I occasionally have a problem I like to call ‘magpie mind.’
I try to focus on one thing, then I get a phone call or think of something interesting, or funny, or sexy and bam, my mind’s elsewhere. I have to wrestle it back into place and it’ll stay there… for a bit.
This could be some form of undiagnosed ADHD or simply a manifestation of the typical gamer’s attention span. It could also be my desire to break out of day job routines that has me mentally meandering. Either way, it can be detrimental to getting things done on time.
This ‘condition’ along with the few of dayjob projects I currently juggle caused me to fall behind on my blogging routine. Better the blog suffers, however, than my day job performance. I still need the paycheck, after all, and the blog doesn’t give me one. Despite efforts to provide a service people will pay me for through this portal, I’ve only gotten special requests a few times. That’s the way of things, I suppose, and it’s not going to stop me from trying.
I can’t help but feel like I’m letting you down as readers, however. I want to post interesting, relevant, thought-provoking and occasionally humorous things here, be they thoughts on writing, reviews of movies or critical cage matches. There’s more of that to come, I promise.
It just isn’t going to happen today. I keep getting distra- ooh, shiny.
You may be looking at that subject line and wondering which terrible screenplay or abominable novel I’m going to discuss. Oh no, you might be lamenting, is this another rant on Meyer? No, it isn’t. I’m not going to be saying any particular writer is an idiot. Except perhaps myself.
I’ve never really wanted a career outside of writing. Some people have gotten into working with their hands right out of high school – they build our houses, maintain our cars, keep our water flowing and run the machines that give us light at night. Other people went to business school and studied science and busted their asses to get into a career. Neither of those options ever really appealed to me. Since I was a kid I’ve lived inside my head and I’ve wanted nothing more than to show others the worlds that drive me to distraction and get paid for it. Pretty idiotic, wouldn’t you say?
There are plenty of other, better ways to make money. If I’d really applied myself to my programming from the outside, I’d probably be making about twice what I make now in that field. I wouldn’t be struggling to make ends meet. I wouldn’t be passing up great opportunities to get my work seen, critiqued and commented upon because I can’t afford a night’s stay at a hotel. I know what I could do to have a more comfortable lifestyle, but I refuse to do it. Idiotic.
Then again, village idiots weren’t necessarily immediately considered worthless. They contributed to the social fabric of the village. They made children laugh. They made adults think, sometimes, or at least appreciate their more comfortable situations. And for doing this, they were taken care of – bread, shelter, water to drink and occasionally some clothes that weren’t torn up and smelling of shit. They didn’t have to pay anything for them. While others in the village toiled in the field or on rooftops with shingles or stood guard in the hot sun, the village idiot was just allowed to be him or herself.
Who’s really the bigger idiot, there?
Unfortunately I can’t argue outright stupidity in my case. Sure, I’m a dumbass from time to time. I can neglect to plan ahead. I’ve never quite gotten a grip on the most effective way to use this shoestring on which I and my family are living. It’s likely that my biggest claim to idiocy is this notion I have that, sooner or later, things will work themselves out and I’ll be able to pursue my desired career without needing a dayjob. To some, that’s optimism. To others, it’s idiocy.
And you know what? I’m okay with that.
If being dedicated to writing for a living (and fiction at that) and finding a way to do so as my primary and perhaps sole means of income makes me an idiot, then slap a dunce cap on me and I’ll go cavort in the village square. I’ll be proud to do it, too. I’d prefer telling off-color jokes to random passersby and juggling horse turds to false smiles and sales-oriented gamesmanship.
Nobody ever said chasing your dragons was easy. But when you wear shining armor, keep a white horse and fancy yourself something resembling a knight, what the hell else are you going to do? America doesn’t have a monarch and I don’t have any peasants to oppress.
Some of the brightest and most memorable women I’ve known have dealt with long-term, incurable and nearly debilitating illnesses. Two in particular have introduced me to a particular way of dealing with these obstacles known as “the spoon theory.” Christine Miserandino explains the theory in detail here, but let me provide you with the Cliff’s notes.
