The Beauty of the Book

Borders Bookstore chain is closing.  Over ten thousand people are losing their jobs, publishers are taking a huge hit as Borders fails to pay them money it owes, authors' print runs are shrinking (see a great NPR article here with the deets), but for me it's another sign of the death of the beauty of the book.

Reading will survive, of course. Books will continue to be written and read, perhaps even in greater numbers, as ebooks take over and almost all sales eventually shift to one electronic form or another.  That's the most important thing, I suppose.  (Well, the lives the Borders employees affected by this are probably the most important thing, really. But you see where I'm going.)

But I can remember going into Tower Records and holding my first Beatles LP in my hands. It sent a visceral thrill through me that downloading an mp3 on ITunes simply cannot duplicate.  The music was tangible, real, in my hands. The cover (it was Live at the Hollywood Bowl) had what looked like actual tickets to the concert on it.  I could imagine holding those tickets in my sweaty little hand as I joined my screams with the other girls at the concert.

Getting a page to print up with an electronic ticket in my email for concerts today does not generate that excitement.  Burning my own cds or watching files download from MySpace sites after I buy a file does not make my toes vibrate with love and passion the way holding this album cover did.

So it goes with books.  I still have some of my first books - the Oxford Book of Nursery Rhymes, Now We are Six by A.A. Milne.  I wrote in those books. I circled words I liked and tried to spell out my name on the inside cover. I can still see my four year old scrawl and my five year old comments in these books.  When I hold them now I remember with sudden swift vividness how it felt to recite "Bad King John" with my Dad as he held the book in front of me.

Kids can't circle words on their iPads today. Or if they do, the circles don't stay.  When they get older they won't see the wear and tear of the years on the "pages" of their Kindle editions, or remember how they smeared chocolate on the blank back pages of their Nook while they read House at Pooh Corner. 

And the smell of a new book!  The ivory gleam of pages ruffling through your fingers as you estimated how much further till Nancy Drew unraveled the Mystery of the Old Clock.  To enter a bookstore was to enter a cathedral of story.  To touch the spines of those books was to come into contact with a hundred new ideas, a thousand new adventures.  If you saw another kid eagerly reading a pink book with an octopus on the cover, you could hunt for that book yourself by spotting that distinctive shade of magenta on the shelf.  You can't do that by looking at the back of an iPad.

But Borders is closing.  And printed books are a dying breed.  A few afficionados will remain, and a few bookstores will live on by catering to collectors, the same way vinyl records still sell a few copies to those who want a multi-level experience when buying music.

This to me is a tragedy.  Reading will  live on, thank goodness.  But the visceral connection to the word will die.  Maybe it means more people will read books, and that is something to celebrate.  But I'm in mourning for the "real" book.  And for all those people who lost their jobs.

Updated to add: Just to be clear - I'm pro-ebook, pro-Kindle, Nook, e-reader, etc. Reading is fabulous, regardless of the means.  I just wish the rise of one method didn't have to mean the death of the other. 

Maybe It Once Kissed A Pomegranate

Life has been a bit nutty lately in ways that I can't blog about because it all involves other people whose privacy I will not violate.

But I am sorry I haven't blogged much lately.  I feel like my writing is finally starting to go somewhere, then I don't have enough time, or sometimes, enough energy to blog/tweet/Facebook to share stuff with people and move forward on it.  Oh well.  Plenty of time ahead left for self marketing, right?  Sometimes you just have to deal with what's right in front of you.

Then a story like this one on Yahoo News catches my eye, and my imagination runs riot.  That's how it works for me. An archaeologist finds a tiny golden bell that once adorned someone's robe in a sewer in Old Jerusalem, and my imagination takes over.

Whose robe once tinkled with this bell?  A priest in a holy procession?  A wealthy woman on her way to see her lover?  Did the owner of this bell realize the moment when it was lost, when it fell from the robe and bounced into the sewer? Did Jewish rebels, using those sewers to flee Roman legions while their beloved city and temple were razed back in 70 AD sneak past where that golden bell lay in the muck?  Did a rat once mistake it for food down there?  The Bible describes priestly garments being adorned with such bells, hanging between decorative pomegranates. Does this bell remember the pomegranate it once kissed? If it could speak, could we hear the ancient sermons it listened to?

This is why I love archaeology and history.  It makes me think about the people of those times - about their losses and loves, their tragedies and transcendent moments.  It's been a rough week or year or decade for the world. Madmen take the lives of innocents, children starve while politicians create unnecessary roadblocks to progress, temperatures rise, polar bears can't swim far enough, self hatred leads to self destruction, illness strikes, and frightened people hurt others because they know no other way.

