Reay Jespersen

So the winners for the first mifiction contest were announced today, and I was none of’em. Basically, they’re taking the classic Choose Your Own Adventure-style approach to stories and formatting them for use on mobile devices. Great idea, to be sure, and one that I think will do well. However, it would seem that my concept - having the reader be a superhero and take on various criminals en route to discovering what a supercriminal mastermind is up to at the climax - either wasn’t done well enough, or wasn’t their cup of tea (no UK pun intended). What makes it a little more disappointing is that I had thought that if it were a success, my story could very easily be spun off into other stories featuring the same character. Much like a comic series.

Having said all that, I’d already known for the last week or so that even if I were rejected, I’d plow through and finish the story, at least for myself. It’s not only proving an interesting challenge to offer the reader multiple choices for certain actions while trying to keep the main thrust of the story moving forward - a unique challenge to this kind of format - but at over twenty packed pages, it’s also easily the longest (prose) story I’ve written since high scool. Anyone who knows me knows that while I’m constantly struck, and smitten by, new ideas for stories, characters, and settings, following through with them to completion happens all too rarely - typically due to getting hit with other ideas which then lure me away from work on earlier ideas. So having pushed myself to get this far in the hopes of publishing through mifiction, I’m eager to finish the story, if only for myself. I at least want to finish the first draft, as I’m not sure how much polish I want to bother putting on it when it’s not going anywhere at the moment, and the often-advised putting it in the proverbial drawer and forgetting about it will let my fresh eyes in months or years to come take a more clear-headed approach to editing and re-writing, should I wish to fix it up in the future.

This also raises an item of note I’ve been considering the last couple of weeks:
It shall be my New Year’s Resolution to submit stories and/or screenplays to no fewer than twenty-five contests or publishers in 2010. A scant number for writers who’ve been pushing themselves on submissions as hard as I should’ve been for a long time, but a wholly achievable number for someone who’s done precious little submitting in the past. An average of two submissions per month (plus one for good measure) should by rights be something I could do in my sleep. And if I happen to blow that target out of the water early on in the year, then so much the better.

In light of that, if you’re a writer and submit your stuff to contests or publishers who are looking for short story/flash fiction or feature-length/short screenplay material, please mention them in the comments section or contact me directly with your (much appreciated) insight.

Thanks very much!

I’ve officially signed up for Movember, a prostate cancer awareness/cure fund for which men grow moustaches through the month of November. Please help me raise cash for prostate cancer awareness and cures! http://ca.movember.com/mospace/41973

In light of my recent shift of approach to writing, Jackie suggested - and not for the first time - that along with writing at other times, I deidcate one night a week to it. Wednesday was the day she recommended, typically being a rather uneventful night and being the last day of the week when I have a pretty good idea of when I’ll be getting home from work.

Sadly, this was an unusually busy night, so while I left work on time, after making one stop for food shopping and another for seeing a friend we’d been meaning to see for some time, we only got home at 7:30. Tack on dinner prep, eating, and catching a few scant extra minutes of the second period of the Leaf game - interesting team they’ve cobbled together… be watching to see how they do this year - and I was only sitting down to start writing at 8:30. Hardly the “night of writing” it was supposed to be.

Still, by 10:00, I’d done a notch over 1900 words on a kids’ story which I think has a solid idea behind it but whose execution isn’t really doing much for me. I’ll keep pushing on it and try to finish it regardless of how brutal a first draft it may end up being, however, because if I keep trying to get a new start to it I’m happier with, I may never make any real progress in it. I’ve realized recently, apparently a quality Jackie had long-since identified, that I don’t like lack of progress in my work (and the more I think about it, in other aspects of my life, as well). Hence, I figure my re-hashing the opening to this story, potentially again and again, will only get me more frustrated/less interested in it than forging ahead and finishing it would, even if it results in a far from perfect first draft. Rough aspects can always be worked out in re-writes, after all.

For now, off to sleep in pursuit of another aspiration of mine: getting a decent amount of sleep during the week. So crazy an option to my often being tired and looking like hell that it just might work!

Talk soon.

So I dropped the ball a week ago.

