tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18562830942790903532024-03-13T19:38:47.790-07:00SieWorldDoing laps
in the L.A. fishbowlJames Siehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02368546657754244068noreply@blogger.comBlogger146125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1856283094279090353.post-25081468720080283492016-07-15T17:52:00.006-07:002016-07-15T17:52:58.104-07:00We're Moving on Up!<h3>
Hi all who have dropped in to this blog! Sound a little... empty? Hollow footsteps? Echoes? It's because I've moved! My blog is now in swanky new digs on my very own website: <a href="http://www.sieworld.com/">www.sieworld.com</a>. It's a central hub for all things... me. Acting, Writing, and Blog. Bells and whistles. Hope you'll check it out!</h3>
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<br />James Siehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02368546657754244068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1856283094279090353.post-59364920695949955812015-05-12T10:26:00.002-07:002015-05-12T10:32:07.795-07:00A Little Movie, then FREE BOOKS!<span style="font-size: large;">Forget about <i>Jurassic Park</i> and <i>Star Wars</i> and <i>Transformers 28: When Toasters Revolt</i>; the trailer of the summer is here:</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Mine!</span><br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="360" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/2mlvaomM1jA?rel=0" width="640"></iframe><br />
Yes, the trailer for <i>Still Life Las Vegas</i>, the one I worked on with Peter Hastings, where acclaimed Accordion Diva Gee Rabe dressed up and played for sweet music for us, has been officially introduced via St. Martin's Press. It was all kinds of swell to make; primarily because Peter did all of the work and I just got to spin chairs around and do the voiceover.<br />
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Better yet, there's a FREE BOOK giveaway linked to the trailer. Just scroll down the description part under the video on youtube and it <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/giveaway/show/138585-still-life-las-vegas-a-novel?ref=ru_lihp_up_gwr_0_mclk-up2342044614" target="_blank">links you to Goodreads</a>, which is doing the giveaway.<br />
The drawing will be on <b>June 11</b>, so there's plenty of time to get your entry in. There are 25 books they are handing out, so right now, the odds are pretty good!<br />
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James Siehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02368546657754244068noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1856283094279090353.post-81367387037038337802015-04-27T13:14:00.001-07:002015-04-27T17:38:32.312-07:00Adventures in Publishing: Blurbs and Lockdowns<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_dF4K-SW1BA/VT6XWF1TqUI/AAAAAAAAB68/L1zNk7dP1rM/s1600/strangers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_dF4K-SW1BA/VT6XWF1TqUI/AAAAAAAAB68/L1zNk7dP1rM/s1600/strangers.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: purple;"><i>This is especially true in publishing.</i></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Hi all! It's been a red-letter day today. </span>I started the morning from a Facebook message from rock star graphic novelist <a href="http://geneyang.com/" target="_blank">Gene Luen Yang</a> (writer of <i>Boxers/Saints</i> and <i>ABC: American Born Chinese</i>), someone whose books my son Ben and I <i>both</i> love (hey, <i>Boxers/Saints</i> got Ben interested in reading about HISTORY, so you know it's compelling). He had read an advance reader copy of my book <i>Still Life Las Vegas</i> and was kind enough to give me a great blurb to use on the jacket. Time and time again, I've been amazed at the <b>kindness of strangers,</b> who <br />
will give up their precious time to help a new author out by reading their work and (hopefully) liking it enough to lend their name. Many thanks to Gene, and y'all should read his most excellent work.<br />
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Next up, I discovered that a personal essay I submitted to the online magazine <a href="http://therumpus.net/" target="_blank">The Rumpus</a> is up on their site! It's actually been there for five days, but, hey, I was kinda busy this weekend. The piece is called "<a href="http://therumpus.net/2015/04/lockdown/" target="_blank">Lockdown</a>," and it's about a particularly harrowing time of my life a couple of years ago, right before I found my lit agent. They added great illustrations by Dana Schartz to the piece. It should be up for a little while longer— hope you can all check it out!<br />
<span style="color: purple;"><i>http://therumpus.net/2015/04/lockdown/</i></span><br />
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Now, to go and fix my garbage disposal.<br />
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<b><span style="color: purple;"><i>PS. Just so I don't get too cocky or anything, I was in a fender bender this afternoon, pulling into Walgreens. Thanks, Yin & Yang! Way to keep me balanced!</i></span></b><br />
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<br />James Siehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02368546657754244068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1856283094279090353.post-80607402340755821972015-03-16T08:30:00.000-07:002015-03-16T09:38:24.855-07:00Adventures in Publishing: The Beauty of a Page<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ePodS0NSKMM/VGUjJOwx68I/AAAAAAAABxY/d4Th_XQfRt8/s1600/SLLV%2Bcoverfinal.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ePodS0NSKMM/VGUjJOwx68I/AAAAAAAABxY/d4Th_XQfRt8/s1600/SLLV%2Bcoverfinal.jpg" height="320" width="210" /></a><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">On a previous adventure in publishing, I wrote about the cover designer Young Lin from St. Martin’s Press, who created a cover I would <i>want</i> my book to be judged by. But what about inside the book? Who’s responsible for what that looks like?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">A month ago, I would have guessed— well, I wouldn’t have guessed at all, because I had never thought about it before. If pages flow nicely and are readable I don’t really think about who’s responsible. And if it were a book that had illustrations, I would assume that the illustrator had laid down the entire layout for the book. Makes sense, yes?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Not so, gentle reader. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Enter the book’s interior designer, one of the true unsung heroes of this whole publishing process.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Interior design is not just a matter of taking my manuscript, choosing a font and pouring it into a layout. I had not realized how much went into it—choosing not only the type but how it’s spaced on the page, what the headers look like, how the title page gets laid out, how the illustrations fall on the page...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The job is even harder when you involve the author. I’m sure the words “What if…?” strike fear in the heart of every designer.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">The interior designer responsible for the look of my book is the masterful <b>Anna Gorovoy</b>, who has woven together my words, Choi’s illustrations, and Lin’s cover into a flowing, seamless reading experience. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I love how she took the torn paper from the cover and used it throughout the book. Fragments are what my book is all about! Really!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I also love how the header she chose ties in the graphic element to the prose narrative. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">And can I say how grateful I am that the editors allowed me to have some input? I mean, it’s a little risky to ask for an author’s opinion when a deadline looms, but they did. Anna had to put up with all my itsy-pooing—“Can the grayscale be maybe 10% lighter?” “How about we put the header type two points smaller?” “What if the car graphic were on one of those scraps of paper?”—but to Anna’s credit, she took my suggestions and tweaked the layout to everyone’s immense satisfaction. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">It’s gonna look great. </span><br />
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Aren’t you just dying to get this book? Aren’t you? Are you sleepless, fretful, feeling that you might miss out? Never fear! Pre-ordering is available, (and helps me with my pre-order numbers, which are apparently pretty important). <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Still-Life-Las-Vegas-Novel/dp/1250055660/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1426274955&sr=1-1&keywords=still+life+las+vegas" target="_blank">Pre-order at Amazon NOW</a> and put your mind at ease! </i></span>James Siehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02368546657754244068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1856283094279090353.post-60760114565190596422015-02-19T10:00:00.000-08:002015-02-19T13:14:34.163-08:00Embracing the Sheep<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">There is no good reason why I should love Lunar New Years. It's not a holiday I grew up celebrating. </span>It always falls on a different date, taking me by surprise, sometimes still fatigued from the December holidays. It's also a gargantuan effort, at least the way I do it: <b>combining the decorating of Halloween, the giving of Christmas and the cooking of Thanksgiving.</b> But I can't help it. I'm crazy for the <span style="color: red;">Gong Hay Fat Choy</span> (Or, if we want to get all Tet about it: the <span style="color: red;">Chuc Mung Nam Moi</span>).<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FZ9OxlmrV9k/VOWpLhH9EII/AAAAAAAAB4M/yAG1DyQcSFE/s1600/IMG_6962.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FZ9OxlmrV9k/VOWpLhH9EII/AAAAAAAAB4M/yAG1DyQcSFE/s1600/IMG_6962.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a>Doug reminds me, when he's feeling particularly snarky or when I'm getting overly stressed about getting my red lanterns up in time, that I've completely made up this holiday. He has a point (a bitchy one, but a point nonetheless). I started celebrating the Lunar New Year when we adopted our son, Ben, from Vietnam, because I wanted him to be proud of his heritage, something I decidedly never was. All the traditions we followed (opening the doors at midnight, wearing new clothes, making the dumplings) were taken from children's books I bought for Ben. At his preschool, I became the <i>de facto </i>expert on the holiday, and I've stayed that way at his schools through the years, directing dragon parades, giving cooking demonstrations on fried wontons, orchestrating tiny lion dancers. And in our home, many other traditions, both culinary and otherwise, have stayed in place, year after year after year.<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qoQVkSLidYg/VOWpLCC4M0I/AAAAAAAAB4Q/CwG0GPuE5mw/s1600/IMG_6961.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qoQVkSLidYg/VOWpLCC4M0I/AAAAAAAAB4Q/CwG0GPuE5mw/s1600/IMG_6961.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a>Yes, my amalgamation of different Tet/Chinese New Year traditions is largely of my own invention. ("Wait," Doug says, "you can't take a shower on New Year's Day?" "...Yes..." I say, "or wait, maybe it's you can't cut your hair. Let's do neither.") Maybe it's the fact that I have made up so much on my own that gives the holiday its appeal. Even the best holidays have a tinge of obligation to it, but this one? No one expects anything! If it happens, it's by dint of my own love for it. My sheer enjoyment of stringing up the lanterns, making the caramel sauce riblets, handing out the red envelopes. Better still, Ben loves the holiday, too. We've created our own family tradition. What's not to like about that?<br />
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And you can't beat those dumplings.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">To all my friends and family: have a healthy, peaceful, and prosperous <span style="color: red;">Year of the Sheep</span>!</span>James Siehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02368546657754244068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1856283094279090353.post-58593375926644088802015-01-30T15:10:00.000-08:002015-01-30T15:10:20.026-08:00Adventures in Publishing: Accordions and Folk Tunes<i>Wherein we learn that, despite all the awesome coddling that comes with being at a super publishing house, they will not do EVERYTHING for you. </i><br />
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Lookie what I got!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="color: purple;">If I'd a known accordions weighed a ton,<br />I woulda written them heavier.</span></i></td></tr>
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No, I'm not taking up a new hobby. I’ve rented it for a shoot of… <i>Still Life Las Vegas,</i> <b><span style="font-size: large;">*The Trailer.*</span></b> Yes, nowadays people make little filmed previews of their books to help sell them on the Internets. Just like the movies! Except, with less explosions, usually, unless you’re John Grisham.<br />
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So, how it works is, the publisher just whips up a little movie and submits it for your approval—<br />
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ah, no.<br />
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If you, the writer, would like this little (unproven) boost to book sales, you are free to create one yourself. Unless, I suspect, you’re John Grisham. Then you have Joel Schumacher make one for you, and, oh yeah, IT’S A REAL MOVIE.<br />
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As a non-John-Grisham-type writer, I find that living in Los Angeles and working in the entertainment industry has given me a distinct advantage—notably, knowing people who know how to shoot these things, and make them look good. My voice director for “Kung Fu Panda: Legends of Awesomeness,” Peter Hastings, also happens to have mad skills in a number of fields, and filmmaking is one of them. I’ve seen his work on a few music videos (did I mention he also plays the bass and was in the band Doozy?) and loved them.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="360" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/uP2Ccs-aTzk?rel=0" width="640"></iframe> <br />
This Jack-<i>and</i>-Master of all trades very graciously offered to help me create my trailer.<br />
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It's amazing, the help you find around you when you need it, and <i>ask</i>.<br />
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A few days ago I watched an evening of filming—one of the main characters in my book, Emily, playing the accordion. Peter brought in someone perfect for the role— accordionista extraordinaire <a href="http://www.geerabe.com/live/" target="_blank">Gee Rabe</a>.<br />
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I write the role of an Asian female accordion virtuoso, and <i>voila</i>, she appears (watch out, Lucy Liu, better jump quick if you're interested!). Gee hoisted that accordion onto her shoulders, started in on <i>Torna a Surriento</i>— and away we went.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: purple;"><i>This is from the perspective of me on the floor,<br />swiveling her around on a stool as she played. Hi-tech!</i></span></td></tr>
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We had a lot of fun.<br />
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Speaking of <i>Torna a Surriento</i>— if you, as a fledgling writer, decide you'd like to use a snippet of an old Italian folk song in your book and find an English translation on the internet and put it in, not thinking about who wrote the translation because, really, you’re not even CLOSE to needing that kind of information and <i>they’ll</i> get it all sorted out later (the aspirational, vague but authoritative <i>they</i>) in the remote possibility that you <i>do</i> get it published, IF YOU HAVE DONE THIS, don’t forget about attending to this question, and certainly don't wait until copyediting is asking for rights to said translation.<br />
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Oh! Do we need it?<br />
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Why yes, yes we do.<br />
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Here is where you find that the <i>they </i>you thought would handle this is, in actuality, <i>you.</i> THEY (the copyeditors at the publishing house) would like you to make sure that rights are available to all songs used in the book. Anything more than one line. That's what <i>they</i> are there for, to make sure no one (including you) gets sued down the line. Unfortunately, I couldn’t find any attribution for the translation of <i>Torna a Surriento</i> that I was using. While I’m pretty sure it was a literal translation that no one would lay claim to, a legal headache is the last thing anyone wants.<br />
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The solution? Why, write your own translation! This is more easily done if you have an Italian mother who can transcribe the song word for word for you. Here’s my version of <i>Return to Sorrento</i>. It’s not a literal translation, but my interpretation of it:<br />
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<i>Looking out I see the water,</i></div>
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<i>It glitters like a memory,</i></div>
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<i>Like the face I can’t let go of</i></div>
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<i>All my days and in my dreams</i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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<i>Smell the fragrance from the garden—</i></div>
