Journeying

Structure for writers.

Today’s Friday Find is another book that is an invaluable resource for writers–and fairly interesting for readers and filmgoers who have an interest beyond passive absorption of entertainment. If you’re interested in structure, you will get a lot out of The Writers’ Journey: Mythic Structure for Writers by Christopher Vogler.

I think so highly of The Writers’ Journey that I bought it twice. Lent it to someone. Never got it back. I hate that. Sometimes, when that happens, I growl and vow never to lend that person a book again while adopting a zen-like resignation to the loss of the book.

The Writers’ Journey, though–I have to have a copy of that on my shelves.

Here’s the story behind The Writers’ Journey:

Christopher Vogler was (may still be, for all I know) a Hollywood development executive. Inspired by the work of Joseph Campbell, he created a legendary 7-page company memo for screenwriters. Expanding on that work, he developed the book, The Writers’ Journey, and continues to teach classes based on these ideas and techniques.

The basic premise is that there are archetypes and stages in every hero’s journey–and that a successful story (movie, book, play) is a hero’s journey.

As a director, I have used these principles to help me help playwrights analyze and rewrite their plays. As a writer, I’ve tried to do the same with my own work. (Always a little harder to find the objectivity there, of course.) As a movie goer, I have been fascinated to watch these archetypes and journeys play out in almost every good movie I’ve ever seen.

You can get an overview of the stages of the hero’s journey on Mr. Vogler’s website: here. Just click the link to “Hero’s Journey.” The text of the original 7 page memo is there, as well as an adaptation called the Heroine’s Journey.

It’s fascinating stuff. And the whole outline is there. All the basics. The book, however, expands on this outline and offers a wealth of examples. It’s well worth a read.

Happy journeying.

I’ve been to the zoo

This gallery contains 21 photos.

What is it with zombies?

I’m not talking about cocktails.

I’m talking about the horror movie monsters.

Now, it should be noted that I don’t know much about zombies. I have a horror of horror movies. I will only watch one if an actor I particularly like has needed a job badly enough to do a horror movie.

I know they’re called the Undead. I’ve heard they eat brains. (Really? And we like this?) I know that they are reanimated corpses. (Ugh.)

I did once see From the Dead of Night (because I like Lindsay Wagner). It didn’t shed any light on our pop culture fascination with zombies. It wasn’t even that scary. I mean, I was able to turn the light off that night and go to bed without any hesitation.

Maybe they weren’t very good zombies?

I don’t know. But I am wondering today about why zombies have become so popular. Surely, someone has done a study on this phenomenon? Is it our fear of death manifesting in another, albeit creepier, vision of an afterlife? Is it some metaphor of a civilization gone numb and “dead” and controlled by outside forces (Facebook?).

It’s undoubtedly a current craze. Witness this infographic that made the rounds in 2009, “How to Write for the American Theater.” Matt Slaybaugh’s tongue-in-cheek flow chart does give prominent place to zombies.

What is it with zombies? Does anybody know?

“A fulfiller of good intentions”

Get paving.

I told you, didn’t I, that I was reading a biography of Theodore Roosevelt? Actually, it was three biographies, all by Edmund Morris: The Rise of Theodore Roosevelt, Theodore Rex, and Colonel Roosevelt. (All quite good, by the way.)

The final volume ended with a quote from a schoolboy writing a report on the former President in 1922. Thomas Maher called Theodore Roosevelt “a fulfiller of good intentions.”

There’s something wonderful about that phrase.

You know what they say about the road to Hell? Paved with good inentions. You can’t fulfill a good intention, though, unless you have them. So, Tuesday’s Tip is to get paving–and then get fulfilling.

I hope someday the same could be said of me–“a fulfiller of good intentions”–although I am absolutely certain I fall far short of Teddy

What about you?

Untidy Murder

A Maybe Miracle

I may be premature in announcing this to be a Monday Miracle, because it hasn’t actually arrived yet. However, I did get an email notification that the book has shipped.

Shipped, I tell you!

And you tell me, “We don’t know what you’re talking about!”

Explanations are in order.

Once upon a time, when I was about twelve, I discovered a series of murder mysteries written by Frances and Richard Lockridge. They featured a pair of amateur detectives, Mr. and Mrs. North. They featured them, in fact, in a series of 26 novels, a Broadway play, a film, and a couple of TV and radio shows.

I don’t remember which book I read first. I do remember I got it out of my grandmother’s library one summer. And then another and another.

They were smart books. Funny. Full of the flavor of NYC in the Forties and Fifties. Unusually for the time period, it was usually Mrs. North who figured out who the murderer was.