In the past this all happened too. They were people like us (okay, maybe with worse teeth and shorter lifespans), and their stories are now gone, except for hints like this little golden bell. It's left to us to imagine and remember.

The Book I've Waited For

It's not often I go to the bookstore the day a book is released especially to get it. But I did it today for George R.R. Martin's A Dance With Dragons.  Ohohoho! You betcha.

I don't think I've done that since the previous book in this series, A Feast For Crows, came out. That was November 8, 2005.  I waited nearly six years for Dragons.  People asked me if I'd wait to buy it so I could get it when George R.R. Martin (the author) is in town at the end of the month, signing books.

Wait two more weeks?  Hell, no.  I might go see Martin at the signing, but no way I'm waiting till then to read his book.

People asked me if I'd wait to get it in paperback.

Wait MONTHS???  Eff that and eff you. You don't get it.

It's not very often I get all passionate and crazy about anything.  I did it more often as a teenager, of course.  But I was never the sort to stand in long lines for things or to get autographs or to collect stuff.

So when I stand in line, when I rush to buy, when I go the extra mile to get/read/watch/meet/listen to something or someone, you know I love it with every fiber of my little soul.

Which is why I didn't buy this on Kindle, despite its enormous size.  Reading a book this fat on a Kindle would be much easier on the hands and arms.  But some books you need to be able to touch, to pour over the maps, to sniff the paper and the glue and feel the embossing on the caver.  All that, plus the amazingly good writing, pull me completely into another world.

And this way I can lend it out when I'm done.  That's what I did with the earlier books in the series. And I converted a bunch of folks in the process. 

Don't get me wrong - read this on a Kindle or Nook or whatever you like.  I don't care.  I prefer the hard copy.  But if you like fantasy at all, just read it.  Well, read the first one Game of Thrones first.

And if that's not your cup of tea, then find something you love and run your hands over its embossing.  A little passion is good for the little soul.

I love movies. I love travel. In fact, I'm a total geek about such things.

Now there's an app called Augmented Reality Cinema that pleases the movie/travel geek in me very very much. I haven't downloaded it yet, but I shall! You need to see it to believe it, but it allows you to view clips from movies that had scenes shot right where you're standing.

Sheesh, in LA I could walk out my door and spend hours watching clips shot in my neighborhood, I bets ya.

A demonstration, below.



And yes, I now have a smartphone, my first. That in itself is a hint to you of the big things to come...

Obscure Hints Galore

Verbal hint: my website will soon have a new look.

Obscure visual hint:

Sort of a Hint

The mood in this one isn't quite right for it to be a true hint. But I just love the artist Michael Sowa.

Want to see more of his work?  Check out the video below:



His animals have such rich inner lives. Everything he does hints at a larger story. I can't even begin to pick a favorite.

Another Hint: Big News on the Horizon

Yep.  Until I can spill it.  Here's another relevant image:

The Biggest Hint of All

Tiger on the Watch, by Jean-Leon Gerome, 1888.

More soon.

Another Hint

From artist Utagawa Kuniyoshi:

A Hint of Things to Come...

Not exactly this. But this very cool old illustration puts one in the proper mood...

Happy Summer!

Summer solstice today, and in LA the temperature's in the 80's and sunny.

As it should be.

This is the longest day of the year, and as a person who grew up in a state (Hawaii) where the days stayed pretty much the same length all year ('cause Hawaii's close to the equator) I have a strong love for this day. I still find it very odd to have daylight around 8pm. When I visited Ireland in August a few years back, I took photos without a flash at ISO 100 at 10pm at night. To me, this is miraculous!

In ancient Egypt, the summer solstice marked not only the day the sun was at its highest, but the beginning of the all-important inundation of the Nile.  In their mythology, it was at this time that the sun god Horus defeated his uncle Set, Lord of Darkness.

Which reminds me, lots brewing right now, writing-wise. Can't share, but it feels good to percolate. I am coffee! A strong, slightly bitter brew no doubt.

In Which My Tweet is Quoted at Ew.com

Did you see episode nine of Game of Thrones yet? If you have, you can see that I'm quoted in a (SPOILERIFIC) article at ew.com here.

If you haven't, don't waste time reading this. Go and watch, little grasshopper! Go now, I say!

I read the books by George R.R. Martin first, loved them, and was thrilled when HBO announced they were adapting them for cable TV.

And here's the thing. The series isn't perfect. But in some places it's actually better than the books. This is coming from a book lover, from one who has read all the books several times.

They proved it big time last night in episode nine, entitled "Baelor." Again, it wasn't perfect. Some of the exposition in the middle dragged a bit, although the acting and character work was as always fabulous.