In failing my first attempt at 100 words a day for 100 days, I got back on the saddle and did it right the second time. Not only that, blew past the original 100 days and kept going. And I recently amped that up to 200 words a day. Not a lot, perhaps, for someone aspiring to be a writer, but far more than I’ve (perhaps ever) consistently written in the past.

Then last week some time I woke up in the morning and realized that I hadn’t done my words the day before. We’d had friends over the previous night, and my watch alarm had gone off at the set time - a last-ditch reminder I used to get my words done if I hadn’t done so previously each day - but I didn’t do them. Time was, particularly amid the 100 words a day for 100 day challenge, I would’ve been mortified. But I was strangely alright with it.

In part I think it’s because I realized that while I want to make a living from writing, every writer has his own approach to getting that writing done. And while I’d stuck firmly to the 100 words a day for 100 days challenge (v2.0) and beyond, while the challenge was clearly designed to get a person into the habit of writing every day, that never really took for me. It was always something I went out of my way to do (first thing in the (early) morning, over lunch, etc.), or was reminded to do (typically via watch alarm and sometimes via Jackie).

And it was shortly after that, in an I Should Be Writing interview podcast, that I heard China Mieville say that he doesn’t really have any particular approach to writing. He doesn’t do it every day, nor at the same time, nor in the same place, nor anywhere near a consistent volume of words.

The point is, every writer approaches writing differently. Doing the daily thing was never really my bag, and at times felt like I was just writing to fulfill the agreement with myself, not writing becuase I had anything I was particularly passionate about writing. And there’s a strong argument to be made for stopping (or changing tactics) when something you love doing starts feeling like an obligation.

Hence, as I lay there awake on the morning of realization that I hadn’t written for the first time in what I figure is in the range of a year and four months (give or take), I was actually ok with it. Time to revisit the drawing board and see what else I can try in order to keep the writing both flowing and interesting to me. Any and all suggestions on that score are, as always, welcomed.

Talk soon.

I was listening to a podcast last week - called I Should Be Writing, which is excellent and should be checked out by anyone aspiring to write fiction - when I heard a commercial for The Amazing Meeting 7. It’s a conference on “critical thinking”, and says that among other things, it will “sharpen your skeptical skills”.

This is the second or third time in perhaps a year that this notion has been presented to me. A former was a podcast that had been recommended by some friends, which I found the urge to stop listening to in short order because it began with a group of guys sitting around and talking about how they’re all skeptics. Even more, they were lauding a member of their group (who wasn’t with them) who was, they all agreed, a great skeptic.

And I don’t get it. I don’t get the appeal of being actively skeptical. Certainly not of being a notably “great” skeptic. And really, how is being skeptical about everything you hear any better than believing everything you hear? How is one extreme better than the other?

Personally, I don’t know that any extremism of any sort is a mentally (nor physically) healthy thing.

Maybe it’s just me. I’ve certainly got a more temperate personality than many do, so extremism of any flavour isn’t big on my list of qualities, nor things I find appealing. And there’s doubtless an argument to be made for my spending a lot of time playing with story and character ideas in my head, so perhaps it’s just not in me to default to questioning if/how that this or that could actually happen so much as revel in the possibilities; enjoy the wide-eyed wonder of “what if”s.

Do we know everything? Of course not. We’re constantly building up our base of knowledge about ourselves and everything around us. So it smacks of hubris when “great skeptics” write off certain concepts as being impossible. Unproven is one thing. That it simply can’t ever be, or ever have been, the case is a whole other matter.

Do we know a lot about a lot? Absolutely. I just think that a healthy mind is one that’s open to possibilities and constant learning, even about things we think we know.

And for anyone who’d eschew the notion - dammit, we know what we know and what is and what isn’t - I’d remind you that at one time the best and brightest minds knew for a fact that Earth was the centre of the universe. Looking back, how foolish we were then…

Having been idly wondering lately what I should be doing with my website - what I could talk about, what I should focus on, how often I should post, the best way to do whatever it is I decide to do, etc. - I’ve finally decided that the very least I can do is post regularly (as I can’t in all honesty see doing it daily) on what I’m doing with writing. Well… really, I guess the “least I can do” is ignore the site completely and drink whilst playing Wii, but you get the point. It seems simple enough, particularly given the concept of having a site in the first place years ago was to promote my writing. I’ve tried to do this before, but not with any real determination to make it stick. Well, consider me determined.