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<i>Orange blossoms fill the air</i></div>
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<i>With the scent of sweet remembrance</i></div>
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<i>Of a time when you were near.</i></div>
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<i>And you said “I’m leaving, farewell.”</i></div>
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<i>In my arms you would not stay.</i></div>
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<i>From this land of love, my darling,</i></div>
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<i>You took your heart and turned away.</i></div>
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<i>Come back, my love</i></div>
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<i>Please torment me no more,</i></div>
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<i>Come back to Sorrento</i></div>
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<i>Don’t let me die!</i></div>
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Feel free to use it. Just give me credit!<br />
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<span style="color: purple; font-size: large;">BONUS!!!:</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uGUyujCTA34/VMvH7h8jg-I/AAAAAAAAB2o/mCogXk5yXsk/s1600/2015-Reading-Challenge.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uGUyujCTA34/VMvH7h8jg-I/AAAAAAAAB2o/mCogXk5yXsk/s1600/2015-Reading-Challenge.jpg" height="640" width="425" /></a></div>
I’m doing a reading challenge this year, and I invite you to join in! It’s one that's been making the rounds on Facebook, but originally culled from a blog site called <a href="http://modernmrsdarcy.com/2015/01/2015-reading-challenge/" target="_blank">Modern Mrs. Darcy</a>. The challenge gets you to read twelve books in as many months, and it gives you different criteria to choose each book. I’m not sure I’ll be able to get through it (that’s more than double what I usually read, unfortunately) but who <i>doesn’t</i> want to read more? (well, my son, but that’s another matter). Right now I've finished <i>Can't We Talk About Something More Pleasant? </i> by <a href="http://rozchast.com/" target="_blank">Roz Chast</a> (book recommended by someone with good taste), and I'm starting on <i>Everything I Never Told You </i>by <a href="http://www.celesteng.com/" target="_blank">Celeste Ng</a> (book on the bestseller list). Join in! <b>And we ALL know what book we’ll choose for the category <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Still-Life-Las-Vegas-James/dp/1250055660/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1422657756&sr=8-1&keywords=still+life+las+vegas" target="_blank">“book published this year”— yes?</a></b><br />
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James Siehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02368546657754244068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1856283094279090353.post-23915834812962431262015-01-19T09:23:00.001-08:002015-01-19T09:23:59.348-08:00Still Standing<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">I can’t lay all this wretchedness of the past few weeks on 2015’s doorstep; the pain was brewing just at the end of the year, smuggled in as an odd ache amongst the assorted miseries of a flu before the holidays, and asserting itself just as 2014 was giving up the ghost. But it wasn’t until just this week that it was given a name.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">At first the cause was thought to be Piriformis Syndrome, an oddly balletic-sounded name for a malady that hobbles you. After two weeks of adjustments and massages, the condition worsened, and my chiropractor pointed me to my doctor. One MRI later, all was revealed, and like all good horror movies, the culprit was someone we had already met. L4-L5.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">(That MRI was dearly paid for: driving was an agony, even with ice pack and Advil, but I thought the newly-prescribed drugs would kick in and I could manage it. This was not a good idea. The hydrocodone made me dizzy, but I didn’t recognize it until I was halfway to the imaging center, driving through Beverly Hills, growing more and more nauseous every minute, willing, WILLING the bile to recede from swirling around my gums, willing it to stay down like I had done in the morning so that I wouldn’t throw up the steroids but it's too late, I’m trying to pull over on Sunset Blvd, putting on my blinker, it will not keep down and suddenly my cheeks have ballooned like twin air bags filled with barf and I hold it and pull to the curb of a fancy Italian restaurant where the valet is starting to put out his sandwich board with the fancy curly writing on it, and I open the Ziploc bag that <i>Thank God</i> I have brought with me, just in case, thank you Jesus, and I delicately vomit twice more into that bag, then Ziploc it right back up and continue to my appointment.)</span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-w4VGJ5mSl3s/VLx6YbPhThI/AAAAAAAAB0k/3e6Kw4z_wVE/s1600/IMG_0070.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-w4VGJ5mSl3s/VLx6YbPhThI/AAAAAAAAB0k/3e6Kw4z_wVE/s1600/IMG_0070.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a><span style="font-family: inherit;">It seems that the <i>bulging </i>disc in my lumbar spine, the one compressed like jelly about to squirt out of the back of a peanut butter sandwich, has graduated to being <i>herniated. </i>The MRI report was a decidedly morose read, full of ominous words like <i>spondylosis</i> and <i>stenosis. </i>A clutch of ill-favored words: <i>compressed</i>, <i>distorted</i>, <i>disfigured</i> and <i>impinged</i> were threaded together in ONE SENTENCE (the weight of those adjectives alone could cause herniation). Simply put, the nerves making their way out between my two lower back vertebrae to my right leg were being aggravated, causing, alternately, cramping in the sole of my foot, burning on my shin, a pain in my buttock and the buzzing/tingling/numbness throughout. Even more simply put: I now have sciatica.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Putting a name gives me both relief (I now have a path forward) and despair (looking down that path). I’m making the paradigm shift from <i>temporary</i> discomfort to <i>who knows? </i>The most unsettling aspect during these last few weeks has been the inability to sit. Standing is fine, walking is beneficial, but sitting is excruciating for more than a few minutes. I wander, like a nomad, through my home, never <i>settling down</i> to eat, to write, to, well, <i>settle</i>. I pace from room to room until I have to lie down. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: purple;"><i>My Preciousssssss...</i></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">It’s gotten much better, mercifully. The constant pain has almost been vanquished with the steroids and is I have to I can drive short distances (my almost-depleted supply of Prednisone gives me anxiety, though; I look at the few pills I have left with the dread of one dangling over a cliff’s edge, feeling the sweaty palm slowly slipping slipping away from the savior’s grip). We are giving physical therapy a whirl for a month, with other options down the road. Luckily I can do voiceover auditions and gigs standing up. Writing is more difficult (the days of hunching over my laptop at Starbucks are gone for now) but I’m working my way back in. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I’m reading more (easy to do on one’s back). Although I can’t multitask, (which, coupled with the no-driving, makes me <i>much</i> less efficient) I’m more present to the task at hand, and don't dawdle, because dawdling is best done sitting. Less game-playing! I appreciate that I can sleep now, and tie my shoe, and perch from time to time. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I’d like to say that I see the blessing in all this, but in truth, it feels more like a premonition. </span></div>
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James Siehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02368546657754244068noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1856283094279090353.post-10365303221684499852014-11-21T23:31:00.001-08:002014-11-21T23:36:34.726-08:00Adventures in Publishing: Proof<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(50, 51, 51); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; color: #323333;">
<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">A few weeks ago, I received a rather large packet in the mail:</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;">My manuscript!</span><span style="font-size: 15px;"> But covered in strange markings, done in mauve pencil. This, my friends, was the copy edited copy of Still Life Las Vegas, ready for perusal.</span></span></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-r5YFJGxSupA/VHAViiNKz-I/AAAAAAAABys/mWvSHMaepQU/s1600/IMG_6375.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-r5YFJGxSupA/VHAViiNKz-I/AAAAAAAABys/mWvSHMaepQU/s1600/IMG_6375.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">A bit daunting at first glance, this document was nonetheless exhilarating to look at. After all, the publisher had cared enough about me and my project to pore over it and discover all the ways in which I might appear sadly ignorant of the basics tenets of English grammar. And thank God for that, I soon discovered. They were making it fit for public consumption.</span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-y-Kg2n3uJFo/VHAWgYynHuI/AAAAAAAABzM/R38nYAyKauc/s1600/IMG_6366.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-y-Kg2n3uJFo/VHAWgYynHuI/AAAAAAAABzM/R38nYAyKauc/s1600/IMG_6366.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The manuscript came with a SLLV style sheet, a little bible on the rules of the world of the novel, for the purpose of consistency. How did I use italics? Denote titles? Spell "Fudgsicle"? This was pretty cool to read, especially the list of proper nouns in the book. All the people and places I’d made up, written down just like they were real! </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sQ1vGodNB00/VHAWgYe5aVI/AAAAAAAABzE/-kKRV6OL1N0/s1600/IMG_6365.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sQ1vGodNB00/VHAWgYe5aVI/AAAAAAAABzE/-kKRV6OL1N0/s1600/IMG_6365.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(50, 51, 51); text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="color: purple; font-size: x-small;">I had no idea who some of these characters were—<br />Heinz Leipzig?</span></i><span style="color: #323333; font-size: 15px;"> </span></span></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Onto the manuscript itself. This was my time to review all the marks and remarks left by the proof editor and decide if they were what I wanted: vet or stet (stet is a proofing term which means “Leave it as it is— I <i>meant</i> to transgress grammatical laws at this point.”) It was also my last chance to wipe away any wince-inducing passages, ungainly sentences, redundancies, and any other literary detritus I discovered on the way. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Looking at all the minute edits and questions was like entering the the Merry Old Land of Oz/St. Martins, where my book was shampooed, manicured, re-stuffed, and buffed free of all errant spaces and double dashes.</span></div>
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<i style="color: purple;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Can you even change the tense to match my noun? Jolly good town!</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(50, 51, 51); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; color: #323333; font-size: 15px;">My proofreader was listed as one Bethany Reis, with whom I felt intimately connected these past weeks. After all, she’d gone over my book more thoroughly and minutely than anyone else, including me (including I? Including myself? Bethany would know). She’d scrutinized every word, looked up every reference, </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(50, 51, 51); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; color: #323333; font-size: 15px;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4rD4-_5N_Aw/VHAfGxSCb_I/AAAAAAAABzo/DFEkG5bL0p4/s1600/phoenix.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4rD4-_5N_Aw/VHAfGxSCb_I/AAAAAAAABzo/DFEkG5bL0p4/s1600/phoenix.jpg" height="205" width="320" /></a></span></span></div>
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and had laid out her findings, a secret map for me in hieroglyphic code. As I went through the pages and her notes, I imagined her whispering in my ear. She would have a voice not unlike Scarlet Johansson. </span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(50, 51, 51); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-size: 15px;"><span style="color: #741b47;">“Are you really sure you want to echo the word 'propelled,' as you’ve just used it in the previous paragraph?”</span></span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(50, 51, 51); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; color: #323333; font-size: 15px;"> she would ask huskily. I would brandish my purple pencil and slash out the word, scribble in “incited” instead. <b>Magic!</b> We twirled our way through the pages, this duet of STET’s and checkmarks. I may not have agreed with her every note, but I appreciated them all. I was lucky for her discretion; her gentle admonishments rarely made me feel like a total idiot. I’d love for her to read this post, but I’m afraid she’ll make me rewrite it. In fact, I’m </span><i style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(50, 51, 51); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; color: #323333; font-size: 15px;">sure</i><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(50, 51, 51); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; color: #323333; font-size: 15px;"> she’d make me rewrite it. (</span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(50, 51, 51); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-size: 15px;"><span style="color: #a64d79;">“Did you mean to repeat the word “rewrite”? Is the repetition intentional?”</span></span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(50, 51, 51); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; color: #323333; font-size: 15px;">)</span></span></div>
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<u style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(50, 51, 51); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; color: #323333; font-size: 15px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">My List of Most Oft-Used Mistakes</span></u></div>
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<li><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Constantly mixing up “farther” and “further.”</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">Adding the unnecessary word “of” to “off” (“He picked the bag off </span><i style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">of </i><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">the floor.”)</span></span></li>
<li><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Capitalizing the seasons (did we learn to capitalize seasons as children?)</span></span></li>
<li><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Adding a “d” to “size,” as in “travel-sized.”</span></span></li>
<li><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Playing fast and loose with using the Oxford comma (the final comma before “and” in a series of things).</span></span></li>
<li><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">A<span style="font-family: inherit;">dding an “s” to the end of “upward,” “backward,” and most especially, ever and always, “toward.” </span></span></span></li>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Who knew? Bethany did. I wonder if she enjoyed the book. I wonder if you <i>can </i>enjoy a book you're proofing, because you're reading for such a different purpose. It might even be a conflict of interest. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I finished reviewing the changes. It took a lot of time, but it was quite satisfying work. I added an acknowledgment page, a dedication, and shipped it off. Next up: bound galleys!</span></div>
James Siehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02368546657754244068noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1856283094279090353.post-46467178771049678932014-11-14T13:14:00.001-08:002014-11-21T23:37:07.194-08:00Adventures in Publishing: Please Judge My Book by Its Cover<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">When I first opened the email attachment that had the possible cover of "Still Life Las Vegas" in it, I gasped and slammed my computer shut. It was nothing that I expected: there was so many images, so much color, and it was oddly...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Perfect. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I've never met Young Lim, the designer at St. Martin's Press, but he seemed to take all the disparate ideas we had about the cover ("Could we maybe use both real images and drawn?" "Maybe an accordion on the side of the road?" "Could there be some sexy statue?"), pour them into the crucible of his own considerable talent and come up with a perfect encapsulation of what the book is all about: </span></div>