Then they got to the final scene of the episode, a scene which, in the books, is infamous and celebrated amongst fantasy readers. I won't spoil it for you here, just in case you haven't seen the show or read the books. (Go do both! Now, fucking now!) But after I first read the scene, I literally sat there dumbfounded, mouth agape, for five minutes. It's bold, it's harsh, it's completely wonderful.

So I knew what to expect with this ep of the show. I knew it was coming. I was thrilled to see what they'd do with it, braced for the emotional impact.

It was far better than I ever could have dreamed.

How often does that happen? So I tweeted about it. Fifteen minutes after the east coast feed of the show ended, I tweeted. "I read the books. I knew it was coming. Still, it was shocking, horrific, and fantastic. #gameofthrones #baelor."

And ew.com used it in their article.

I'm too famous now to bother telling you more. *sniff*

Actually, I didn't gain a single twitter follower from it. But it was pretty cool just the same.

More Food For Thought on Blogging

A veddy interestink post by writer Kristen Lamb here about why you shouldn't blog just about writing if you're a writer.

The main reason? It limits your audience.

I've struggled along with what to blog about on this blog a bit. How focused on a topic should I be? How often to post?

So this sort of article from an expert is helpful.

1. Post three times a week. (Gulp.)

2. Write about stuff you like and that the general public likes. Throw promos for your book in there somewhere and make it feel organic, by gum.

Of course, I don't have a book to promote (yet!). And I do post about stuff I like - movies, Ancient Egypt, writing, travel. I haven't gotten up to three times a week. That's partly because I don't have anything to promote! Why bug people when you have little to offer?

Perhaps I shouldn't view my blog as "bugging" people, ey? Step #1.

One of the issues is that I work in an industry that makes things I love - TV and film. This is a good and lucky thing for me. But it means I can't really blog too freely about the product it produces. I can't rave about my fave TV shows too much or rant about ones that suck. I work with these people! That's not cool.

But I do love and can discuss things like: old movies, language, bodysurfing, travel, history, poetry, art, animals, RPGs, underdogs.

So I'll ponder how to make a blog identity out of some amalgalm of that.

My Favorite Movie in On

It's The Searchers and it's on AMC right now and I can't tear myself away except during the annoying commercials. I already own the dvd, which comes from an amazing print, but this is one of those movies, like Jaws or Casablanca, that when I catch a glimpse of it on TV, it ensnares me for hours.

I know folks have issues with it. They think it's racist. And indeed, John Wayne plays a racist bastard in the film. But the film thinks he's wrong. In fact, one of its major themes is that our entire country is based on racism. What else could've made us think we had the right to take it from the people who were here before us?

The movie's about other things too - vengeance, love, and how an old love can turn vengeance into forgiveness. But ultimately, the racist old blackguard played by Wayne can never be forgiven, can never be part of civilization. He made America possible, but he's too awful to ever be let inside. We wouldn't have to live with our terrible past, now would we?

The ending is justly famous. Wayne brings home the girl (young Natalie Wood) who had been kidnapped by Indians (I'll call them that here, not Native Americans, since that's how the movie refers to them), whom he had sworn to kill himself. He couldn't kill the daughter of the woman he loved, no matter how much he despised the fact that she's now "tainted" by living with Indian chief Scar. He saved her, redeemed himself, in a way. But it's not enough. It'll never be enough. As he said of the dead Indian who's eyes he shot out, he's doomed forever to wander between the winds.

Blogger won't let me post this widescreen (it's shot in 1.85), so it's best viewed here. Or see the slightly cropped version, below.

It used to be cool to be adult. To be sophisticated, witty, worldy, intelligent, insightful.  Nowadays the movies are full of people who all desperately want to be younger and dumber.  I don't get it.  This is the world I'd like to live in:

Why You Should Use Obvious Blog Post Titles for Search Optimization

... Because people rely on technology to find things for them on the internet, and tech doesn't "get" the cool, ironic, poetry-referencing title you used for your post.

I've been reading up on SEO (Search Engine Optimization), and I still have much to learn, but seriously, I'm considering retitling my blog. (Well, not really, but you get the idea.) If this blog were titled "How to Become a Successful Writer" it would be misleading as hell, but it would get me lots of hits.

Of course, you want folks to linger on your web page too. So don't mislead them, tempting as it may be! You need to offer up the goods you promised in the title, not only because it's the right thing to do, but because you need to get them to click on something, to go to the next page of your blogpost.

Which is why I need to figure out how to make you click on a link to read the rest of this post.

The Nape of Your Neck

I've been out of town for the past couple of weeks to help out with some family stuff. It's left me a bit drained and tired, a combo of jetlag and the dazed sort of "hunh?" feeling that comes from seeing people you love having difficult times.