Every task and undertaking over the course of a day, no matter how mundane it might seem, incurs a cost. In this case, each task costs you a spoon. Some of us have a silverware drawer full of spoons of various sizes. Go through that drawer, and every time you do something during the day – get out of bed, take a shower, clean up the home, go to work, do a task at work, cook something – toss a spoon over your shoulder. You’d end up with a big pile of spoons on the floor and, in my case, at least one very confused-looking housecat.
Now imagine you only have seven spoons.
Or five.
Or three.
Kind of drives home the importance of spending one’s time wisely, if you ask me.
At times I need to remind myself that I can’t write everything I want to. I’d love to finish my manuscript’s edits, start a new one, write a screenplay, send more pitches to the Escapist. But I only have so much time over the course of the day. To extend the aforementioned metaphor, I have only a few pens with which to write every day. When they’re out of ink, they’re gone.
Some days, I have more pens than others. It could be a weekend, a holiday, a sick day. Ah, but will I use those pens wisely, or write something that has no lasting value, like a character drabble for a game or a navel-gazing blog post? And the more time I spend on other tasks or pursuits – unpacking long-packed boxes, playing a game, you name it – the fewer pens I have.
Now, I’m not saying that all writers suffer from an illness. I mean, it’s entirely possible that we do, but the writing itself isn’t an affliction. Unless you ask Heinlein. Then again, maybe he was on to something. It’d explain why I only get food poked in my direction at the end of a long stick through a slot in the door.
All I’m saying is, creative folk should look to spend their creative time wisely. We only have so many hours in a day and we can’t do all we’d like in those hours. It’s important to have goals, set expectations, mark milestones. The more we get into the habit in managing the use and expenditure of our limited pens, the better our work will be and the more we’ll get accomplished over all.
The phrase “get back on the horse” usually refers to someone getting “thrown” from said horse. A tragedy occurs, a heart is broken, a house burns down or a car is totaled – it’s something that throws the individual in question completely out of whack. Equilibrium is shot. The status quo’s out the window. The only way to get back on track is to get back on the horse, even if it just threw you.
However, it’s not just the earth-shattering events that cause us to leave the back of our steeds. Sometimes, things just stop for a bit. The horse needs water or caught a rock in their hoof. We swing down from the saddle, tend to the horse, and take some time for ourselves as well, to grab a bite or take in the scenery. I’m speaking metaphorically, of course, but the bottom line is we stop our progress in our journey.
One of my favorite Westerns of recent years is Hidalgo, and not just because Viggo Mortensen’s in it. Towards the end, Frank (Viggo’s character) goes through a somewhat trippy sequence. He and Hidalgo have fought tooth and nail to persevere in the punishing race across the desert, and the horse is so exhausted that Frank considers putting his companion down. However, he experiences admonitions from his Lakota ancestors to finish the journey and that he and his horse need each other. Emerging from the dream, Frank turns to see Hidalgo on his feet and waiting for the rather thick human to get back on so they can win the damn race. (If you haven’t seen this film, it’s a lot of fun and a classic adventure steeped in Western trappings, so check it out. Also, horses!)
Our desires and dreams are a bit like that horse. We might think that they’re daunting or even impossible to complete. We may exhaust ourselves trying to pursue them at the same time we struggle to make ends meet and address practical matters of living in the modern age. Bills need to be paid, clients need to be appeased, debts need to be settled and obligations need to be met. A lot of needs shove and yank us hither and yon, leaving little energy for ourselves. Sometimes we don’t want to put that energy into something that seems like it’ll go nowhere, considering there are tons of others out there already doing what we wish we could. Better to bear those ills we have, etc.
Besides, a lot of creative people including myself are a bit like magpies. We may want to get from A to B but between those two points are shiny things. New movies, favorite games, comfortable stories and old favorites. We flit to and fro in our free time, especially if we’ve spent ourselves on a creative effort that is either seems too daunting or returns little gratification. The keyboard, the controller, the popcorn bucket, the remote for the TV – they’re security blankets, things to cling to when the phone calls from collectors begin and we want to just forget about deadlines for a while.