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ePodS0NSKMM/VGUjJOwx68I/AAAAAAAABxU/gkWKFEaaL9M/s1600/SLLV%2Bcoverfinal.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ePodS0NSKMM/VGUjJOwx68I/AAAAAAAABxU/gkWKFEaaL9M/s640/SLLV%2Bcoverfinal.jpg" width="419" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">There's the graphic novel element (with the beautiful drawings by Sungyoon Choi), the whimsy, the melancholy. . . and Vegas, baby, Vegas!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I'd heard so many horror stories about authors <i>hating </i>their book jackets that I was prepared for the worst; it was such a gift to be presented with a prototype that looked almost exactly like this. A little tweaking, and we were good to go. Now, I don't know how much toil and back-and-forth went on in-house, but for me, it was like opening a present on Christmas day. </span></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">It's so much more of a tangible thing now, you know? And the book's presence is starting to pop up unexpectedly online, like seedlings: <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/23014675-still-life-las-vegas" target="_blank">a goodreads listing</a>, and now one on <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Still-Life-Las-Vegas-James/dp/1250055660/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1415988599&sr=8-1&keywords=still+life+las+vegas" target="_blank">Amazon</a>! My friend Derek alerted me to the pre-order status of the book on Amazon, where I <i>also</i> found out that it's being <b>released on August 11</b>, four days earlier than I thought. Amazon settled its <a href="http://shelf-life.ew.com/2014/11/13/amazon-and-hachette-resolve-conflict/" target="_blank">fight with Hachette</a> <i>and</i> listed me for preorder on the same day? That Prime Membership must be kicking in!</span></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Now, you know. . . preorders are a way for the publisher to gauge buzz about the book, so if you have <i>any</i> curiosity about Still Life Las Vegas, this would be an excellent time to <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Still-Life-Las-Vegas-James/dp/1250055660/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1415988599&sr=8-1&keywords=still+life+las+vegas" target="_blank">order it</a>. <span style="font-size: large;">Think of it as securing your end-of-the-summer-read now!</span> You can strike it off your list!</span></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Truly, though, I feel so happy. Such support and talent going on over at the Flatiron Building. I am extremely grateful. </span></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="color: purple; font-family: inherit;">PS. See that photo of a balloon on the cover? I took that!</span></i></span></div>
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James Siehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02368546657754244068noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1856283094279090353.post-56731132335624241482014-10-20T13:24:00.000-07:002014-10-20T13:24:35.854-07:00Songs in the Key of Grief<blockquote class="tr_bq">
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>“I like a look of Agony,</i> </span><br />
<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">Because I know it’s true—</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">Men do not sham Convulsion</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">Nor simulate, a Throe—</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">The Eyes glaze once—and that is Death—</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">Impossible to feign</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">The Beads upon the Forehead</span></i><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>By homely Anguish Strung.“</i> </span></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><i style="font-family: inherit;">—</i><span style="font-family: inherit;">Emily Dickinson</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;">To say I was looking forward to reading Edward Hirsch’s new book <i>Gabriel: A Poem</i> is not quite apt, but it’s not far from the truth, either.</span> It is, after all, an elegy to his son, who was found dead of an overdose at the age twenty-two. It is a sometimes harrowing, sometimes heartbreaking, look back at the life of a boy, from time of adoption to time of death. <span style="font-size: large;">We watch him grow up, moment to moment, much like the movie “Boyhood,” except instead of ending with promise and possibility, we are left at a graveside</span>. In propulsive three-line stanzas, Hirsch details a childhood gone awry, through the caprice of internal chemistry and behavioral disorders. There are moments of joy and much dark humor, but it is mostly a narrative of a troubled childhood that starts difficult and does not get easier. There is also, not surprisingly, quite a bit of tenderness. It pierces the heart. Throughout the poem are interspersed tales of other famous artists who have lost their children too soon, as if Hirsch is trying to make some sense of the death, give it some context, but in the end the universal cannot illuminate the specific. The poet is left alone to say goodbye to his singular son. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"> <i> “I did not know the work of mourning</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i> Is a labor in the dark</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i> We carry deep inside ourselves</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i> Though sometimes when I sleep</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i> I am with him again</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i> And then I wake</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i> Poor Sisyphus grief</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i> I am not ready for your heaviness</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i> Cemented to my body</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i> Look closely and you will see</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i> Almost everyone carrying bags</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i> Of cement on their shoulders</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i> That’s why it takes courage</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i> To get out of bed in the morning</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i> And climb into the day”</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i> —Edward Hirsch, Gabriel: a Poem</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">It is beautifully written, insightful and lucid, but there are quite a few people who would not even open the book. “Why on earth would you want to go through that?” they ask. I suspect there are those reading this who feel the same. Not I. I gravitate towards the stuff. I am someone who could watch Emma Thompson die of cancer every year in “Wit.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Who has read, in quick succession, in hardback, the grief memoirs of both Joyce Carol Oates (<i>A Widow’s Story</i>), who lost her husband to a secondary infection at a hospital, and Joan Didion, who has had the great misfortune to have written two such memoirs, following the death not only of her husband (<i>The Year of Magical Thinking) </i>but of her daughter (<i>Blue Nights</i>).</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I am not ghoulish. I don’t wallow in misery, exactly, but I do gravitate towards stories of loss, and grief. Those chords resonate within me. My upcoming novel, <i>Still Life Las Vegas</i>, is permeated with it, no matter how fantastical or whimsical the story gets. (It’s funny too! Promise!) I guess my Humor tends towards the Melancholic. I am someone who is ever waiting for the other shoe to fall, no matter how many of them have already rained down. Perhaps I read these type of books for the same reason I read travelogues: I’m going to be taking the same journey, sooner or later, and I’d like to check out the terrain. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">But it’s more than that. There is a clarity in devastation, a stark honesty that can present itself in times of loss. We are stripped of the trappings of our day-to-day and are asked to confront the deeper truths of life— its impermanence, its fragility, and its many overlooked small kindnesses. There is a strange beauty in it all, especially as refracted through the discerning eye of a skilled writer. We may not have the austere, piercing insight of Didion, or the caustic humor of Oates, or the anguished imagery of Hirsch, but in reading their words on loss, we are connected to them all, and to each other. We are all of us huddled in a cave, staring out into the impenetrable darkness, and the poet's lamentations illuminate our own coupled hands. </span></div>
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James Siehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02368546657754244068noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1856283094279090353.post-81554160009233623782014-09-24T11:26:00.000-07:002014-09-24T11:34:19.427-07:00Am I Blue?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<i>"It always starts with a <span style="color: blue;">blue Volvo,</span> driving away." </i></div>
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<i>—Still Life Las Vegas</i></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">In some ways, my book must be a big pain in the ass for my publishers. </span>I mean, they bought a novel, but it's not just a straight up novel. There's narrative art in it as well (the twenty-buck term for cartoons). Plus sketches. Plus color. Plus <span style="color: #134f5c;">colored text</span>. All those pluses add an expense to the printing, and for a debut novel, it takes an extra measure of faith. So, when my editor, Sara Goodman, wrote in July that she was waiting on approval for adding color, I wasn't holding my breath. </div>
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I also took a preemptive dip into anxiety. I knew that Sungyoon Choi's amazing illustrations would certainly hold up on their own, but a <span style="color: red;">POP!</span> of color could add that much more to a reader's experience. It also served as a subtle but pervasive thematic element that wove several strands of narrative together. At least, this is the argument for color that I imagined myself giving as I threw myself on the conference room table of St. Martin's Press in a last ditch appeal for a CRUCIAL element, just as I was resigning myself to the idea of black-and-white art.</div>
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Two weeks ago Sara wrote me again. <span style="color: blue;">Color was in</span>. </div>
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She had just gotten approval for <i>one</i> other color, plus black (YAY Sara!). This color had to be derived from a single Pantone shade, not comprised of several colors together. We needed to send the colorized art files to the book's interior designer and the whole production process would begin.</div>
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The hunt for Blue was on. </div>
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What followed was a ridiculous amount of emails propagated by me in the dark of night and hurled towards Choi, Sara and my agent, all about what shade of <span style="color: blue;">blue</span> was the perfect shade of <span style="color: cyan;">blue</span>. Was <span style="color: #76a5af;">this blue</span> too gray? Was <span style="color: #073763;">this blue</span> serious enough? Didn't <span style="color: purple;">this one</span> look like it came from a mimeograph machine? (Only my agent got this reference.) And not only <i>what</i> shade, but <i>where </i>the blue was going to be used. Should this text be in blue? What was it <i>saying</i> if it wasn't blue? Or should it be a blue <i>box</i>? Could the blue of the hat match the blue of the car window? I had a sudden appreciation for my husband's futile attempt to get me interested in the color of the dining room trim. </div>
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Luckily, everyone humored my molehill preoccupations and gave sage, considered advice. Choi doled out color revision after color revision with the patience of a Baskin-Robbins scooper handing out samples. And the winner?:</div>
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It really is a lovely blue. And what Choi can do with one shade of blue is nothing short of miraculous.</div>
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Color does make a difference. A <i>big</i> difference. I am the luckiest guy in the world. Who has developed a sudden craving for panettone.</div>
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<br />James Siehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02368546657754244068noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1856283094279090353.post-39002154653517978672014-09-01T14:38:00.006-07:002014-09-01T14:46:45.253-07:00Billie Holiday, Augusten Burroughs, and Underwater Dogs: Business and Pleasure in New York <h1 style="border: 0px; color: #333333; line-height: 1.3em; margin: 0px 0px 4px; outline: 0px; padding: 16px 0px 0px;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-j2NNOy1QNIM/VATg1YDgZ_I/AAAAAAAABsM/uTFkpF5eZmI/s1600/NYC.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-j2NNOy1QNIM/VATg1YDgZ_I/AAAAAAAABsM/uTFkpF5eZmI/s1600/NYC.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">A week on the East Coast. One last hurrah before the blessed regularity of school kicks in.</span></span></h1>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Four moves in six days. Beds of varying comfort. Uniformly good showers (except the one at that hotel where the water was perpetually tepid). <b>These are the ways older folks measure their vacations.</b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 15px;">First stop: Rhinecliff, in upstate New York, where the Morton Library </span></span><span style="font-size: 15px;">was showcasing my son Ben's photographic work. </span></span><span style="color: #333333; font-size: 15px;">Ben has a series of underwater photos of our dog, Rowdy, who dives to the bottom of our pool in an obsessive quest for The Ball. This was Ben's</span><span style="color: #333333; font-size: 15px;"> first public viewing, the first time his photos have ever been by frames and red dots. </span><span style="color: #333333; font-size: 15px;">The reception was a big success, well attended. As per the artist's request, Hawaiian punch and cheese puffs (both crunchy and puffy) were served. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-size: 15px;">His Auntie Sue arranged the whole event. We stayed at her beautiful home, ate from her garden and </span><span style="color: #333333; font-size: 15px;">watched Swallowtail Caterpillars munching on her fennel. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Back down to the City, where we stayed at our friends Denis & Hugo's most comfortable digs in Ft. Green, Brooklyn. I had some business of my own in Manhattan. </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Took the N train down to the Flatiron Building, where I had my first visit to <b>St. Martin’s Press</b>. </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">My editor Sara was away on vacation (as almost everyone is in Manhattan during August) but I was warmly welcomed by her assistant, the young and impossibly refreshed-looking Alicia Adkins-Clancy, who looked as if she had just stepped from a meadow filled with daisies instead of from a tiny white office in the warren of St. Martin's in the heat of summer. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: inherit; font-size: 15px;">I then enjoyed a lunch with Ivan Lett, the tall, poised Marketing Manager of “Team Still Life.” He gave me all manner of good advice (hint: it involves social media) and I left lunch armed and reassured. Did you know I now have a <a href="https://www.tumblr.com/blog/siehomme" target="_blank">tumblr account</a>? And a <a href="https://www.facebook.com/jamessieauthor" target="_blank">Facebook Author page</a>? There's also tin cans connected by </span><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="font-size: 15px;">string dangling from my window so you can connect with me no matter where you are!</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: inherit; font-size: 15px;">A quick stop to Eataly, Mario Batali’s food-court-on-steroids emporium of Italian gourmet food. It's like a Disneyland for foodies: Pastaland! Torroneville! Proscuitti of the Caribbean! I want to book a room and eat my way through every department. If you had seen the delicacies on display, you would not blame me for taking away a caprese panini even though I had JUST MOMENTS BEFORE eaten lunch. Mario must bring one to Los Angeles, we are a poorer town without one.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Lunch the next day with my agent, Christopher Schelling. It was our first meeting after more than a year of phone calls and email correspondences, and it had the possibility of becoming Momentous; luckily Mr. Schelling was as warm and friendly as his phone persona, and a good time was had by all. He brought along <a href="http://www.augusten.com/" target="_blank">Augusten Burroughs</a>, the author ("Running with Scissors,” "Dry") with the piercing eyes and a mordant wit, whose perception of family hews close to mine own. I tried not to burble like the fanboy I am. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The 9-11 Museum and Memorial: profound, and sensitively rendered. Also, intensely immersive. Fear not the commercialization and Disneyfication of the event, native New Yorkers—I think they got it right. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Husband Doug also had a reason to be in New York: a long-awaited birthday present of seeing Audra McDonald in “Lady Day at the Emerson Bar and Grill.” We saw it the night before we left, and spent most of the performance agape at Ms. McDonald's vocal transformation into Billie Holiday. A great capper to a whirlwind trip. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">A year 'til my book is out! The countdown begins!</span><br />