So I haven't blogged or written much at all. I can feel the psychic hole that leaves somewhere near the base of my neck. That's the spot where the chills start, where the hair on your nape stands up when you spot a knee-meltingly hot man or you experience a mind-blowing moment in a story. So that's where I feel the absence, the lack, the void, when I don't write for awhile.

But things and people in my life are on the mend, and I'm back in my Hollywood homeland. My head is fuzzy with fatigue in the afternoons, despite the sunshine, but it can't stop buzzing about the idea for a TV Pilot burbling around in there, as well as three or four different ideas for the next novel.

Sometimes I like to draw out this anticipatory time before I plunge into the actual writing. Much of the writing process doesn't actually involve putting words on paper. Daydreaming is essential. Imagining scenes between your characters can spark plot ideas, inspiration, thematic insights, and on and on.

Jogging last night down Hollywood Boulevard, admiring the silhouettes of the palm trees against the darkening sky, I realized that in one of my ideas I was giving way too much plot to a minor character. I could easily give that activity to the main character. In fact, that activity made the main character much more interesting to me. It fleshed her out. Action = Character as we writers all know. What she does shows you who she is. So give her the cool stuff, for crying out loud, Nina!

So the daydreaming, mulling, fantasizing, all that is vital. If you sidestep it and plung into writing too soon, it can rob you of not only some of the fun of writing, but of some really good ideas.

Just keep in mind - this is the exhilarating part. Many people burble over with ideas. They offer them up to me like precious jewels, telling me I can turn them into books or scripts if I want.

I have to tell them then: ideas are the easy part. It's the writing that's hard. So don't put off the tough stuff of putting words on paper too long, or an idea is all you'll ever have.

So this weekend - writing will happen.

42 Third Act Plot Twists

I can't fit the entire image on my blog and still make it big enough to read. (Plus I don't want to steal something and make it look like my own.) So go to Desden Codak's website here and see his genius table of 42 Third Act Plot Twists.

I can't pick a favorite out of all of them, but I'm particularly fond of "Food Starts Eating People" and "Ancient Druids Lose Interest."

I'm tempted to write 42 stories and incorporate each one. Which one will you write?

Rock the Drop!

It's Teen Lit Day!

To celebrate and promote reading to teens, Readergirlz is promoting Rock the Drop - where folks attach the above bookplate to a YA book and leave it somewhere random for a lucky teen (or adult!) to find and read.

On twitter, authors and readers are tweeting photos of themselves leaving books everywhere from Panera to bus stops.  I'm printing up a bookplate and will let you know where my own contribution lands.

Interested in Rocking the Drop?  Check out Readergirlz, get a fave YA book, and do it!

Never Satisfied

I hope soon to post about how I got my agent, so that others will not despair in their own quests.

However, am a bit slammed - working the day job, family stuff, sleep, and trying to write a TV pilot.

I've got ideas for another YA book, but scripts are faster to write, and I think I've got an interesting pilot idea.  I hope to get a first draft down in another six weeks, depending on how crazy my already crazy life gets.

So, as is my usual wont, I'm taking a class to help along in this writing endeavor.  I favor mediabistro.com's classes - so far all three have been very much worth my while.  They feature professionals as teachers, who can pass on their real life experience as well as their more academic insights to their students.

My teacher in the TV Pilot writing class gave me a great insight I thought I'd share to any readers who either watch or write TV.  It's very simple, and maybe I'm simple for never quite seeing this before but...

In TV, the protagonist wants something they can never have.

Lightbulb!  I'm always thinking about my protag's desires and how active she is, and inner and outer goals and so on.  In books and films, usually the inner desire is fulfilled (in an unexpected way, hopefully) by the end.

But TV doesn't really end, does it?  You want an idea that a network will see possibly going five years, if not more.  So you must give your lead character a driving inner goal that can never be fulfilled. 

I just watched the ending of Big Love, and even before (spoiler alert!) Bill was killed, I kept thinking - he'll never get what he wants most, which is to live openly as a polygamist, in peace and harmony with his wives and society.  "How the heck can they end this?" I pondered.  They can't give him what he wants.  It just wouldn't be believable.  Sure enough, instead they got rid of Bill at the end.  That provided us with a conclusion without violating verisimilitude.

And think about it - all the most successful TV protagonists will never be satisfied.  Even the cops on shows like Law and Order and CSI have a driving desire for justice.  This can never be completely fulfilled because there will always be another murder to solve, another killer to find.

So I gave my protagonist an impossible goal that I think will work for the TV idea I have.  That's just one little step, but I think it helped me keep moving forward.

Do you have a desire that can never be fulfilled?  Atter all, life doesn't come to a conclusion either.