Over time, I read them all. And I wanted to be able to re-read them all at will. Thus, they were high on my list at used book stores and flea markets. I picked them up here and there, and then, some time ago, a number of them were re-released. I was able to find them at regular book stores.

For years now, I have had 25 of them on my shelves. Untidy Murder, written in 1947, was the lone volume missing. Twice, I have nearly had it. The internet greatly facilitates the search for ancient tomes. When I have remembered to check, copies of it have appeared to be for sale. But twice, I have ordered, had the order accepted and, subsequently, gotten a “We’re sorry, we no longer have that book” email.

Just two weeks ago, I decided to spend part of the $40 I did not have to pay my doctor (thank you, President Obama) on Untidy Murder. It was a splurge. Out-of-print and in demand books are not cheap. I ordered it. And five days later, I got the “We’re sorry” email.

Undaunted and determined–it’s the last book in a forty year search–I remembered that another copy was available, for a higher price, and I ordered it again.

Yesterday, I got the email that it had been shipped.

Hooray!

I haven’t read Untidy Murder in a long time. How great to finally, finally, finally have the whole series! I’m excited.

Now, it should be noted that these are not first editions or anything. They are simply good reading copies of “good reads.”

But isn’t that what a book is for?

The rain it raineth every day

Shakespeare!

I would like to propose a drinking game. Not a real one. I don’t really hold with drinking games. I just like the idea of an ongoing treasure hunt for a particular something. For example, there was once a famous NYPD Blue drinking game. (It may only have been famous in the NYPD Blue fandom.) People were supposed to have a drink whenever particular characters did particular things.

The point of a drinking game associated with a TV show is that each show has repetitive lines or behaviors. The game acknowledges those repetitions and gets some fun out of them–assuming you actually think it’s fun to pass out and wake up with a hangover.

Since I don’t think that’s fun, let’s not call this a drinking game. Let’s call it–I don’t know–padiddle is taken–let’s call it “Flapdoodle.”

Flapdoodle acknowledges that blogs may also have repetitive themes or phrases. Players of Flapdoodle are now looking for one of those that I already know I repeat: references to and/or quotes from Shakespeare. Upon recognition of such a thing, the player should leap to his or her feet, turn around twice, flap his or her arms, and yell, “Flapdoodle.”

(Any player at work or in any otherwise inappropriate environment may make a discreet mark on a piece of paper to remind the player to do the Flapdoodle Dance later, in the privacy of his or her home. We work on the honor system.)

Players may also suggest other significant repetitious ideas or phrases via email or the comments below.

Every Flapdoodle Dance is worth 1 point. Any player who amasses 20 points may thereafter be known as a Flapdoodle Dandy.

Heavens to Murgatroyd! This is what happens when I run into writers’ block and can’t think of anything to post!

But, honestly, the Flapdoodle post is much more fun than what was originally behind today’s headline. So, maybe tomorrow we will continue to look into the “rain that raineth every day.”

Flapdoodle!

City mice have cleaner clothes

And do less laundry.

Not really. But it’s a good headline, isn’t it? One thing about blogging: I think I’m getting better at headlines.

The reference here is to one of Aesop’s Fables: “The Town Mouse and the Country Mouse.” I always knew it, as many of you probably did, as “The City Mouse and the Country Mouse.” Without rushing off to re-read it, I think, basically, it is a story about culture shock.

I thought of it today as I was doing yet another load of laundry.

See, back when I was a city mouse, it took us a total of an hour and a half to do all our laundry. Now that I live in–what?–I don’t think this is the country, and I’m not sure it’s suburbia. We’ll call it the country, though, for purposes of this discussion. That’s fair, since one could argue that anyplace outside of New York City is, by contrast, country. (Unless you live in London, maybe, or Rome.)

So, I used to be a city mouse, and we’d take our clothes down to the laundry room in the basement of our apartment building once a week. We’d fill up all four machines, come back in about 30 minutes and transfer the wet clothes to, maybe, two dryers. About 40 minutes later, we’d come back, lug them upstairs, and put them all away.

Now that I live in the country, it takes about an hour and a half four to five times a week!

One washer and one dryer–and they’re on the small size. (We’re going to get bigger ones, eventually, but these work.) Plus, the dryer is electric where the NYC dryers were gas. It makes a difference.

Granted, I can write this blog post or mow the lawn or do other things while the clothes are spinning, but I did that kind of thing in the city, too, between elevator runs. Who’d have thought, as I moved away from museums and theatres and corner delis and world-class restaurants and public transportation, that one of the things I’d miss most would be laundry rooms?