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James Siehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02368546657754244068noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1856283094279090353.post-64828779071726371952014-08-20T14:43:00.001-07:002014-08-20T21:54:40.533-07:00Robin Williams and the Under Toad<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;">“But in the world according to Garp, we are all terminal cases.” </b></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;">I knew it was going to be sad, but I didn’t realize <i>how </i>sad it would be. </span>Tuesday, I took myself to the Arclight Cinema to see a special showing of “The World According to Garp” as part of a Robin Williams celebration. I didn't know what I was getting myself into.</span></span></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hfsuku5cxls/U_UTv_3E7RI/AAAAAAAABrQ/AswuReaVHeA/s1600/garp%2Bbook.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hfsuku5cxls/U_UTv_3E7RI/AAAAAAAABrQ/AswuReaVHeA/s1600/garp%2Bbook.jpg" /></a><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I don’t think I’d seen that movie since it had come out in theaters in 1982. I remember, at the time, liking the movie, but not too much. It would have been impossible for any film version to please me, given my utter devotion to the source material. “The World According to Garp” was one of the first contemporary adult novels I read that wasn’t for a class, and that didn’t include space travel, wizards or the supernatural. It was about Life, its terrors and joys, humor suffused with melancholy, and it perfectly encapsulated my world view at the time. John Irving is a masterful storyteller— the worlds he creates are so complete and rich and textured, his characters are so full of life you feel like they live on beyond the page. “Garp” was also the first book I read that described the life of a writer and the creative process in a way that felt both honest and aspirational. It was, and continues to be, a touchstone novel for me.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">It’s a lot for any movie to live up to. When I first saw it as a college student all I could concentrate on was what was changed from the book (where was “The Pension Grillparzer”?) and the fact that the guy from “Mork and Mindy,” was playing T.S. Garp. I remember being unimpressed with his performance, and also thinking he looked <i>waaay</i> too old to play a high school student.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">What a difference thirty years, and a tragedy, makes.</span></span></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oAZOpX23nzI/U_UTv01TzbI/AAAAAAAABq0/6sdexwqYRyg/s1600/garp%2Byoung.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oAZOpX23nzI/U_UTv01TzbI/AAAAAAAABq0/6sdexwqYRyg/s1600/garp%2Byoung.jpg" height="320" width="250" /></a><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">In the Arclight theater, watching him make his first appearance onscreen, the first thing I thought was “God, look how <i>young</i> he looks.” His smooth, baby face, the long lashes, the bright clear eyes. It didn’t get any easier from there.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The movie was much, much better than I remember, full of great peformances (Glenn Close, John Lithgow, Marybeth Hurt, even a young Amanda Plummer). It was touching and funny and surprisingly faithful to much of the book. But of course I was watching it through the lens of grief. I laughed a lot, but wept almost as often. In the movie, there is tragedy hiding around every corner, and no matter how much Robin William’s Garp tries to protect his family from harm’s way he of course never can, because death is waiting for us all, the Under Toad ready to suck you out to sea. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">It’s impossible to watch the movie and not imagine that Williams felt the Under Toad swirling at his feet, even then. There’s a sadness, or so I perceive now, lurking in his twinkling eyes that I hadn’t noticed before. And I appreciate his performance much more, his restraint (no John Wayne impressions here) and simplicity. I’ve come to believe he was perfectly cast in the role, a man trying to hold it all together in a world filled with absurdity and horror. The world, according to Garp, is full of terminal cases, and in the end Williams became one of them. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Early on in the movie, before Garp becomes Robin Williams, Glenn Close, as Garp’s mother, takes a young Garp aside and tells him, “Everybody dies. I'm going to die too. So will you. The thing is, to have a life before we die. It can be a real adventure, having a life.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Thank you, Robin Williams, for sharing so much of your life with us. It’s been quite an adventure.</span></span></div>
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James Siehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02368546657754244068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1856283094279090353.post-45200285253898881052014-07-31T17:52:00.000-07:002014-11-21T23:36:56.492-08:00Adventures in Publishing: Seedling<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">Remember those germination experiments in elementary school? The ones where you press a sunflower seed or mung bean into wet paper towels and watch as they sprout, their softened bodies cracking open to release delicate tendrils of life?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">That’s what’s happening now with my novel, <i>Still Life, Las Vegas</i>. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">We’re </span>slowly <span style="font-family: inherit;">starting to move from the theoretical to the real. My editor at St. Martin’s Press, Sara Goodman, warned me that the route to getting a book published is notoriously slow, and for authors there’s always a “hurry up and wait” element (actor friends, does this sound familiar?). My agent Christopher added, “The black hole between the book being completely off your desk and actual being published is ALWAYS a slog.” But now the first roots are starting to appear. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="color: purple;">Hi. I'm friendly. Buy my book.</span></i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I was asked to okay some copy, a bio and a book description, for the catalog that St. Martin’s sends out to booksellers. It’s a unique sensation, reading someone else’s synopsis on your story. <i>Oh! so THAT’S what it’s about!</i> I’ve had to submit photos of myself for publicity, and lucky for me, my old friend AND <a href="http://www.suzanneplunkettphotographs.com/" target="_blank">headshot photographer</a> Suzanne Plunkett from Chicago just happened to be in town, so I got her to make me look all, you know, <i>authorial</i>. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Conversation is also beginning about the book cover art, and the idea of this is exciting beyond measure. I’m sure there will be angst down the road, but now, the idea of a graphic designer reading the book—<b> it makes me squee</b>. Isn’t that the word the kids are using these days? </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="color: purple;">This was when I was still trying different titles.<br />It's the equivalent of a teenage girl writing<br />her married name in script</span></i>.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Best thing so far? Working on my acknowledgements. It’s just the warmest feeling, sitting and writing down the names of all the people who have helped me along the way. I see a flip-book of faces who have offered me advice and given me these great nuggets of information to sprinkle into my book. All those who have nurtured this concept, this impossibility, of getting a novel to print. Of course, I’m already nervous about how many people I have inadvertently left out, but I am grateful for each and every one, acknowledged and otherwise. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Little leaves are unfurling…</span>James Siehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02368546657754244068noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1856283094279090353.post-87685552269358451062014-07-16T17:54:00.002-07:002014-07-16T20:25:17.969-07:00Tongue Tied<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">Once, many years ago, I had a screenplay I was flogging around town. It was an amusing little ditty about being Asian-American in Hollywood. I had a manager involved, it placed in a screenplay competition, there was actually some interest in the project, but I needed a director to make it happen. A director to, you know, push it forward, talk it up, make the dogs and ponies prance about. Which was not really my strong suit, as the following story will illustrate:</span><br />
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One potential director I met with was someone with whom I had worked closely in my Chicago days. We were in the same theater company for years. He had directed me in a play. We were <i>friends</i>. We had <i>history</i>. (I also had a slight crush on him, but that was beside the point. Or was it?) This director and I had both recently relocated to Los Angeles, where he was making inroads into the film community. I was looking for a film director. <b>Perfect, right?</b><br />
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We agreed to meet at his house and talk about the project. I stayed up late the night before, getting the script in perfect shape. The morning of the meeting, I trundled over to his home, a bohemian California bungalow rental in Silverlake. He made coffee and I made chit-chat (in my signature Barbara Walter’s interview style) while we tried to negotiate that odd tonal terrain between friendly catch-up and commerce.<br />
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What was he up to? I asked. A lot, apparently. The director smoothly unspooled a long list of projects— upcoming, completed or conjectured—all while casually opening the refrigerator, hauling out the Brita, handing me my glass of water. He presented a verbal resumé without it ever sounding like a recitation, making it sound, like, well, <i>conversation</i>.<br />
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“And what have you been doing?” he asked, all friendly-like. I stared blankly, like he had just asked me to recite the Gettysburg Address in Portuguese. “Oh, well, I, uh, oh you know, just the, trying to… get…stuff… done.” Never mind that there were accomplishments I could have ticked off— my one man show, my nascent voiceover career, <i>anything</i>—no, it was as if I had just that morning awoken from a three-year coma. I took the longest swig of water ever known to man.<br />
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And that was just the chit-chat portion.<br />
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We made our way to the living room. There, on the coffee table, was the script I had so diligently worked on the night before. Without words, we both knew, instinctively, that we had at last wended our way to the business portion of our meeting. “So,” the director said, settling down on the couch, “tell me what the screenplay’s about.”<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">You’d think I might have anticipated that question.</span><br />
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“Oh! Well, it’s about, um, there’s this girl, she’s half-Asian, and she’s got a fixation on this up-and-coming Hollywood star, and, well, you think it’s a crush, but it’s not really, he’s, um, I mean, it turns out he’s got this secret, um, and it's that she’s his sister, I mean, that’s not the secret, I mean, though no one knows that, but the secret is that, like, he’s half-Asian, and so, in Hollywood, they don’t know, and, um—“<br />
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This is not the most painful part. The most painful part is when I actually interrupt my rambling to bury my face in my hands, sigh the weariest of sighs, and mutter the three words guaranteed to sell your pitch: “I’m so tired…”<br />
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<b>I’m. So. Tired.</b><br />
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Needless to say, he passed on the project.<br />
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This cautionary tale continues to haunt me, especially now, as my book is entering its long gestational period before publication. I want to speak eloquently about “Still Life Las Vegas” in conversation or interviews. I want to chat it up at a moment’s notice. I love my book, and I need to think of it like it’s my own son, about whom I can talk proudly and endlessly.<br />
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So here’s where you come in.<br />
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If, in the next year, we happen to be conversing, and you find a propitious moment, could you casually ask me what my book is about? I won’t go on too long, I promise, and we needn’t dwell on the matter.<br />
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It’s just that, you know, I might need the practice.<br />
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James Siehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02368546657754244068noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1856283094279090353.post-30441978403876243262014-07-02T12:41:00.000-07:002014-07-02T12:41:36.731-07:00In Which we Bid Adieu to Zac Efron, and 90-Day Challenges<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NZXctAk2uL8/U0TOuaHfQ_I/AAAAAAAABhE/vYt8kn2VMVI/s1600/90-day+novel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NZXctAk2uL8/U0TOuaHfQ_I/AAAAAAAABhE/vYt8kn2VMVI/s1600/90-day+novel.jpg" height="200" width="133" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">It's finished. Three long months ago, I undertook a challenge to write a novel in 90 days, with the aid of a book called, uncannily enough, <b>"The 90-Day Novel</b>." I took with my on my journey my friend and colleague Holly Myer, who was going to draw ninety illustrations in that same time period. How did we do? </span>Well, let's just say, I waited the WHOLE night, but Rumpelstiltskin did not show up to rescue me and spin my straw into narrative gold. Damn him. Holly fared better:</span></div>
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-weight: bold;">James Sie: </span>Saw your <a href="http://unemployedonpurpose.tumblr.com/" target="_blank">blog</a>. The Olsen twins. You really want to finish this whole thing with the Olsen twins?</div>
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<br /><span style="color: magenta;">Holly Myer: </span>I don't know why it had to end with the Olsens. It just happened. I’ve been watching a lot of Full House.<br /> <br /><b style="color: #38761d;">JS:</b><span style="color: #38761d;"> </span>I'm so sorry. Trauma conditioning? Or John Stamos?<br /> <br /><b style="color: magenta;">HM: </b>I love John Stamos more than words can say. I've done extensive studies on his face, and I've discovered many similarities between his Full House-years face and Zac Efron's current face.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: purple;"><i>This is the last Efron photo<br />I will ever post on my blog. <br />Hand to God.</i></span></td></tr>
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<b style="color: #38761d;">JS:</b><span style="color: #38761d;"> </span>You definitely have a type.. He's like an early Efron prototype.<br /> <br /><b style="color: magenta;">HM: </b> Exactly.<br /> <br /><b style="color: #38761d;">JS:</b><span style="color: #38761d;"> </span>Glad to see the technology has advanced.<div>
<br /> So, how did the challenge end for you? Cross the finish line?<br /> <br /><b style="color: magenta;">HM: </b>I ended up with 90 drawings. I aimed for 100, but 90 is still good!<br /> <br /><b style="color: #38761d;">JS:</b><span style="color: #38761d;"> </span>A drawing a day! Perfect!<br /> <br /><b style="color: magenta;">HM: </b> Yep! Very proud of the collection overall.<br /> <br /><b style="color: #38761d;">JS:</b><span style="color: #38761d;"> </span>You've got quite a lot of stuff to work with! What were some of your favorites?<br /> <br /><b style="color: magenta;">HM: </b>: One of a family photo of my dad and brother, the OITNB characters, and one from the last week-a portrait of Juliette Gordon Low, founder of Girl Scouts.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b style="color: #38761d;">JS:</b><span style="color: #38761d;"> </span>You <a href="http://unemployedonpurpose.tumblr.com/" target="_blank">talked about</a> how it ended up being waaaay different than you imagined it being when you started out. How?<br /> <br /><b style="color: magenta;">HM: </b> My original idea was to illustrate all my blog entries/essays thus far, based on GIFs I've used, but most ended up being based on random family photos, frames from TV/movies, or historical portraits. Though, I still did some based on the GIFs.<br /> <br /><b style="color: #38761d;">JS:</b><span style="color: #38761d;"> </span>Why did it go that way? And do you wish you had done more of the GIF's, or is this new direction giving you more?<br /><br /><b style="color: magenta;">HM: </b> I think by starting with that idea was a good warm-up, but getting exercise with the digital art made me want to just run wild and abandon the path I'd set out on… but that’s okay, because I ended up with a series of illustrations that still says something! And maybe I can incorporate them into a collection with the essays so far.<br /> <br /><b style="color: #38761d;">JS:</b><span style="color: #38761d;"> </span>Certainly the iconic TV images can be in a section all their own. Maybe with commentary.<br /> <br /><b style="color: magenta;">HM: </b>Definitely.<br /> How about YOUUU, sir? Do you have a first draft??<br /> <br /><b style="color: #38761d;">JS:</b><span style="color: #38761d;"> </span>Well, I wrote just shy of 27000 words. I have 108 pages completed.<br /> <br /><b style="color: magenta;">HM: </b>THAT'S SO MANY PAGES!<br /> <br /><b style="color: #38761d;">JS:</b><span style="color: #38761d;"> </span>Yah, but it's only about a third of the way done. HOWEVER, if I'm being honest, judging from my last book, it ended up being about my usual pace— a little more than a page a day… So my natural tendencies pulled stronger than my self-imposed challenge.<br /> <br /><b style="color: magenta;">HM: </b>Nature wins once again!<br /> <br /><b style="color: #38761d;">JS:</b><span style="color: #38761d;"> </span>"Nature, Mr. Allnut, was what we were put on this earth to rise above."<br /> <br /><b style="color: magenta;">HM: </b>Um…<br /><br /><b style="color: #38761d;">JS:</b><span style="color: #38761d;"> </span>Say it with a quavering, strident voice and you might get it.<br /><br /><b style="color: magenta;">HM: </b>When I said it out loud, it was accidentally in Maya Rudolph's Whitney Houston impersonation voice. Is that close? <br /><br /><b style="color: #38761d;">JS:</b><span style="color: #38761d;"> </span> Not even.<br /><br /><b style="color: magenta;">HM: </b>Sorry. I had to <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5X7ir97goHA&feature=youtu.be&t=2m39s" target="_blank">google that.</a><br /><br /><b style="color: #38761d;">JS:</b><span style="color: #38761d;"> </span>I will do my Katharine Hepburn impression for you some time. You will be impressed. <br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LaFapbOhAhw/U7RWbvb8TEI/AAAAAAAABn0/_kx0ssS7mf8/s1600/african+queen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LaFapbOhAhw/U7RWbvb8TEI/AAAAAAAABn0/_kx0ssS7mf8/s1600/african+queen.jpg" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: purple;"><i>"Maybe you'd get a little more writing done without this Satan juice."</i></span></td></tr>
