

Natalie ignores her friends and becomes hopelessly entangled in Keith’s schemes.  Keith should not be viewed as an entirely nefarious character.  Keith’s schemes are nothing more than antics that bring some life to daily monotony.  Keith takes Natalie “bowling,” which ends up being harmless pranks of leaving bowling balls on doorsteps, a “picnic” inside a company’s meeting room, and sending her a box containing an carburetor rebuilding kit.  Throughout these “not a date” situations, Natalie is introduced to a life that she desires, one that she doesn’t care about the high school food chain.  Something about Keith sparks her desire to experience life, not just to live it.

Of course, in all romantic stories there is the dilemma that they must over come to be together.  This dilemma is Kieth’s big secret.  Why he choose Natalie, why he won’t let Natalie into his real life.  He lies to her about where he lives, what he wants to do with his life, and he allows her to make her own conclusions about a young boy that is accompanied by the earlier mentioned counselor.  Natalie pushes against her seemingly perfect life and undergoes an emotional struggle as she fights to bring Keith into her  

I say that Natalie has a seemingly perfect life that she seems to be happy with because there exists a tell-tale sign that she is unhappy.  Viewers who pay attention to the repeated scenes of Natalie looking at herself in the mirror will recognize there is only one moment that she smiles at herself.  It is only after she is with Keith that she looks at herself and smiles at what she sees.  

The movie is titled Keith, but only in that it is Keith who is the source of Natalie’s growth as a person.  He gives her a strength to face the world and love what she sees.  There is a sadness to the movie, but out of the sadness grows hope and respect for life.  A respect that leads Natalie to the ever famous cross-roads scene.  The movie pokes fun at the cliche movie scenes.  Keith refers to “the picnic scene”, “the cross-roads scene,” “the confessional scene,” and “the good-bye scene.”  So at the credits the audience welcomes the closing cliche with a smile.

Harnois and McCartney are both believable in their roles.  The chemistry between the two young actors is obvious, and the audience can’t help but love them despite their flaws.  The characters are given flaws that not only propel the story but are the story.  Natalie lies to everyone, including herself, about the truth of her feelings toward Keith.  Keith is obviously hiding something from everyone.  The writing is stilted in very few places.  Keith has a few lines that feel campy, but they are supposed be just “line” that follow the same line as the cliche movie scenes.  The relationships between the characters are real.  The parents of Natalie push her towards a life she didn’t write for herself.  Natalie’s relationship with Brooke is fun but not whole; neither girl fully accepts the other.  In other words, they are friends during high school, but probably won’t stay connected during their college careers.  Raff and Natalie’s relationship seems more physically oriented and no real conversation, meaning nothing more than flirting, is held between them.  

The movie’s timeline is short, from about late April to graduation.  This causes some eyebrows to be raised out how readily and quickly the relationship between Natalie and Keith develop.  Keith and Natalie spend very little time together, which adds a little height to those brows.  The only excuse that I can find for the speed of this relationship is that Keith is the only real person in her life.  Despite the fact he is hiding something from her, she clings to him in order to make sense out of her own life.  

In general, this was a good movie.  If you enjoy romance, give this movie a try.  There is humor, kisses, and tears.  This is a great at home date night movie.  It circles around high school aged characters, but it is not just for the high school aged audience.  Every one older than the age of twelve can understand and enjoy this movie.  The Netflix site lists the movie as NR for language and brief sexuality.  I would list this movie as PG-13 only for the brief sexuality.  I don’t necessarily want to explain to my seven year old what was going on.  But the scene was handled well, only the top of Keith’s bare back and the back of his head and Natalie’s face is seen while they are laying in the back of this truck.  The scene lasts for only a brief few seconds.  Parents will find ample things to discuss with their younger teens, if they feel so inclined to talk about them.  Older teens will have no problems interperting behavior as appropriate or not, and the reasons behind the behavior.  I don’t foresee any issues with someone feeling insulted with how a character is betrayed.  In fact Raff oversteps a particular code of conduct by taking over the CD player and plays a Latin CD.  At first there are snickers and looks of shock, but dancing by the whole crowd quickly ensues.

Final recommendation.  Go out and rent this movie – the old fashion way or via your internet movie provider.  If you’ve seen it, tell others. My rating scale is hated it, ugh, okay, liked it, and loved it.  This movie gets a “loved it.”

Four walls make a home? June 20, 2009

I see the destruction from the outside.

I see where the chimney once stood.

That mound of bricks was the bedroom wall;

This pile of plaster, the living room.

 

I can walk through, an observer to disaster, but

I can’t reach the memories that used to hang on the wall.

I can’t touch the love that used to snuggle on the buried couch

I’m invited in, but I am still a stranger.

 

Rain and snow fall through a broken roof.

No sunlight brightens the room.

The windows have all broken,

The glass can not shimmer on the floors.

 

Death has come to this house.

Where is life to be found?

Can these walls be rebuilt?

Can this home be renewed?

6 count them yes 6 chapters!! March 13, 2009

Okay so can I begin to even tell you how excited I am?  The question should be “should I tell you” because I won’t stop.  

I have finished six chapters of my first project.  They are raw, they are obviously amateur, they are woefully sparse in proper detail, but they are mine and finished.  Well, I haven’t gone back to edit, I want to wait until the whole project is complete to do that.  But the rough draft is coming along quite nicely.  

The process hasn’t gotten any easier either.  It still is hard work.  I’ve had to take off time so that I can work on school.  I think this dilemma contributes  to the hard part of the hard work.  The real scary thing is, I can’t see the finish.  I know the basic ending, but getting there looks like it will be a long journey.  

But, the first step was official taken and now the journey has really begun.  I can’t turn back now.  Aside from the finished chapters, I have tens of pages that have already been cut due to conflict or distaste or change of pace.  I have been keeping everything.  If I cut something there is a quick caption next to it to remind myself why I didn’t like it.  There are some lines that I will/already have add back in because I think those lines are particularly good.  (read: humorous).  

I can’t say I’m choked to tears with satisfaction over everything.  I know there are pages worth of stuff I need to go over and rewrite.  I am just trying to capture a basic structure though.  I plan on filling out more details later.  

Oh, well.  I’ve paused long enough.  Back to work before the children get home.

BE HAPPY!!