In that light, a new update: in one of my pitches today involving a werewolf screenplay - and there are some of you who will doubtless know precisely the one I mean - I was told by the rep that he was going to pas on it; that werewolves aren’t a big seller; that in part it’s because vampires are sexy (and werewolves, the implication concluded, weren’t). And I certainly understand the point. I’ve tied vampires and sexiness together since Christopher Lee played Dracula, and there’s been no lack of underscoring the point in the many years since.

I asked him about New Moon, the Meyer book/pending movie that involves werewolves in a broader storyline which has females from high school to retirees getting hot under the collar. He countered, fairly, by pointing out that yes, that one story involves werewolves, but it’s really in an overarching - and initiated - story involving sexy vampires. I had to grant him the point.

But the more I thought about the comment through the day, the more I wondered: why can’t werewolves be sexy?

It’s true there would seem to be more innate sexy characteristics to vampires: they’re often from a bygone (romantic) era, and have gaunt (nay, chiseled) features, intense eyes, oddly ubiquitous athletic figures… all of course just too much for the enthralled females to resist; who fight off dark temptations but ultimately succumb, offering up their thrusted (bosoms and) necks to be feasted on.

HOT.

Werewolves, though, are by nature beastial. Maybe even as much animal as human. And could it not be sexy to give in to animal instincts, particularly when it comes to sex (or steamy, sensual innuendos thereof)? The alpha male: a dominant male figure protecting those under his care, including the females, who knows his needs must be fulfilled. And you want to talk convincing cases for lean, athletic figures? Werewolves are finely tuned creatures of action: they hunt, they chase, they fight, they kill…

And on a personal note, I’d like to say that since I first saw American Werewolf In London, likely at too early an age, I can no longer hear Van Morrison’s “Moondance” without thinking of the sex scene. That kind of thing makes an impression on a (young) guy, and the impression is that werewolves can damn well be sexy when presented the right way. That, and that sex looks really interesting.

So, I’ve taken the rep’s causal comment as a challenge. I’m officially taking on the task of writing a sexy story about werewolves. And not just via descriptions of hot men and women who happen to be werewolves standing around looking good and having sex (although…), but by giving the whole thing a genuinely sexy vibe. Which will prove interesting, as I’ve never really done much geared that way. But then, it wouldn’t be a challenge if it was easy. You know… by it’s nature.

No idea what form the story will take, and no promises about when it will be completed, but if it’s the last thing I do (and it may be), the story will be written.

Talk soon.

“Well it’s a marvelous night for a moondance
with the stars up above in your eyes.
A fantabulous night to make romance
‘neath the cover of October skies…”

All cards on the table. I don’t like pitching. I get its use - encapsulating an idea in order to save the both writer and production companies/reps time in knowing whether or not it’s something that may be production-worthy - but I’m really not a fan of it.

Here’s my thing: I got into writing screenplays because my best friend suggested that since I’m a visual thinker (still true) and enjoyed writing (ditto), why not work toward a visual medium and write screenplays? Brilliant! So, many years later, here I sit, having written several screenplays, and over the last few years also getting into TV show concepts, development, and episode writing. All while working on short stories and haikus and book ideas and game concepts and whatever else srtikes me from one day to the next, of course. Take it from one who knows: inside my head is never a boring place to be.

But the point is that screenplays and teleplays allow me to take the story visions I have and present them in a form which will, ideally, become a visual medium. And to have to pitch that not only removes the material one more generation from its intended form - a vision forced into written words, and then those written words re-formed into vastly truncated verbal ones which strive to convey the whole original vision - but also puts me in the uncomfortable position of having to be the proactive one in talking to people I don’t know. And not only has that never been a happy place for me, but worse still, I’m sitting there squirming to lay out part of myself - my stories - for the close scrutiny of these people.