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<b style="color: #38761d;">JS:</b><span style="color: #38761d;"> </span>ANYWAY, I do have enough of a start, and enough research, that I can continue. The challenge did give me that-- a flying leap.<br /><br /><b style="color: magenta;">HM: </b>Oh well. But YES! See, we both made big plans that were super optimistic.<br /> <br /><b style="color: #38761d;">JS:</b><span style="color: #38761d;"> </span>You know what the big downfall for me was? The whole seven days a week thing. I needed one day to get the rest of my life in order. One day of respite. I struggled to write every day, and once I transgressed that rule, it was easy to let the whole thing slide. Like, "Oh well, if I'm not getting this part of it done I'm already screwed so..."<br /> <br /><b style="color: magenta;">HM: </b>Yeah, it's easy to feel like you're sliding, so you may as well give up.<br /> <br /><b style="color: #38761d;">JS:</b><span style="color: #38761d;"> </span>Exactly. Today, however, feels DELICIOUS. So many possibilities of things to do, with no guilt. How 'bout you? Are you going to miss the pressure?<br /> <br /><b style="color: magenta;">HM: </b>Nope, not one bit. Now I feel great, since I have some good samples… which I wouldn't have if I didn't do this whole thing<br /> <br /><b style="color: #38761d;">JS:</b><span style="color: #38761d;"> </span>And what's your plan for going forward?<br /> <br /><b style="color: magenta;">HM: </b>Build a portfolio website, and try to connect to people in the world of editorial illustration. But also/mostly, write! I missed writing. I still worked on essays, but didn't post them. I'm excited to go back to sharing.<br /> <br /> And you? Will you keep working on the book?<br /> <br /><b style="color: #38761d;">JS:</b><span style="color: #38761d;"> </span>I think so, though now there’s also a short story I've been wanting to revise, plus an old stage adaptation that I’ve got to revamp for a production next year. And selling the book that’s already written. It’s all in the realm of good productive stuff.<br /> <br /><b style="color: magenta;">HM: </b>Awesome!! You've got the writing activated, so keep going, even if it's on other projects!<br /> <br /><b style="color: #38761d;">JS:</b><span style="color: #38761d;"> </span>Well, I'm glad we went through this together.<br /> <br /><b style="color: magenta;">HM: </b>Me too. Thank you so much for inviting me to do this with you! <br /> <br /><b style="color: #38761d;">JS:</b><span style="color: #38761d;"> </span>It was MUCH less lonely a venture.<br /> <br /><b style="color: magenta;">HM: </b>Agreed.<br /> <br /><b style="color: #38761d;">JS:</b><span style="color: #38761d;"> </span>Until next time... any final thoughts?<br /> <br /><b style="color: magenta;">HM: </b>When I was little, I got very frustrated when I didn't have time to create every picture/craft/play I wanted to. My mom would tell me, "Holly, it's okay. You don't have to do ALL your ideas. Some ideas just stay ideas. And the ones that become real things are the best ones anyway."<br /> <br /> I think about that all the time, even now.<br /> <br /><b style="color: #38761d;">JS:</b><span style="color: #38761d;"> </span>Wise words, Mom. I think she trumps Zac Efron. Speaking of which, how many Efrons got created?<br /> <br /><b style="color: magenta;">HM: </b>Only 4, surprisingly.<br /> <br /><b style="color: #38761d;">JS:</b><span style="color: #38761d;"> </span>He was such a part of this whole challenge, sadly. Our patron saint. No wonder I was doomed.<br /><br />HM: <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ktDqqHaBqdY/U7RWbdMJFXI/AAAAAAAABns/b0EocuLKr2U/s1600/holly+zac.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ktDqqHaBqdY/U7RWbdMJFXI/AAAAAAAABns/b0EocuLKr2U/s1600/holly+zac.jpg" height="320" width="272" /></a></div>
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<br /><b style="color: #38761d;">JS:</b><span style="color: #38761d;"> </span>Nice. It's like he's looking down from the heavens. Good night, Ms. Golightly.<br /> <br /><span style="color: magenta;"><b>HM: </b></span>Goodnight! </div>
James Siehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02368546657754244068noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1856283094279090353.post-70172585207793712292014-05-30T14:13:00.001-07:002014-05-30T14:13:53.543-07:00The Bitter and the Sweet Blog-- Guess Who I Play?<div style="margin-left: 36px; text-indent: -36px;">
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NZXctAk2uL8/U0TOuaHfQ_I/AAAAAAAABhE/vYt8kn2VMVI/s1600/90-day+novel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NZXctAk2uL8/U0TOuaHfQ_I/AAAAAAAABhE/vYt8kn2VMVI/s1600/90-day+novel.jpg" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;"><br />In which we check in our participants</span></span><span style="font-size: large;"> of the 90-Day Challenge</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;">,</span></span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;">one happy and </span><span style="font-size: large;">one hapless, </span><span style="font-size: large;">at the 2/3 mark,</span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;"> and discover that things are looking up. <b>But not for everyone.</b></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8pwrLVxESdY/U4jnSW8tOZI/AAAAAAAABnA/V3f_YoCSMo0/s1600/holly+.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8pwrLVxESdY/U4jnSW8tOZI/AAAAAAAABnA/V3f_YoCSMo0/s1600/holly+.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: purple;"><i>Some of Holly's work</i></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><br /><b><span style="color: #38761d;">James Sie: </span></b></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #323333;">We’re on day, what? 56? Are you on track?</span><br />
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Holly Meyers:</span> </b><span style="color: #323333;">Okay, slightly less focused that I thought, bc I'm still technically behind by a few. BUT some pictures are way more detailed than the original parameters required, so I give myself some credit for that.</span><br />
<b style="color: #323333;"><br /></b></span><b><span style="color: #38761d;">JS: </span></b><span style="color: #323333; letter-spacing: 0px;">How MANY are you behind?<br />
<b><br /></b></span></span><b><span style="color: magenta;">HM: </span></b><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #323333; letter-spacing: 0px;">Only 9.<br />
<b><br /></b></span><b><span style="color: #38761d;">JS: </span></b><span style="color: #323333; letter-spacing: 0px;">Hmm.. last time it was 7.<br />
<b><br /></b></span></span><b><span style="color: magenta;">HM: </span></b><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #323333; letter-spacing: 0px;">IT WAS MY BIRTHDAY. </span><span style="color: #323333; letter-spacing: 0px;">THIS WEEKEND WAS BUSY.<br />
<b><br /></b></span><b><span style="color: #38761d;">JS: </span></b><span style="color: #323333; letter-spacing: 0px;">Oh, so <i>BIRTHDAYS</i> are exempt. And busy <i>WEEKENDS</i>. </span><span style="color: #323333; letter-spacing: 0px;">Can we be just done with this?<br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></b></span></span><b style="color: black;"><span style="color: magenta;">HM: </span></b><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">NO, we will get through it.<br />
<b><br /></b></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b style="color: black;"><span style="color: #38761d;">JS: </span></b>C’mon, let’s just delete all our blogs and no one will be the wiser. We'll wake up in the shower and it will all have been a dream.<br />
<b><br /></b></span></span><b style="color: black;"><span style="color: magenta;">HM: </span></b><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">And we'll be our 17-year-old selves again, and go back to high school and try to get recruited for college basketball. </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;">Oh wait that's a Zac movie.</span></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MBfZyzRswJU/U4jnPIXhtPI/AAAAAAAABmk/Ntjqj0rCvok/s1600/zac6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MBfZyzRswJU/U4jnPIXhtPI/AAAAAAAABmk/Ntjqj0rCvok/s1600/zac6.jpg" height="320" width="214" /></a></div>
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<b><span style="color: #38761d;"> JS: </span></b><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">It all comes back to Zac.</span></span></div>
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<b><span style="color: magenta;"> HM: </span></b><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Always does.</span></span></div>
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<b><span style="color: #38761d;">JS: </span></b><span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">I</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">t's negative conditioning; I'm starting to HATE the thought of Zac. Because he represents crappy writing and guilt.<br />
<b><br /></b></span></span><b style="color: black;"><span style="color: magenta;">HM: </span></b><span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">No way. By the end of these 90 days, when you have your first draft, </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;">he'll be a vision again.</span><br />
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<b><br /></b></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><b></b></span></span><b style="color: black;"><span style="color: #38761d;">JS: </span></b><span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">If I have a first draft. IF.<br />
<b><br /></b></span></span><b style="color: black;"><span style="color: magenta;">HM: </span></b><span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">So how is it going?<br />
<b><br /></b></span></span><b style="color: black;"><span style="color: #38761d;">JS: </span></b><span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Everything I wrote in my last blog was a lie. All that affirming shit. </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I’m miserable.<br />
<b><br /></b></span></span><b style="color: black;"><span style="color: magenta;">HM: </span></b><span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Oh noooooo.<br />
<b><br /></b></span></span><b style="color: black;"><span style="color: #38761d;">JS: </span></b><span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Just drudgery drudgery and wondering what the hell I'm doing. Though it's amazing how a promise to myself becomes so binding, like I'm pretending it's an actual deadline. </span></span><b><span style="color: #38761d;"> </span></b><span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;">I'm afraid that I'm going to get to the end of this and then look at all the wreckage and not know what to do with it.</span><br />
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<span style="color: purple; font-style: italic;"> [full disclosure: the book </span><u style="color: purple; font-style: italic;">does</u><span style="color: purple; font-style: italic;"> warn against this darkness descending, and says I'll eventually move beyond it]</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b><br /></b></span></span><b style="color: black;"><span style="color: magenta;">HM: </span></b><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">If that happens, at least you will have created some original wreckage, and that counts as producing something.<br />
<b><br /></b></span></span><b style="color: black;"><span style="color: #38761d;">JS: </span></b><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Hrmph. Anyhoo, many days missed, word count perilously low. I keep thinking I should just stop now and work on it in my usual methodic way, but that would preempt the challenge.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b><br /></b></span></span><b style="color: black;"><span style="color: magenta;">HM: </span></b><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Exactly. We're in this challenge for a reason, so chaalllleeenngggeee ourselves and our normal patterns. </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Maybe the last third will be the breakthrough phase.<br />
<b><br /></b></span></span><b style="color: black;"><span style="color: #38761d;">JS: </span></b><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Maybe gilded monkeys will fly out of my butt.<br /><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6SrDSD-bEUI/U4jsAJ7XNZI/AAAAAAAABnE/wIxZHud7QqQ/s1600/winged+monkey.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6SrDSD-bEUI/U4jsAJ7XNZI/AAAAAAAABnE/wIxZHud7QqQ/s1600/winged+monkey.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"> How are <i>you</i> feeling about it?<br />
<b><br /></b></span></span><b style="color: black;"><span style="color: magenta;">HM: </span></b><span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;">I'm feeling good, but nervous! A few people at the new job have caught wind of this 90-day thing and have gone so far as to send <a href="http://unemployedonpurpose.tumblr.com/" target="_blank">my blog</a> to art people. Like, legit art directors and stuff. It's freaking me out. Now I feel like I have to get super organized with a real website and business cards or something.</span><b><br /></b><br />
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<b><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mhp6Ordp7QM/U4jnPAA-f3I/AAAAAAAABm4/A_emaHg3awM/s1600/wings.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mhp6Ordp7QM/U4jnPAA-f3I/AAAAAAAABm4/A_emaHg3awM/s1600/wings.jpg" height="320" width="223" /></a></b></div>
<b><br /></b><b style="color: black;"><span style="color: #38761d;">JS: </span></b><span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Wow!</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><br />
</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b><br /></b></span></span><b style="color: black;"><span style="color: magenta;">HM: </span></b><span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Yeah. Mostly, said Art People have been very friendly and polite, giving me good advice about the business of editorial illustration.<br />
<b><br /></b></span></span><b style="color: black;"><span style="color: #38761d;">JS: </span></b><span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Editorial illustration. Explain, please.<br />
<b><br /></b></span></span><b style="color: black;"><span style="color: magenta;">HM: </span></b><span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Magazine art directors hire people (like... me?!) to create illustrations for articles, online products, and even covers. It's a lot of freelance, so if I want to get in the game, I need to be legit.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-weight: bold;">JS: </span><span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Oh! And is that the field you've been focused on?</span></span><br />
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<b><br /></b></span></span><b style="color: black;"><span style="color: magenta;">HM: </span></b><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Well, it wasn't my original plan! I thought maybe it would get my blog a little more traffic (which it has), but I didn't think I'd need to mobilize so soon! I actually got one little gig for a fellow NYU alum, to create a poster for an event in Brooklyn next month!<br />
<b><br /></b></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><b></b></span></span><b style="color: black;"><span style="color: #38761d;">JS: </span></b><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Look at you! Gilded monkeys aflight!<br />
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Does it affect your work on the challenge, knowing it's being scrutinized?</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b><br /></b></span></span><b style="color: black;"><span style="color: magenta;">HM: </span></b><span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Big time. I thought I could get away with casually posting just anything, but now I'm paralyzed with fear.<br />
<b><br /></b></span></span><b style="color: black;"><span style="color: #38761d;">JS: </span></b><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #323333;">Some actual trepidation!!</span><br />
