Gossip Girl's Mid-Season Finale was SPECTACULAR (spoilers)

It became clear Serena and Nate belong together.

That Dan's climb out of Vanessa's friend zone isn't as smooth as it looks.

That Jenny is F*ING badass (I love the growth of this character over the coarse of the three seasons!). And Eric really has lost her.

That Rufus is just as much of a boor and Lily a slut as before. Which is actually kind of refreshing--it's about time people's parents started being bad again, instead of drippy, rich fairy godparents.

My only problem:
The writers (so far, anyway) seem to have no idea what to do with Chuck and Blaire.

Blaire trying to find herself in college could be/started out as a fascinating storyline, and a surprisingly relateable one. But the show has since pulled back, I suspect because someone didn't know what they'd find when they scratched beneath her East Side persona, and were scared to experiment, seeing as she's the heart of the show. BUT it's ridiculous to think she *wouldn't* change, and frankly, everyone else has--she now seems like an artifact of season one. Though in season one, they actually gave her a fair amount of depth.

Chuck is apparently now Mr. Good Guy, which I hate. No, he doesn't have to be on drugs constantly. And yes, it's interesting (in theory) that he basically gave up the drinking once his dad died. But his "growth" hasn't seemed at all organic. For one, nobody has ever asked him about his drinking, which I'm sad about--set up, set up, set up, and yet no punch. And for another--why has his personal philosophy of life completely changed? They attempted to answer it last night--he was trying to become his father--BUT he also wasn't acting at all like his father, in any way other than being into business.

He seemed like a pile of wasted opportunity for much of the season, but the last couple episodes have really turned my stomach:

1. when he kicked the diplomat's son out of the hotel and "rescued" Jenny from him, because the son was a drug dealer. COME ON! For one, *kicked him out*?! Even if Chuck's not into drugs anymore, that seems like a ridiculously indiscreet business move. And it wasn't handled ironically, like this is something an overcompensating kid would do--no, it was handled as though it were the correct move!

2. He basically tells Jenny to just say no?! THAT was a lost opportunity--here's a character who is famously inarticulate about himself, but who gave up drugs apparently cold turkey just a few episodes ago, and he doesn't tell Jenny (of the vastly complicated step-sibling relationship) WHY?! Why drugs might be a bad idea for her, why she should be careful with that guy, why it's retarded to sell drugs at a bar instead of in a private residence? NO INSIGHT?!

And at the end of the episode, it turns out HIS MOTHER IS ALIVE? On the one hand, yes could be interesting seeing his eternal quest for a parent continue...but on the other hand, it feels SO cheap.

If the writers are interested in the parent thing re: Chuck, maybe they should deal with that in his relationship with Blaire. God knows they don't know what else to do with the two of them! Actually, Blaire being really into control and Chuck being super insecure and constantly looking for guidance COULD be really interesting...though I don't know how deep this show would be willing to go into its characters' inner lives.

So, all goes well except for my two favorite characters. It seems as though the writers are at loose ends with those two, though I don't know why. Otherwise, the show is so incredibly taut and well structured, it's always a little intimidating to watch.

But I'll keep doing it somehow :P

Matchmaker

My writing sample should be around 40 pages.

Those forty pages should include two stories.

Complete stories are better than excerpts because stories show the author can handle structure, and excerpts (by definition, seeing as you *should* need the rest of the novel to understand them) don't.

So, I wrote a story that felt right.

The structure and language were fairly good, but the characterization and plotting (since those two are enmeshed, I suppose) weren't.

I changed the characterization.
Tried, and failed to change the plot.
Thought about the theme.
Changed the plot.

Now I'm in a pretty good place with that story. It's dark but not overly graphic.

The other one is based on an excerpt. Though the characters/backstory/setting are different, the plot of this chapter has stayed the same since it was a manuscript section.

I rethought the characters and backstory, and changed bits of the plot.
The language is doing all right.
But it's not really coming together. And now that I've basically memorized it, I'm having trouble editing.

I'm not in a BAD place with the story, but not (yet?) in a good one. It's graphic but not quite as dark as Story 1.

The problem I'm having is with these stories as a pair. When trying to show my range, shouldn't I try to show two different tones? I'm worried that both of these stories are too dark, and that the groups of characters are too similar. The plots aren't even all that different.