If I’d known then…

Networking 101

Yesterday, I talked about discovering that my network is more diverse than I think it is. That reminded me, again, of the importance of networking and how so many of us don’t think we’re very good at it.

It has a kind of slimy connotation, doesn’t it?

Networking.

All those people handing out business cards and chatting with spurious energy the whole time their eyes are scanning the room for somebody better to approach, somebody with more “contacts.” <shudder>

I think we lose a lot of time and a lot of fun and a lot of valuable relationships because of that view of “networking.” My dread of the process began to disappear when somebody pointed me toward Keith Ferrazzi‘s Never Eat Alone. I wish they’d given it to me when I was in college (except it hadn’t been written then).

You can find some of Mr. Ferrazzi’s tips and suggestions on his website, but basically, he talks in the book about building your network before you need it and about how you should really be trying to find the ways you can help the people in your network.

Try going to your next event looking for a way to help the next person you meet.

Think about it.

It gets the focus off you, so you won’t be so nervous–if you’re given to those kind of nerves. It guides your conversation–which, if you are a person who hates small talk–is invaluable. It not only guides your small talk, it makes it bigger. (Whew!) The connection will be more meaningful if you bring something to it.

Never Eat Alone is one of those life changing books. If you’re a natural extrovert, maybe you don’t need it. I, on the other hand, found it invaluable.

I’ve got a pretty good network in spite of congenital shyness. But if I’d known then. . .my niece would really have been impressed!

Of course you do!

Who knew I had a network?

I did.

To a point.

I mean, I knew I had a network of theatre colleagues. Twenty-some years involved in New York theatre, and I’d better. If I don’t, I have been seriously wasting my time.

What surprised me recently is the realization that I have a wider, more diverse network than that. And I’m very thankful to have made the discovery.

Last week, I took a trip to North Carolina with my mom. We were going to meet my brother-in-law and my niece. The purpose of the trip from our end was to hand over a car which is being passed on to my soon-to-be-licensed niece. From theirs, it was to get the car and to look at several colleges. “Soon-to-be-licensed” equates in this case, as in many, to “contemplating college applications.”

So, great!

We took a look at University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill–bustling, beautiful campus–and Duke University in Durham. Not so bustling. Equally beautiful. (The students weren’t back at Duke, yet, while they were already arriving at UNC.)

All that is kind of beside the point.

When we got back to the hotel, my niece and I decided to go swimming. (Also not really the point.)

Down in the pool, treading water and trying not to get our hair too wet–(Don’t ask me. It was something about air conditioning and hair dryers)–we were discussing the colleges and what she thinks she might want to study.

She mentioned one possible career path, and I said, “You know, I know somebody who does that. If you want, I could ask him to talk with you some time.” She mentioned another possibility, and I said, “I think I was in a play with somebody once who is doing that now. I bet she’d be glad to talk to you.” A little bit later, she mentioned that she and her dad might stop to see Wake Forest on the way home. I said, “I know somebody who went to Wake Forest–” and she said, “Of course you do!”

It was funny–although maybe you had to be there–but it was also an interesting lesson.

Most of us are well aware that networking is important. A lot of us don’t think we’re very good at it.

But our networks are bigger than we think.

You know more people in more places and in more circumstances than you can possibly imagine.

Of course you do.

Owl Schedules

No, I’m not talking about Harry Potter.

I’m wondering about owls. Can they tell time? Has anybody ever studied this?

I can’t find anything on Google, but we have an owl that’s been coming around for the past few weeks and, honestly, she has been arriving at almost exactly the same time every evening.

Now, why is that?

Okay, so she lives in the neighborhood. Why shouldn’t she come around?

No reason at all. I would expect her to hunt around in the yards of the houses surrounding wherever she has her nest. I’d even expect that she might come nightly. What I don’t expect is that she lights in that same tree every night at 7:42 pm.

Is she punching a time clock? Do her eyes register some specific shift in light that indicates it is time to begin her appointed rounds? And are they such creatures of habit that she travels the same exact route every night? Two minutes to fly from the oak down the street to the pine tree next door. Another 20 seconds to flit to the top of the sweetgum tree.

Maybe.

But even if the route is identical night after night, doesn’t a mouse or a mole ever appear? You’d think there’d be some variation in the schedule to allow for hunting.

I haven’t seen her for a few nights, but for a while there, we could have set the clock by her.

I’m just wondering why that was.

Elaine Smith Writes

Anything She Wants

Monthly Archives: August 2012