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HM: </span></b><span style="color: #323333;">I only sit at my computer paralyzed with fear until I remember that someone thought it was worthy of a magazine, then I feel confident again.</span><br />
</span><span style="color: #323333; letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="color: #323333; letter-spacing: 0px;"><b><br /></b></span><span style="color: #323333; letter-spacing: 0px;"><b></b></span></span><b style="color: black;"><span style="color: #38761d;">JS: </span></b><span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Do your hands get tired, squeezing all those lemons into lemonade?</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><b style="color: black;"><span style="color: magenta;">HM: </span></b><span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Bahahaha!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span></span><b style="color: black;"><span style="color: #38761d;">JS: </span></b><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">So, I guess this has all been worth it. I guess it ennobles MY efforts, knowing that it will have gotten YOU somewhere. I feel... downright philanthropic.<br />
<b><br /></b></span></span><b style="color: black;"><span style="color: magenta;">HM: </span></b><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Seriously!! I wouldn't have done this without the challenge you set up! THANK YOU.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">But you're not off the hook about your own writing.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><b><br /></b></span></span><span style="color: #38761d; font-weight: bold;">JS:</span><span style="color: #38761d;"> </span>[grouse grouse grouse] <span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Okay, I guess I can suffer through one more month.<br />
<b><br /></b></span></span><b style="color: black;"><span style="color: magenta;">HM: </span></b><span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Yay k bye!</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: purple;"><i>[Note: Sorry if there's weird spaces and tabbing and stuff; for some reason this posting has been acting up and I'm too tired to try and figure it out. Also, I figure I should actually do some, oh you know, actual WRITING, instead of mucking with it more.]</i></span></div>
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James Siehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02368546657754244068noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1856283094279090353.post-69304879304720540792014-05-14T10:46:00.001-07:002014-05-14T10:50:57.084-07:00Mid-Way— The Slog Blog<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<i style="line-height: 20px;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">"Every block of stone has a statue inside it and it is the task of the sculptor to discover it."</span></i><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NZXctAk2uL8/U0TOuaHfQ_I/AAAAAAAABhE/vYt8kn2VMVI/s1600/90-day+novel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NZXctAk2uL8/U0TOuaHfQ_I/AAAAAAAABhE/vYt8kn2VMVI/s1600/90-day+novel.jpg" height="200" width="134" /></span></a><span style="color: #444444; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-size: large;">I won’t lie— it’s been a slog. </span><span style="font-size: small;">A month and a half into my 90-Day Challenge—halfway!—with two weeks of writing every day (well, <i>almost </i>every day) and it's been a lot of placeholder writing, with occasional flashes of inspiration. </span><span style="font-size: small;">Hard to finagle the time, especially with end of the school year activities, and <i>Doug!</i> elbowing for time. What I’ve written is probably 75% unusable, as I dutifully scramble to get from Point A to Point B to Point C in whatever form it comes out in. Quite different from my usual delicate snail’s pace, my sporadic but painstaking method of writing. It’s hewing at granite instead of carving scrimshaw.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">And yet. My wise friend and former playwriting teacher Linda Jenkins (who is herself developing a 90-Day Playwriting book, due out this summer) sent me some encouraging words: </span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: large;">“Remember—it isn't forever, just three months. </span></span></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: large;">And, you're building good new muscles for discipline.”</span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">It’s true—there is something to be said for making yourself set aside a daily block of time to write, no matter what. It’s giving yourself permission to Do as Authors Do. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: 0px;">The daily grind is also helpful for the </span><span style="font-weight: normal;">creative</span><span style="font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: 0px;"> process: returning to the world of your novel day after day, you find it never quite leaves your thoughts; the story is marinating, untended, in your brain. It’s much easier to dive back into the writing the next morning, as bad as it sometimes is, because you’ve somehow figured out what’s lacking and have come up with other possibilities: your subconscious had been noodling with it while you slept. You haven’t let the trail grow cold.</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dCNIjDMdoUA/U3OXC8uA99I/AAAAAAAABl8/XxxOCWHEO9g/s1600/golem.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #444444;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dCNIjDMdoUA/U3OXC8uA99I/AAAAAAAABl8/XxxOCWHEO9g/s1600/golem.jpg" height="239" width="320" /></span></a><span style="color: #444444;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">And, let’s face it, after two weeks of actual writing I’ve got 10,000 words on the page. 10,000 words </span></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">that were not there before. A rough-hewn shape from a block of granite is a better place to be than looking at said block of granite every day and thinking, "I should really do something with that one day." </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small; letter-spacing: 0px;">It's an ill-favored thing, sir, but mine own. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;">The doorbell rang just as we were getting ready for dinner. Doug went to answer it as I was taking out the plates. A delivery. I knew what it was even before he started whooping.</span> </span></h1>
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small; font-weight: normal;">I continued setting out the plates even when he came into the kitchen, waving the parcel about madly. “Do you know what it is?” he asked excitedly. I did, but it might as well have been an Amazon order of tennis socks for all the emotion I was mustering. A slip of the knife, and there they were, exposed to the air and for all the world to see:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I could barely bring myself to take one of the manuscripts out. I willed my heart to pound at a more measured beat. I may have felt a bit nauseated. The truth is, joy has never been an easy emotion for me. There is rarely a moment of happiness that does not seem to me to have a second shoe attached, ready to smash down at a moment’s notice. So I let my joy unspool slowly and quietly over the next few hours. I have only now dared to open the “uncorrected bound manuscript” and look inside. My editor, Sara Goodman, had warned me that they would not be pretty, that future galleys would look much more designed.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">But I have to say: they look beautiful to me.</span></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0qXQb2g4090/U2h1HZKrWiI/AAAAAAAABlU/oBB7chP9-iU/s1600/montgomeryclift.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; color: #333333; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0qXQb2g4090/U2h1HZKrWiI/AAAAAAAABlU/oBB7chP9-iU/s1600/montgomeryclift.jpg" /></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7Sjct8OK8u8/U2h1HRWTNVI/AAAAAAAABlQ/CCAsMypRGcA/s1600/care+and+feeding.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; color: #333333; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7Sjct8OK8u8/U2h1HRWTNVI/AAAAAAAABlQ/CCAsMypRGcA/s1600/care+and+feeding.jpg" /></a><span style="color: #333333; font-family: inherit;">These copies, a few months before the actual book launch, are for a very specific function—I need to get them to literary fiction and/or graphic novel authors who may say a few kind words about my book for publicity’s sake. It's all about the blurbs. They start the buzz going. So far, I have been lucky enough to have two writers I have long admired agree to read it: </span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: inherit;"><b><a href="http://www.dianawagman.com/" target="_blank">Diana Wagman</a></b> </span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: inherit;">(The Care and Feeding of Exotic Pets) </span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: inherit;">and </span><b style="color: #333333; font-family: inherit;"><a href="http://www.noelalumit.com/" target="_blank">Noel Alumit</a></b><span style="color: #333333; font-family: inherit;"> (Letters to Montgomery Clift). My editor at St. Martin's, of course, has a few </span><span style="color: #333333;">other</span><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> names up her sleeve. My dream roster </span>would also<span style="font-family: inherit;"> include Alison Bechdel, Michael Chabon or Lynda Barry— if anyone out there are BFF's of theirs, let me know!</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: inherit;">On my nightly walk with the dog, all the plants </span><span style="color: #333333;">seemed to glow in the moonlight, bending upwards with anticipation.</span><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> Three blocks from my house I </span>swear<span style="font-family: inherit;"> I saw a deer (though it may have been my Patronus) bounding up my street. Life, at this moment, seems very alive with possibility.</span></span></div>
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James Siehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02368546657754244068noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1856283094279090353.post-8374891035000568262014-05-05T11:08:00.000-07:002014-05-05T11:09:11.309-07:00Zac Efron Hijacks My Week 4 Blog <div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;">Disney movies. And now Zac Efron. Since beginning this 90-Day Novel Challenge I've been checking in with my cohort and pal Holly Myer (who is going to be drawing 90 illustrations in 90 days) and our conversation has been turning ever to the sunny side, much to my dismay. </span>I chalk it up to Holly's pernicious and persistent optimism. I thought I was immune but perhaps it has taken root even in this parched and barren land. The girl will not go dark! </span>I swear, if my book ends with a basketball game or a musical number set in the halls of a high school, my attorneys will be contacting her.<br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">We might blame Holly's positive attitude on her upbringing by a Methodist Pastor mother, but Doug's Dad was a Methodist minister and we know how </span><i style="font-family: inherit;">that </i><span style="font-family: inherit;">turned out:</span></div>
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Here's our chat-conversation from last week. Yes, I realize it's late, but, you know, I've been WRITING (and yes, I have been making my quota):</div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: magenta;">Holly Meyer:</span><span style="color: #c27ba0;"> </span><span style="color: #323333;">Hello! it's been a while!</span></span></span><br />
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</span><span style="color: #38761d;">James Sie</span></span><span style="color: #323333; letter-spacing: 0px;"> Okay, before we get started, I have something serious to discuss with you.</span></span><br />
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</span><span style="color: magenta;">HM: </span>O<span style="color: #323333; letter-spacing: 0px;">h wow, what is it??</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: magenta;">HM: </span>PERF</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;">JS: </span>I don't want you to be upset, but… I'm not sure I'm feeling it anymore.<br /><b><br />
</b><span style="color: magenta;">HM: </span>Zac? Or the project?</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;">JS: </span><span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;">I mean, he's gone from being this friendly, approachable guy to something more… fratboy-ish. That perpetual pursed grimace on his face, like he's vaguely pissed off—</span><br />
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</b><span style="color: magenta;">HM:</span><span style="color: magenta;"> </span><span style="color: #323333;">Well. Maybe it's to promote the new movie where he's a pissed-off frat boy.</span><br /><b style="color: #323333;"><br />
</b><span style="color: #38761d;">JS:</span><span style="color: #38761d;"> </span>—t<span style="color: #323333;">hat macho posturing— wait...</span> <span style="color: #323333;">Are you saying that he's actually so good as a performer that</span><span style="color: #323333;">…that he's inhabiting the IMAGE of a pissed-off frat boy, but is not actually becoming one?</span></span></span><br />
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ipqRIOp_OZQ/U2fHReW958I/AAAAAAAABjk/JmHkpvxotuM/s1600/hollyzac.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ipqRIOp_OZQ/U2fHReW958I/AAAAAAAABjk/JmHkpvxotuM/s1600/hollyzac.jpg" height="400" width="213" /></a><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #323333; letter-spacing: 0px;"><br />
<span style="color: magenta;">HM: </span>He's that gooood.</span><span style="color: #323333; letter-spacing: 0px;"><br /><b><br />
</b><span style="color: #38761d;">JS: </span>Ohhhh. I'm back in. I'm guessing, judging by your pastel Easter Zac, that you have not lost the faith.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #323333; letter-spacing: 0px;"><b><br />
</b><span style="color: magenta;">HM: </span>Nope. Never.<br />
</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><b style="color: #323333;"><br />
</b><span style="color: #38761d;">JS:</span><span style="color: #38761d;"> </span>Let's talk projects. <span style="color: #323333;">It's almost been a month, can you believe it?</span> <span style="color: #323333;">A MONTH.</span><br /><b style="color: #323333;"><br />
</b><span style="color: magenta;">HM:</span><span style="color: magenta;"> </span><span style="color: #323333;">I knowwwww! I'm a little behind.</span><br /><b style="color: #323333;"><br />
</b><span style="color: #38761d;">JS:</span><span style="color: #38761d;"> </span><span style="color: #323333;">How behind? </span><br /><br />
</span><span style="color: #323333; letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: magenta;">HM: </span>23. I can make it up!<br /><b><br />
</b><span style="color: #38761d;">JS: </span>Okay… not bad...</span></span><span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;">What happened?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #323333; letter-spacing: 0px;"><br /></span><span style="color: #323333; letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: magenta;">HM: </span>I had a few busy weekends of family Easter, then wedding mania. Excuses, I know.<span style="color: magenta;"> </span>I haven't lost motivation at all, just time. </span></span><span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;">How's your progress?</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><br /><b style="color: #323333;"><br />
</b><span style="color: #38761d;">JS:</span><span style="color: #38761d;"> </span><span style="color: #323333;">Oy. I'm in a terrible terrible mood today, because tomorrow I have to start ACTUALLY WRITING.</span><br /><b style="color: #323333;"><br />
</b><span style="color: magenta;">HM:</span><span style="color: magenta;"> </span>O<span style="color: #323333;">oooh. The planning stage is over?</span><br /><b style="color: #323333;"><br />
</b><span style="color: #38761d;">JS: </span><span style="color: #323333;">Yes. It's been great just doodling, as it were, without the pressure of writing. And I hadn't put NEAR enough time into it, but I did show up for at least fifteen minutes every day but one.</span><br /><b style="color: #323333;"><br />
</b><span style="color: magenta;">HM:</span><span style="color: magenta;"> </span><span style="color: #323333;">That's pretty good!</span><br /><b style="color: #323333;"><br />
</b><span style="color: #38761d;">JS:</span><span style="color: #38761d;"> </span><span style="color: #323333;">Now, I've got to write. Around 1000 words a day-- 3-4 pages.</span> <span style="color: #323333;">IMPOSSIBLE!</span><br /><b style="color: #323333;"><br />
</b><span style="color: magenta;">HM:</span><span style="color: magenta;"> </span><span style="color: #323333;">Oh wowww that's a lot!</span><br /><b style="color: #323333;"><br />
</b><span style="color: #38761d;">JS:</span><span style="color: #38761d;"> </span><span style="color: #323333;">I'm the kind of person who, in high school and college, would just compose on the typewriter. No </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #323333;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xQ1QZEHFFec/U2fSfIcHGsI/AAAAAAAABks/7Mh0sMW7yQc/s1600/jack1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xQ1QZEHFFec/U2fSfIcHGsI/AAAAAAAABks/7Mh0sMW7yQc/s1600/jack1.jpg" /></a></span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #323333;">drafts. Everything had to be perfect.</span> </span></span><span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;">This was the days of no cutting and pasting, you know.</span><span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #323333;">Or do you know? You probably don't know.</span> <span style="color: #323333;">There was only white out, if you had a typo. No do-overs.</span> <span style="color: #323333;">Or correction tape. WAAAAAAAY before your time.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: magenta; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;">HM: </span><span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;">I used to use a typewriter in my mom's office!</span></div>