That happens to me a lot when I work on two pieces at once--they feed off one another, which is a good thing, but they also echo one another, which isn't.

Anyway, the two pieces together are about ten pages too long. That's especially a problem for places with a *THIRTY* page limit, where I absolutely can't turn in fifty pages of material.

So I started thinking about ANOTHER excerpt that I think is fairly stand alone. It's got a MUCH lighter, almost screwball tone. The characters are much different from the ones I present in Story 1 (which is definitely going in the sample). So, it would make a better match/juxtapose better with Story 1 than Story 2 does, right?

Only I think that Story 2 is more complete than this excerpt, and is more character-centric. Since Story 1 is relatively heavy on plot, Story 2 being heavy on character is important to me.

Another thing to consider, however, is that what I'm seeing as "character heavy" is in actuality angsty-undergrad writing, which has been a struggle for me to leave behind.

As it is now, I think I'll be submitting Story 1 and the Excerpt. Together, they'll be 30-40 pages. I think their plot and tone contrasts make them a better pair. I think they're more mature stories than Story 2 is. For the places which allow longer samples, I may include Story 2, but probably not.

Still, it makes me sad to see Story 2 left behind, after so much work on it. And worried, because though I *think* replacing it with Excerpt is clear-sightedness, it may be a loss of nerve.

Bah. We'll see how my Beta(s) feel. It's so hard for me to see my own work clearly! Does that ever get easier?

Cut the Creatures and Cue the Social Conflict

So this story I’ve got with these weird vampire creatures?

I think the creatures were just stand-ins for the actual cultural problems I wanted to talk about, but which I was still too ignorant to discuss.

The creatures weren’t really around much, except at the climax. Otherwise it’s a pretty realistic story—or at least, non-supernatural.

When I gave the story to my critique partner, she said I needed to foreshadow the creatures more. I agreed, so I tried to bring them into other parts of the story. But then I stayed away from the thing for a week or so while I worked on something else…and when I came back, I realized the reason I couldn’t put the creatures anyplace new was because they were just place-holders.

So, I’ve been doing research into the region in which the story takes place (The Democratic Republic of Congo), as well as neighboring countries (namely, Rwanda). I’d started out wanting to write a story set in Africa because I love reading stories set there. Problem was/is, I don’t know much about the continent—just as much as any layman American does, I’d guess.

Thing is, even if I’m an ignoramus about the continent, many (most?) people aren’t. It’s important to get my information as correct as possible. And while I don’t think it’s necessarily the cheap and easy route for a story to go for magical (realism), it was in this case—instead of finding out more about the actual world my story was taking place in, I substituted fake stuff.

Which was doubly stupid both because the real world is more interesting and more complex than my fake one AND because that complexity and richness was the specific reason I was drawn to stories set there. If I wanted to write a fantasy story about vampire creatures, why not put them in a familiar (to me) locale? Why set a story in the Congo and then not make it AT ALL CONGOLESE? It seemed like a waste. Of course, it was only in draft three that I realized how I was setting up something very interesting (a story about wildlife exploitation and ownership in the Congo) and then transforming it into something quite boring (a story about fake-ass vampires).

So, on to the research—which has already been helpful in my re-imagining the climax, and the theme of the story. I like how both my current stories are turning out, but JESUS CHRIST, I’m on draft one million of both of them. Or rather, draft three.

I always thought I did a lot of drafts, but looking at it now, it seems that I just did an awful but very labor-intensive second draft of all my work, then stopped in disgust. Re-writing really is reimagining, and it really is where the story takes shape. I'll never stop before Draft 5 again!

Earnestness, the Quest

There is a blog I like (zunguzungu) written by an academic. This academic uses lots of post-modern-generator-type language which sometimes makes me worry: Am I smart enough for this blog? But he has a very specific point of view, and thinks everything through thoroughly, so I'm always up for trying to get his take.

Anyway, recently he had a picture of this man with huge black glasses, a gap-tooth, gold ring, and goatee. Next to the picture ran an arrogant yet out of touch personal ad. And I guess we're supposed to laugh at the funky man and his funky attempt at human connection. At first I did, anyway.