Meanwhile there’s part of me saying hey, I’m an award-winning writer (albeit of severely modest degree). I know for a fact that at its best, my writing can convey more power and emotion than I’ll ever be able to manage while sitting and trying to convince someone else of its merits. Writing about music is like dancing about architecture, as the saying goes. And verbally pitching about writing strikes me the same way: it’s one artform striving to relay another. Two very different disciplines that have been intertwined, and where failure at one could so easily result in the other never being seen at all, quality be damned.

Had I mentioned I’m not a fan?

In any case, I’m happy to say that despite the frayed nerves and buckets of sweat the day produced, Pitch Expo 2009 was generally a success for me. Not everyone I pitched to seemed huge on the various stuff I was offering up, but more did… and some just loved it. And it’s with thanks I offer a tip of my proverbial hat to the reps who went above and beyond the call to not only hear me out and seem encouraging, but also offer advice on how I could build on what I’ve got. In one particular case, this opened up a whole new world of possibilities for me to mull over and pair up with current (and future) TV series ideas, hopefully making future pitches (*sigh*) stronger.

Another cool aspect of events like this is bringing an ecclectic group of people together who form new relationships. And luckily, with most people in the world being more comfortable at breaking the ice than I am, several people took the first step and introduced themselves, or asked how my day had gone, or how such’n such a prodco rep seemed when I pitched, etc. To all of them I’d like to say a big thanks for being the ones to make the first move. I’m hoping you all got the (accurate) impression that I’m happy to talk once I get to know you a bit, but that making the first move to that end just isn’t my forte. Which of course may have something to do with my take on pitching…

In any case, a special thanks to Josh, Meryl, Kelly/Kaz, Jesse, and Yolanda. Glad to have met all of you (in Jesse’s case, again). What mutual writing benefits may come of the new relationships are one thing, but a good friend recently pointed out to me how important family and friends are in life. Here’s hoping we can all improve each other’s lives by staying in touch.

So the race to be Toronto’s next mayor has begun. It was after David Miller folded and gave in to the Toronto Outside Workers Union’s recent strike demands - they who were on strike, who kept public pools closed, kept the island ferry shut down, and kept garbage from being picked up for several long, stinky weeks - that I’d concluded that his days as mayor were numbered. Not only would I be hard-pressed to name even one thing he’s done to benefit the city, but his standing firm against the union’s demands, having the bulk of the city’s population behind him, only to finally buckle and give the union most everything they wanted anyway, would seem to be his career’s death knell.

However, even more surprising than his giving into union demands after putting the city through weeks of smelly discomfort (and in the process losing untold millions from tourists who had caught wind of the city’s garbage woes and went elsewhere with their summer vacation dollars) was the announcement I heard last week: David Miller is throwing his hat into the ring and looking for re-election.

I’ve no idea who the other contenders are, but failing their being extremists or people with personal agendas the public finds particularly unpalatable, all I can say to you in your seeking another term, Mr. Miller, is good damn luck.

In the near future, the war against the machines is well under way. Skynet, once the latest answer to U.S. defense, has become self-aware and, believing humans are a threat to its existence, has begun systematically killing them. There are pockets of resistance, of course - groups of humans banding together to use whatever weaponry is available to fight back; to even just stay alive. One man stands apart from the others in this fight, believed by some through his actions and by others as destiny that he will be the person who will lead mankind to its victory over the machines. His name is John Connor.

While there were some good aspects to Terminator: Salvation, the unshakable feeling I had when leaving the theatre was that for all its hype, for all the money that the franchise had access to in order to do this right and knock it out of the park, it hadn’t been done as well as it could’ve on various fronts.