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<span style="color: #38761d;">JS: </span>For your ABC's!</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: magenta;">HM: </span>I WAS 12! It taught me a lot about patience and attention to detail.<br /><b><br />
</b><span style="color: #38761d;">JS: </span>So the idea of allowing oneself to write badly, just to get it all down, is going to be extremely uncomfortable for me. I don't know what's going to happen. It IS a lot of pages!<br /><b><br />
</b><span style="color: magenta;">HM: </span>That's the idea of a big challenge though!<br /><b><br />
</b><span style="color: #38761d;">JS: </span>Sigh… I guess… </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;">If I get stuck I'm just going to keep writing "All work and no play make Jack a dull boy."</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><br /><b><br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="377" mozallowfullscreen="" src="https://giphy.com/embed/bHxtHle8RKyiY" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="500"></iframe> </b></span></span></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0vMVfBtA8IQ/U2fHRInKtNI/AAAAAAAABj4/hidaBHIktgI/s1600/wiig.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; color: #323333; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0vMVfBtA8IQ/U2fHRInKtNI/AAAAAAAABj4/hidaBHIktgI/s1600/wiig.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; color: #323333; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a><span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #38761d;">JS: </span>Have you had any epiphanies while drawing, in connection with your book?</span></span><br />
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</span></span><span style="color: magenta;">HM: </span><span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;">I've realized I admire strong female characters. Most of the reference photos I've banked are of ladies with opinions.</span><br />
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</b><span style="color: #38761d; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;">JS: </span><span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;">On your </span><a href="http://unemployedonpurpose.tumblr.com/" target="_blank">tumblr</a><span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;"> I recognize Lena Dunham, but who's the first woman?</span><br />
<b style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;"><br />
</b><span style="color: magenta; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;">HM: </span><span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;">I just posted a Kristen Wiig, in a scene from Bridesmaids. She's a character who feels like she's losing her connection with an old friend, and having trouble finding her way on her own.</span><br />
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It's interesting, especially, as my friends are starting to get married! I feel like I'm always defending my life as a single lady. Stuff like that. GIFs I've been using all year suddenly have more meaning to me.<br /><b><br />
</b></span></span><span style="color: #38761d;">JS: </span><span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Does 2 more months of this stretch out like a barren wasteland, or a yellow brick road?<br /><b><br />
</b><span style="color: magenta;">HM: </span>Yellow brick road, for sure. (Dorothy's another good character!) What about you? Especially now that you're starting to write 1000 words a day?!<br /><b><br />
</b><span style="color: #38761d;">JS: </span>Tomorrow. I'm filled with dread. Because I'm going to have 60 days worth of dreck to despise.<br />How's that for optimism!<br /><b><br />
</b><span style="color: magenta;">HM: </span>Room for improvement.<br /><b><br />
</b><span style="color: #38761d;">JS: </span>The author talks a lot about self-destruction, about not letting doubt impede you. I do have to say this: tonight, I went for a walk with the dog and almost immediately he began pulling, straining at the leash. There, as if it were waiting for me, was a coyote. He just sat there in the dark, staring at me.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: magenta;">HM: </span>Ooooooh.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: purple;"><i>Look right above the stone post--you can see its eyes shining. I swear.</i></span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #38761d;">JS: </span>"Don't back out now." I imagined it saying.<br /><b><br />
</b><span style="color: magenta;">HM: </span>Seriously. THE ANIMALS KNOW. Now you really have to. Or else.<br /><b><br />
</b><span style="color: #38761d;">JS: </span>Yeah, they might ambush me otherwise. </span></span><span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;">Okay, I've got to get to sleep so I can get up and write (eeeeeeeesh). L</span><span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">et's check in soon. Wish me luck.<br /><b><br />
</b><span style="color: magenta;">HM: </span>GOOOOD LUUUUUCK.</span></span><br />
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James Siehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02368546657754244068noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1856283094279090353.post-66696658121994713402014-04-18T20:28:00.001-07:002014-04-18T20:29:29.658-07:00The Bloom Falling Somewhat Off the Rose<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NZXctAk2uL8/U0TOuaHfQ_I/AAAAAAAABhE/vYt8kn2VMVI/s1600/90-day+novel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NZXctAk2uL8/U0TOuaHfQ_I/AAAAAAAABhE/vYt8kn2VMVI/s1600/90-day+novel.jpg" height="640" width="428" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>Dear 90-Day Novel:</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>Okay, I just want to say up front that I think you're really special. These last three weeks, they've changed me. You've introduced me to worlds I never knew before. I think about you every night, and our daily dates have been inspiring. You're an inspiration. I'm glad you're in my life. </i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>But.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>I have to say, some days it's been hard. Wait wait, before you get upset, let me finish. I know it's not news to you that you can sometimes be... demanding. Remember, we used to laugh about it? And I know it's what I signed on for but... I mean, every day? Do we really need to meet every single day? I want to be with you, sweetie, but it can get a little overwhelming. Not you, just... Life. Trying to fit it all in. And sometimes I feel like I need a little break, you know, to recharge, to find myself again, (and, you know, to check the Twitter and the Book of Face from time to time. :) )</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>Oh, I can just see you, reading this, that little furrow starting to deepen between your eyebrows, that pulse on the side of your neck asserting itself... don't go there. I know you were straightforward about what you expected. I know your feelings about commitment. After all, it's there in your name. All or nothing. 90 days or bust. And I'm not bailing. I am absolutely not. It's just that sometimes I feel like I don't have it in me, every day, and I have to confess that sometimes... I'm just going through the motions (I'm just being honest here).</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>Anyway.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>I thought you'd want to know. God, now I feel awful. Not even a month in, and I'm already balking? What's wrong with me? Jesus. I'm weak. It's me, it's totally me. Let me prove myself. I want to go the distance with you, baby, I do. </i></span><i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Please give me another chance. I promise I'll do better. I love you. Just forget I ever wrote this, okay?</i><br />
<i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></i>
<i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">See you tomorrow,</i><br />
<i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></i>
<i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">J</i><br />
<i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></i>
<i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">PS. I am totally counting this letter as today's work. </i><br />
<i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></i>
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<i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></i>James Siehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02368546657754244068noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1856283094279090353.post-48672091196795610132014-04-09T08:46:00.000-07:002014-04-09T09:00:02.717-07:00Week 1 Recap— 90-Day Challenge Gone Disney<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b>WARNING: The following text-chat recap of my <a href="http://sieworld.blogspot.com/2014/04/no-april-fools-90-day-challenge-begins.html" target="_blank">90-Day Creative Challenge</a> contains scenes and images of intense Disney-fication. May be too saccharine for more cynical readers. How this element crept into my blog is unknown. Perhaps it is a natural result of bringing together two people who met in an animation studio. I, however, blame Holly and <a href="http://unemployedonpurpose.tumblr.com/" target="_blank">her blog</a>. She is a pernicious influence.</b><br />
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<b>Reader discretion advised</b>.<br />
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</b></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><b>Holly Myer: </b></span><span style="color: #323333; letter-spacing: 0px;">Hello!</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #2a8c1e; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;"><b>James Sie: "</b></span><span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;">I will find my way</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I can go the distance</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I'll be there someday</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">If I can be strong</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I know every mile</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Will be worth my while</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I would go most anywhere</span></span><br />
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">To feel like I belong..."</span></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Nk70g4wwt1Q/U0TOukmapvI/AAAAAAAABg8/XW3n-6QaSDM/s1600/hercules.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Nk70g4wwt1Q/U0TOukmapvI/AAAAAAAABg8/XW3n-6QaSDM/s1600/hercules.jpg" height="155" width="200" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #f580f7; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>HM: </b></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Hercules?</span></span><br />
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</span><span style="color: #2a8c1e; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>JS: </b></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I thought I would freak you out by quoting a Disney song,<b> Ms. Frozen.</b> And, </span></span>this morning <span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;">for some reason I could not stop watching youtube videos of this guy named Chris Villain singing Disney. He dressed up as a mermaid <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8vliTkMJbCs&feature=player_embedded" target="_blank">and sang “Part of Your World.”</a> I was horrified and yet I could not look away.</span><br />
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<b style="color: #f580f7;">HM: </b><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Hmmm. Sounds like an incredible person.<br />
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</b></span><span style="color: #2a8c1e; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>JS: </b></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">As you can see I am making productive use of my time.<br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #f580f7; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>HM: </b></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">How was the first week?</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><br />
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</b></span><span style="color: #2a8c1e; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>JS: </b></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">So, my week? Well, I sprang out April 1st full of energy and I got an INCREDIBLE lot done. Felt like all this bottled creative effort was finally shaken and sprayed out. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">By the third day, I was thinking, "Is 90 days over yet?"<br /><b><br />
</b></span><span style="color: #f580f7; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>HM: </b></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Hahaha. Pace yourself! But at least a strong start is a good sign!<br />
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</b></span><span style="color: #2a8c1e; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>JS: </b></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I have to say, against my better snarky judgement, that this book is very helpful.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">It's having me write <i>around</i> the plot without diving in, like tinkering at the edges, so that I can be open to all possibilities. He keeps talking about holding the story loosely at this point.<br />
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</b></span><span style="color: #f580f7; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>HM: </b></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I can see the strategy there, to figure out how little things work in that world before you get wrapped up in bigger events.<br />
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</b></span><span style="color: #2a8c1e; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>JS: </b></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Exactly. I have to do all these exercises, like imagining the worst day of the antagonist's life, or the thing that the protagonist loves above all else, or something she has never told anyone...<br />
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</b></span><span style="color: #f580f7; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>HM: </b></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Those sound like fun assignments!<br />
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</b></span><span style="color: #2a8c1e; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>JS: </b></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Fun? Sometimes. Sometimes I get impatient. But it also helps because you're not thrown into "Write! Write your book NOW!" I'm not allowed to actually write pages until next month. <b>It’s like productive procrastination!</b><br />
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And you? I see from your blog there are lovely pictures popping up, like crocuses in Spring...</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #f580f7; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>HM: </b></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">The first week went well! I am on track with 7.5 drawings. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #2a8c1e; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>JS: </b></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"> Nice!</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #f580f7; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;"><b>HM: </b></span><span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;">It's been really interesting trying experiments with color--I'm already moving past the idea of having an outlined/black&white version of each…because I like the colors!</span></div>
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</span><span style="color: #2a8c1e; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;"><b>JS: </b></span><span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;">Is it manipulation of photos?<br />
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</b></span><span style="color: #f580f7; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;"><b>HM: </b></span><span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;">No, I'm drawing on layers on top of a photo, then I remove the photo.<br />
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</b></span><span style="color: #2a8c1e; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;"><b>JS: </b></span><span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;">Ah… very cool. And do they pair with your writings?<br />
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</b></span><span style="color: #f580f7; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;"><b>HM: </b></span><span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;">Some do so far. I'm going through the GIFs I've used on the blog, and choosing a frame (or two) to study to create the individual image. Plus, I've been going through family photos and using the same technique. It's a very thoughtful process, looking at all the little details of someone's face.<br />
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</b></span><span style="color: #2a8c1e; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;"><b>JS: </b></span><span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;">How long does each one take?<br />