But seeing the picture again, I can't help but feel a huge tug of tenderness for this person. It's like the feeling I get when I see people's socks. Socks are so innocent; people wear them to protect their shoes and make their feet comfortable. Nobody but the person wearing those socks give a shit whether they're there or not. Socks remind me of all the things people do in order to face the world every day, and when I see them I melt a little.

Once you start paying attention to people, it's tough to be mean to them. When you think of Person X carefully pulling on his socks, doing his laundry, taking his vitamins, hoping his friends will call, missing the subway--when you think of all the hope and effort it took to get Person X here with you at this moment, it's hard to be a bitch and let him know that all that effort is just going to get him pain and humiliation. Which I guess is why everyone loves the long American Psycho montage of Patrick getting ready in the morning? On the one hand, it's easy to make fun of the care he takes with his body, since he doesn't take care of anything else...but it also humanizes him and establishes him as the main character.

This post is not a personal reminder to show my characters waking up and dressing in the morning. It is a reminder, however, to feel tenderness toward them. All we see are the action movie goons getting shot, but somewhere (in our imagination) they all have mothers being crushed and apartments that now need cleaning out and half-written manuscripts that will now be burned.

So in my writing today: tenderness in, brutality out. I think it'll make my work deeper and truer.

Note to Self: CLIMAX

Today is a big improvement over yesterday, because today, both my stories have (some) middle.

Today is terrible when compared to tomorrow, however, because today neither of my stories have climaxes.

STORY B NEEDS:

--A hook (or at least a stronger one. Draft 3 is a VAST improvement over Draft 2, but this story's sense of self--my sense of why it's special--isn't really there yet...it doesn't have a thesis statement).

--Better Characters (they still feel half drawn).

--More punch in the moments leading up to the climax (as is, the climactic image itself is pretty cool, and I know where I'm going after, but that final moment that zooms the tension up to where it needs to be? Not great).

STORY B NEEDS:

--A middle (I love the beginning, which is actually the first half. But now I have that midpoint reversal, and don't know what it reverses. Or rather, I know what happens to the "story" (the characters) but not the "plot" (their obstacles).

I still think Story B is much stronger than Story A, because I have more of a sense what it's about. So today, I want to do some research on the part of Africa where Story B takes place, so I'll (!) hit on a more interesting and meaningful complication than I have currently. And today, I'm going to re-print the first two-thirds of Story A's third draft and try to figure these people and their situation out.

Both stories, right now, are taking me deeper into their souls.

My main question now: can I go into two at once? I've always been a natural monogomist.

Trompe d'Oeil

Last night I watched an episode of Sex Rehab with Dr. Drew. And I'm not going to lie: I watch Vh1 and MTV and Bravo and all those shows everyone makes fun of.

Well, not the Hills anymore. But all the others.

Anyway, this show is fascinating. And I was trying to figure out why.

Last time I couldn't understand why a story was compelling, it was because the main character was in an unsolvable dilemma with his/her humanity at stake. Maybe that's true for Sex Rehab, too.

But I think it's because of the honesty.

On drug rehab and on all the Desperate Housewives of (Insert City), the cast is all brain-fried, drunk, or unbearably self-conscious. Everything feels very fake. I thought this show would be the same, but the combination of smart people with enforced sobriety has made it what Big Brother always wished it could be.

And while watching it, I think I learned the actual meaning of authenticity and honesty. It's been my mission for a while in my writing to be as authentic and as "me" as possible. But that seemed like a vague and unreachable goal. Now, I wonder if all that requires is earnestness.

There are three people on the show that I'm fascinated by:

Duncan (film director) and Jennie (dominatrix). At first, I thought I enjoyed watching them so much because they were (are) quick witted and funny. But now I think it's because they seem so earnest about concentrating only on their mission (to connect to people in a healthy way) and to finally become themselves. That's it--whether they *are* being themselves or not, they seem to be *trying* to be themselves always. Watching both of these people come to realizations on the show is 1. a lesson in the inadequacies of acting (when these people look sad, they look sad in a way I've only before seen on documentaries on subjected women in China, for God's sake--they are sad with all of themselves). 2. the importance of being earnest.