But we get a nudge. Like an impatient horse standing behind us whose gotten their water and taken some time to rest their hooves, our desires don’t leave us alone. We can’t stay in idyllic wilderness settings forever. We’re on a journey, here. And while the journey itself is often just as interesting as the destination, if not moreso, we won’t reach our goals if we stand in the middle of the field staring at them. We have to move there. We have to make the effort. We have to get back on the horse.
It could be argued that a lot of this “writer’s block” stuff comes from us blocking ourselves. It’s an excuse to stop expending effort, burn a little less lean tissue, invite less stress into our lives. I stopped work on Acradea to finish the Blizzard contest entry, and then… played more Warcraft. Got some fresh air. Saw Scott Pilgrim. Cheered for the Union. And it was fun, refreshing and relaxing.
But my manuscript’s still here. It’s waiting for me. If it were a horse, it’d be looking at me somewhat impatiently. It wants to move forward, continue the journey, get to a place where it can be hand-fed some damn oats by a pretty farmer’s daughter. It’s not going to get there while I stand around wool-gathering.
For my part, it’s past time to get back on the horse. Have you had moments like that? Has a project, a work in progress, given you a mental nudge to remind you it’s still there? Have you ever taken a break for longer than you expected, only to find you need to pull yourself back into working on it?
Scott Pilgrim vs. The World is a film that’s difficult to put into a genre. Its central story is, at first glance, a romance. A great deal of the dialog is comedic. But how many romantic comedies do you know where the conflicts are resolved through kung-fu matches? And how many kung-fu battles have you seen in a movie that include running scores, power-ups and visible sound effects? The term “something for everybody” gets bandied about a great deal, but Scott Pilgrim just might fit that bill. The problem with having so many of these elements in a film, however, is that some elements don’t get as much time as they should.
That isn’t to say this movie is bad. This movie is far from bad. This movie, in fact, is very good, and you should go see it if you haven’t already.
Scott Pilgrim. Age: 22. Rating: Awesome.
Based on the acclaimed series of graphic novels by Brian Lee O’Malley, the eponymous Scott Pilgrim is a Canadian bass player who’s unashamedly between jobs, dating a high schooler and mooching off of his gay roommate Wallace, who tolerates Scott because it’s fun to watch him squirm when discomforting things happen to him. Scott’s precious little life takes an unexpected turn when a mysterious girl named Ramona Flowers skates through his dreams. Drawn to Ramona’s mature and world-weary personality, Scott encounters more than he bargained for when he is attacked by Ramona’s evil exes. Like Mega Man needing to defeat a series of Robot Masters to restore order in the world, Scott Pilgrim needs to defeat a series of super-powered individuals to get what he wants. Luckily, despite being a slacker and a dweeb, Scott’s also the best fighter in the province. As for what he wants, let’s take a look at Scott as he’s depicted in the film.
Let me make this perfectly clear: if you pass up on this movie because you don’t like Michael Cera, you are making a mistake. It’s not that I don’t understand where the ire against Cera comes from. Previously, in romantic comedies, he’s cast in the role of the screenwriter’s projection of the ‘right guy’ for the girl. You know what I mean, the sensitive, quiet, intelligent and otherwise marginalized young man who’s so much better for the girl than the large, attractive, macho jerks she tends to date – a Marty Stu, if you will. Now, while Ramona has dated some jerks, and Scott is somewhat sensitive and quiet… he’s also, himself, a jerk. He knows he’s sensitive but he uses that sensitivity to milk those around him for sympathy. His intelligence is applied to remaining as free from responsibility as possible. He exists in a personal space that I think a lot of young men of my generation, including myself, have at one point or another: the militant refusal to grow up. In a way, the ‘final boss’ in the story is the kind of person Scott could become if he’s not careful – a pretentious, self-centered, smirking and completely slimy hipster douchebag.
+2 versus critics.
Meeting Ramona (very well played by Mary Elizabeth Winstead) doesn’t just change Scott’s life because he has to fight to the death in order to date her. The message she conveys to Scott and, by extension, those of us in the audience who live or have lived in that aforementioned Neverland in our heads, is as necessary as it is harsh. “You’re not Peter Pan. You have to grow up. You need to get over yourself. If you can stop being self-absorbed and self-aggrandizing you can let the good things about yourself shine through and speak for themselves; otherwise, you’re going to turn into something you hate.” Ramona also presents us with a personification of the sort of things we deal with when we get to know somebody. Their past, the people they’ve loved and lost, the mistakes they’ve made that haunt them; this ‘baggage’ doesn’t just sit around. It’s active and nearly constant, trying to keep us out of the moment and pulling us back into the past. While ultimately the battle Scott needs to have is with himself for his own sake, he also needs to be willing to fight past Ramona’s baggage in order to be a part of her future.