***BIG, FAT SPOILER WARNING***

To its credit, it is generally pretty well shot and acted, though for more than just me, second fiddle Sam Worthington (who plays Marcus Wright, a convict put to death years ago only to find himself alive again as a half-machine Skynet product) outshined lead man Christian Bale.
Then we get to logical issues. Allowing for the suspension of disbelief one must go into the movie with - followers of the series will remember that a terminator wrapped in real muscle and skin travels back in time to kill John Connor’s mother before the child is even conceived, and the soldier sent back to protect the mother has not only been sent back by John Connor himself, but ends up becoming his father, leading to one of Hollywood’s more memorable time-travel paradoxes - there are simply things that don’t make sense. A stories-tall terminator apparently sneaks up on a shack full of people (who it catches unaware, yet makes an awful racket after the initial surprise). And perhaps the most blatant logical issue: why the young Kyle Reese - the man who will eventually be sent back by John Connor to protect Connor’s mother, and who will end up being Connor’s father - doesn’t question a resurrected Marcus Wright when Wright shows up out of the blue, bewildered about the state of the world and asking questions that any human would know (”What was that [terminator]? What happened to the world? What year is it?”)
And finally, perhaps the biggest flaw in the writing for me is that for all the effort that Marcus puts into saving people and helping the humans (and Connor specifically), for all his human-ness despite being half machine, we find out toward the climax that Kyle has been a pawn of Skynet used to lure John Connor to Skynet’s headquarters (in his trying save Kyle Reese, as Connor feels he’s destined to) in order to finally kill him.
So let me understand: Skynet “built” Marcus in order to send him into the wild in order to find the resistance in order to make Connor trust him enough to bring Connor to Skynet to save Reese, all to kill Connor. Why, pray tell, wasn’t Marcus also programmed to simply kill Connor if given the opportunity? Most noteworthy here is one scene in particular where Connor is outside the compound on his own and is out of heavy ammo and is about to get jumped by an eel-like terminator that will surely try to kill him and… ? It’s stopped by Marcus at the last moment! Whew! Close call for Connor, who now finally has real reason to trust who and what Marcus is! Yes… or, alternately, had Marcus been programmed to let Connor be killed should such a chance present itself, he could’ve just stayed out of the way and let it happen.
Skynet is a machine. It thinks logically, so why would it not take any and all opportunities (as it seems to have done so far) to end the life of its one primary target, the only man it believes could stop it? Perhaps my old high school teacher could make some improvements to Skynet with a couple of programmed if/then statements.

At its best, Terminator: Salvation is well written, well shot, and well acted. At its worst, it has logic and plot holes you could drive a truck through. In the end, it works pretty well as an action movie, but as the final piece to the Terminator series puzzle, unfortunately leaves too much to be desired to be a truly satisfying Terminator movie.

This was the movie I was most looking forward to seeing this year, yet even notching it up for its decent action, I’d rate it a disappointing 7/10.

Earth follows Disney’s decades-long tradition of shooting footage of nature and letting the visuals tell their own stories, though in this case the narration by James Earl Jones guides us along the way. Following myriad animals as the seasons change all around the world, the film focuses on three animal familes in particular over the course of a year: polar bears, whales, and elephants. We share some of their first steps in the open, their trials of having to travel for hundreds or thousands of miles to find food and survive, and the triumphs of making it there alive, though as we’re shown, the circle of life can often be cruel on the journey.

The film is simply stunning in its cinematography and close-up detail of nature, to the point where I often wondered how a cameraman could possibly have gotten close enough to get some of the shots, along with the realization that cameras - including satellites - must have been placed for weeks or months at a time to get the fast-motion growth, flows of colour across fields of trees, and ice forming at the ends of the world. All the while, the accompanying narration by Jones is ideally minimalist, informative, and at times, playful.

If there’s one negative to the film, it would be the unexpected time spent on the struggle for life. Yes, it’s a nature movie and so it should fairly have both life and death portrayed, but as the prime example, the three slow-motion shots of a great white jumping from the water to snap a seal in its jaws seemed excessive (although, as ever, very well shot). Particularly with the polar bear family, the film edged a bit closer to the “climate change is causing these animals to have to adjust, and in adjusting, they’re suffering and dying” than I’d been expecting, particularly for a Disney film. Having said that, the point certainly did come across effectively, if perhaps a bit heavy-handedly. That was the only issue I had with an overall amazing film.

In short, simply a must-see for nature lovers, animal lovers, and those who can appreciate gorgeous, stunning film making. Young and old alike should definitely check it out when it hits theatres this Wednesday, Earth Day, April 22nd.