James (surfer). He looks like he's ill, barely speaks, and his actions don't seem linked at all to common sense. But when I saw the episode last night, one thing really struck me. The producers finally decided to show some one-on-one time between him and the therapists/producers, and during that time, James talked about how nothing bad had ever really happened to him except that he slept with apparently every women who would have him (losing friends in the process) and that his mother punished him when he deserved it. Of course, this being TV in the era of Law and Order: SVU, the therapists immediately ask, "Punish you how?" and James talks about throwing things, etc, and about how he lost his virginity early (not to her, lol). Anyway, every time he says something weird, like about his mother throwing a knife at him or having lots of sex at age eleven, the therapists look weirded out and ask him how he feels about that in hindsight. The thing about James is it seems he has no hindsight at all.

When he says his mother threw a machete at him, for example, he *immediately* says that he probably deserved it. And looks embarrassed and sad while he admits it. The therapist says, "what could a kid do to deserve getting a knife thrown at him?" and James can't come up with anything. When they ask, "would you ever throw a knife at a little kid," of course, he says no. The whole time, he's constantly leaping to the defense of everyone else: the older kids and adults he had sex with in his early adolescence, his mother, whomever. Why?! He seems completely unself-aware.

How did he end up composing this completely chaotic narrative for himself--that people treated him badly or at least inappropriately because he looked like he could take it? How did he look back at his whole life and think of it as a million unconnected episodes in which he just happened to be around confused people?

I think of everything as a narrative, and it's obvious that most of the people on the show do, too. For instance, on the same episode, Duncan sees a therapist who says he's probably re-acting the same scene with men now that he began as a child...and Duncan seems to think that's perfectly plausible and even enlightening. But then, they show James, wholeheartedly leaping to the defense of anyone he's ever met, while finding himself in this horrible position (bizarre and alone)...how does this man think about time? How does he make goals for himself? How does he relate to others? How does he think about himself.

When he immediately said that he probably deserved getting a machete thrown at him, it was what would have been a "telling detail" if he were a character in a script or story. It's fascinating watching something so messy, like James's sense of self, and inserting it into the neat box of art: this was foreshadowing, that was a telling detail, the whole show is his climax, and soon we'll find a sort of resolution....

Putting someone who sees his life entirely outside the realm of narrative, and then editing it *into* a narrative arc....

Wow. So, is storytelling inherently dishonest? I've always thought the narrative of what could have or should have happened is, in its way, *more* truthful than a plain recitation of the facts. But maybe narrative *is* all fake.

Ok, utterly confused now. Which is honesty: James's episodic and chaotic thoughts on the world, or Duncan's self-aware narrative arc?

beginnings are beautiful, but all i want is a fucking end

So, now I'm back and the deadline for my two MUST BE PERFECT short stories is fast approaching (as well as my MUST BE PERFECT play) and I'm--what?!--writing a proposal for a non-fiction book.

Why can't I finish anything?

Every time I get near the end of a third draft, every time the finish line even SEEMS to glimmer in the distance BOOM "inspiration" strikes.

Would it be any less procrastination if I were bathing my cat or making a three-hour dinner or chatting on the telephone? I'm starting to suspect that I won't ever finish a goddamn thing.

What's wrong with me? Why can I get 80% there with each of these projects, and why is it so hard for me to complete the final steps? Why can't I say THIS is the ABSOLUTE BEST I can do?

Now that the semi-finalist notification process must be winding down, I'm realizing I probably didn't get a T.V. fellowship this year...which is OK--I was a first-time T.V. scriptwriter, and a first-time applicant. Still, losing burns. And I keep looking back at that script and thinking: I could still make it better.

No matter that it's the most complete thing I've got. And that applying was so important to me because I hadn't finished any of my projects in so long before that. And that my TV scripts are not my priority right now.

There are so many things I want to write--too many things. On the one hand, they all weigh (so heavily!) on me, begging to be made beautiful. But on the other hand, I feel so great when I'm only beginning a project, when it feels so magical that I keep going back to get that rush...and then I end up feeling even more burdened by before!

Ok, so what I'm saying is: I've got to be strong minded. I've got to keep my priorities in check. I've made a six-month schedule, and I'm sticking to it GODDAMN IT because I can't stand this horrible newly-clothed-emperor feeling of working so hard for years and having nearly nothing but "draft zeroes."

Guess this is a pep-talk? Against procrastination disguised as productivity? For sticking to a life plan?

How did I become someone with a rock fucking solid LIFE PLAN?!