Now, when you get right down to it, all of this unsubtle metaphorical self-examination occurs under a surface of retro gaming references, genuinely funny comedy, a slew of callbacks to the graphic novels and some really memorable performances. Kieran Culkin’s come out of nowhere to own the role of Wallace, Scott’s smirking roommate who acts as something of a mentor. The League of Evil Exes seems to have come to life directly from O’Malley’s pages, and Chris Evans and Brandon Routh in particular seem to be having a great deal of fun in their roles, which I found quite amusing personally as I tend to think of them as Captain America and Superman, respectively. And I will admit, when the dual cameo shows up at the end of Scott’s fight with a particular evil ex, I went into full fanboy mode. I’ll say nothing more for fear of spoilers.
So here’s a picture of Sex Bob-Omb instead.
It’s not a perfect movie. Condensing six novel-length parts of a narrative into a two-hour movie means things are going to get trimmed, watered and reduced down. A few of the characters are robbed of some of their development, and even Scott’s growth towards the end is somewhat truncated compared to how it occurs in the books. Now, the books were still in production when the film started shooting, so the last third overall is different from the source material. However, I think a lot of the people who still didn’t feel any sympathy whatsoever towards Scott at the end might have been buoyed up by some of those missing experiences. Not that Scott or any protagonist necessarily needs to be 100% sympathetic in order to carry a story – in fact, Scott’s jerkass behavior in the beginning and middle of the movie drives home his need to get over himself all the more, and holds up that rather uncomfortable mirror to those of us who’ve been there.
In spite of its flaws, I really liked Scott Pilgrim vs. The World. Director Edgar Wright, the man who brought us Shaun of the Dead and Hot Fuzz, really makes the visuals pop off of the screen and worked with O’Malley to ensure the characters that do get developed do so in a well-paced arc that shows their complexity and their humanity. There’s a lot of great music throughout the movie, the visual style is a quirky flavor of awesome, the dialog is smart and the fights all have a great deal of energy. The video game rules by which Scott Pilgrim’s Toronto operates go unexplained but, really, we don’t need to understand why Scott has a Pee Bar or where he stashes all of those coins after a fight. When the ex leaves him more than 2.40 Canadian, that is.
Reversal!!
Stuff I Liked: I’ve yet to see an Edgar Wright film I haven’t thoroughly enjoyed. Michael Cera acquits himself well with a very faithful and very good Scott Pilgrim. The messages in this movie are necessary to our generation and rather clearly conveyed under all the trappings of indie rock and 8-bit kung fu. Stuff I Didn’t Like: A lot of the characters – Kim Pine, Stephen Stills, Envy Adams and Stacey Pilgrim, to name just a few – feel a little underdeveloped. The metaphors aren’t terribly subtle. I expected Scott to have a little more smirking self-confidence at first to more closely follow his arc in the books, but this is a minor quibble. And I really didn’t like how people went to see The Expendables or Eat, Pray, Love instead of this film. America, I am disappoint. Stuff I Loved: The music. The fights. The fact that Toronto is actually playing Toronto instead of standing in for America. Ramona, Wallace, Knives and the League of Evil Exes. The playful, retro and refreshing visual aesthetic. This exchange:
Young Neil: “What’re you doing?” Scott: “Getting a life.”
Bottom Line: Go see this movie. I plan on buying it on DVD when it comes out. Brian Lee O’Malley, Edgar Wright, this great cast and a hard-working crew have labored to produce something fresh, original and fun while other studios churn out the cinematic equivalent of a corner convenience store hot dog. You know, the ones that have been sitting under heating lamps for at least four hours? Ew. See Scott Pilgrim vs. The World instead of the other stuff that’s out there. Trust me. You will not be disappointed.