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</b></span><span style="color: #f580f7; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;"><b>HM: </b></span><span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;">The more monochrome style takes about an hour, full color takes longer. And with some, I'm adding the background, which adds another 30 minutes.<br />
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</b></span><span style="color: #2a8c1e; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;"><b>JS: </b></span><span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;">Wow. You're really putting the time in! I love the frowning, direct-to-the-camera one. I see a book cover!</span><b><br /></b><br />
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</b><span style="color: #f580f7; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;"><b>HM: </b></span><span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;">Ha, thanks! I'll take that into serious consideration!<br />
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</b></span><span style="color: #2a8c1e; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;"><b>JS: </b></span><span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;">Are you surprised that you have somehow found the time?<br />
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</b></span><span style="color: #f580f7; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;"><b>HM: </b></span><span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;">Yeah, actually. I spent a lot of quiet time this weekend working. I also tried drawing at Republic of Pie, a local coffee/live music/study hall place I love.<br />
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</span><span style="color: #2a8c1e; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;"><b>JS: </b></span><span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;">That is a great place-- good tables. And good pie.</span></div>
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</span><span style="color: #f580f7; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>HM: </b></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">A caught a lady looking in the reflection of my glasses to see what I was drawing…then the lady started talking to her friend about Marilyn Monroe.</span></span><br />
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</b></span><span style="color: #2a8c1e; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>JS: </b></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I'm afraid I'm a Starbucks man, myself. Mundane, I know, but habitual.</span></span><br />
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I HIGHLY recommend Bose noise-canceling ear bud headphones. They are made by magical elves. Costs more than a Luxury Suite at the Venetian, but worth every penny. They tune out most everything. </span></span><br />
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</b></span><span style="color: #f580f7; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>HM: </b></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I imagine. Perfect music is important to creative work!<br />
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</b></span><span style="color: #2a8c1e; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>JS: </b></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Yes. I have found that playing "Da Pacem" by Arvo Part automatically makes my writing sound 200% more compelling.</span></span><br />
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<b style="color: #2a8c1e;">JS: </b><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Are you looking forward to this week? I am terrified of not sustaining.<br />
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</b></span><span style="color: #f580f7; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>HM: </b></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I'm a little nervous about keeping up with my solid start, yes. But definitely looking forward to more coloring time. I'm four [years-old]. But I get excited to draw, like when I was four. So that's good.<br />
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</b></span><span style="color: #2a8c1e; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>JS: </b></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><i>Very</i> good. And you have images to plaster around and remind you how good it is.<br />
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</b></span><span style="color: #f580f7; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>HM: </b></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Yes. Thank you. And now, thanks to you, I have "Go the Distance" on repeat.<br />
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(the Lucas Grabeel version, obvi.)<br />
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</b></span><span style="color: #2a8c1e; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>JS: </b></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Oooh. Sorry. It was meant ironically.<b><br />
</b> So, good luck on the week. See you on the flip side!</span></span></div>
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</b></span><span style="color: #f580f7; letter-spacing: 0px;"><b>HM: </b></span></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Thanks. You too!</span>
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James Siehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02368546657754244068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1856283094279090353.post-14296457594280843602014-04-01T12:27:00.000-07:002014-04-01T12:27:26.031-07:00No April Fools— 90 Day Challenge Begins Today! <div style="color: #323333;">
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<span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">I’ve done it. After a massive assist from my illustrator, Sungyoon </span></span></span><span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">Choi, the manuscript of <b>Still Life Las Vegas </b>has been delivered to my editor Sara at St. Martin's Press.</span> Nothing so hefty as a giant stack of papers boxed up and shipped, just a digital PDF D</span></span><span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;">ropboxed over the internet, but it's a weighty milestone nonetheless. </span><span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit; font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0px;">Godspeed and a safe voyage, oh little book!</span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Now, what do I do with the year before it actually makes it to print? I can think of nothing better than to begin something new, and I'm getting my ass in gear with the help of a book called “The 90-Day Novel. </span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">(Incidentally-- what's up with </span>all of<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> these 90-day improvement programs? </span>Novel in 90 Days, <span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">P-90X, 90-Day rehab— it seems one can do ANYTHING in 90 days. Has "90 days" become the new "40 days and 40 nights" for our non-biblical times?) </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;">I’ve finished the prep from the book, which included writing about my fears (chief amongst them being the urge to throw the book across the room) and what I believe most strongly in (pot pies). I’m ready for my start date of today, April 1st. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;">I’ve decided to document this process (misery loves company) and I’m joined in my 90-day odyssey by Holly Myer, writer of the blog <a href="http://unemployedonpurpose.tumblr.com/" target="_blank">“Unemployed on Purpose,”</a> who also has a project she wants to get off the ground. This 26-year-old, unrepentant optimist has agreed to regularly check in with me, just so we can keep each other honest. Here’s the text transcript of our initial Facebook chat:</span><br />
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<span style="color: #215818; letter-spacing: 0px;"><b>James </b></span><span style="color: #38571a; letter-spacing: 0px;"><b>Sie</b></span><span style="color: #215818; letter-spacing: 0px;"><b>:</b></span><span style="color: #323333; letter-spacing: 0px;"><b> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></b>Okay, before we begin: which character from "Girls" do you most identify with?<br />
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</span><span style="color: #bc50aa; letter-spacing: 0px;"><b>Holly Myer:</b></span><span style="color: #323333; letter-spacing: 0px;"><b> </b>I'm 1/2 Hannah and 1/2 Shosh. I've thought a lot about it.<br />
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</b></span><span style="color: #38571a; letter-spacing: 0px;"><b>JS:</b></span><span style="color: #323333; letter-spacing: 0px;"><b> </b>Excellent answer! You pass the first test.</span></span><br />
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So... let's talk about our projects, shall we?<b> </b>You first.<br />
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</b></span><span style="color: #bc50aa; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;"><b>HM: </b></span><span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;">Okay. I want to make at least 100 illustrations for my based-on-blog book.<br />
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</b></span><span style="color: #38571a; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;"><b>JS:</b></span><span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;"><b> </b>What kind of illustrations, and in what medium?<br />
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</b></span><span style="color: #bc50aa; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;"><b>HM: </b></span><span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;">Digital drawing/painting via Photoshop.<br />
I hope to have a black/white and full color version of each one.</span><span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;"><br />
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</b></span><span style="color: #38571a; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;"><b>JS:</b></span><b style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;"> </b><span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;">100... it'll be a little more than one a day, then, yah? Will you feel like Julie whatsername going through every one of Julia Child's recipes?</span><b><br /><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: purple;"><i>Does that make me<br />Meryl Streep? Yay</i></span></td></tr>
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</b><span style="color: #bc50aa; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;"><b>HM: </b></span><span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;">Yeah, at least one a day. And yes, I do rather see myself as an Amy Adams-type in this situation. If only Chris Messina were my husband.</span><span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;"><br />
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</b></span><span style="color: #38571a; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;"><b>JS:</b></span><span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;"><b> </b>We'll work on that.<br />
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</b></span><span style="color: #bc50aa; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;"><b>HM: </b></span><span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;">Great. I wish I could say I was planning to study the works of a legend like Julia Child, but I'm just going through my own essays to think about them again, with a more visual perspective<br />
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</b></span><span style="color: #38571a; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;"><b>JS:</b></span><span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;"><b> </b>I, for my part, am writing a novel about coyotes. Real ones, not smuggler ones.</span><span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;"><br />
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</b></span><span style="color: #bc50aa; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;"><b>HM: </b></span><span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;">I'm hooked, tell me more!<br />
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</b></span><span style="color: #38571a; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;"><b>JS:</b></span><span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;"><b> </b>I'm hoping it's going to be like Game of Thrones, but with <i>canis latrans</i>. And set in Los Angeles.</span><span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;">Lots of nudity. With fur. Or let's say... "Watership Down" meets "The Sopranos."<br />
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</b></span><span style="color: #bc50aa; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;"><b>HM: </b></span><span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;">That's an incredible mashup.</span><span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="color: #323333; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: 0px;">Sounds like it has HBO written all over it.</span></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GM1eEYxvA1Q/UzsAlpAJjBI/AAAAAAAABgM/3A3Mm_Hekqg/s1600/coyote.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GM1eEYxvA1Q/UzsAlpAJjBI/AAAAAAAABgM/3A3Mm_Hekqg/s1600/coyote.jpg" height="200" width="153" /></a><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b><br />
</b></span><span style="color: #38571a; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>JS:</b></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b> </b>There are coyotes in our neighborhood, and when they pass me and my dog on our walk they stare at me as if to say, "Man, are you working on that thing yet?"</span></span></div>
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Holly, thanks for pushing me to do this. And I'm sure your boundless optimism will be equal parts infuriating and inspiring.<br />
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</b></span><span style="color: #bc50aa; letter-spacing: 0px;"><b>HM: </b></span><span style="color: #323333; letter-spacing: 0px;">You're welcome! In sixth grade, I won the Initiative Megaskill Award, and it's one of my proudest accomplishments.<br />
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</b></span><span style="color: #38571a; letter-spacing: 0px;"><b>JS:</b></span><span style="color: #323333; letter-spacing: 0px;"><b> </b>I’m frightened.<br />
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</b>We have two people who may be joining in. Grace is working on a screenplay, and Wendy is wanting to do a daily kind of journal, but still unsure about the parameters. They're down with the 90 days. So, a variety!<br />
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</b></span><span style="color: #bc50aa; letter-spacing: 0px;"><b>HM: </b></span><span style="color: #323333; letter-spacing: 0px;">Wooo! WE'RE ALL IN THIS TOGETHER </span><span style="color: #7b219f; letter-spacing: 0px;"><i>[Note: “High School Musical” reference]<br />
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</b></span><span style="color: #38571a; letter-spacing: 0px;"><b>JS:</b></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><b style="color: #323333;"> </b><span style="color: #323333;">Though I keep feeling like this is "Ten Little Indians" and we'll be whittled down one by one. </span><span style="color: purple;"><i>[Note: this has already happened, as Grace has unfortunately had to bow out]</i></span></span></span></div>
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Do I lose you with the "Ten Little Indians" reference?<br />
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</b></span><span style="color: #bc50aa; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>HM: </b></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">No, I get that one!</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">And I refuse to be whittled.<br />
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</span><span style="color: #38571a; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>JS:</b></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b> </b>So, Thelma, ready to rev the engine and go over the cliff?</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><br />
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</b></span><span style="color: #bc50aa; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>HM: </b></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Yes, Louise!</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><br />
</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">(Thelma and Louise, right?)<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: purple;"><i>Holly would have made a GIF.<br />I just... can't. </i></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #38571a; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>JS:</b></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b> </b>Very good.<br />
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</span><span style="color: #bc50aa; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>HM: </b></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">(I've never watched the whole movie)<br />
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</b></span><span style="color: #38571a; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>JS:</b></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b> </b>Shit. Sorry for the spoiler.</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">WATCH THE WHOLE MOVIE, FOR CHRISSAKE!<br />
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</b></span><span style="color: #bc50aa; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>HM: </b></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">It's okay. Troy Bolton goes to Cal at the end of “High School Musical 3: Senior Year.” Now we're even.<br />
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</b></span><span style="color: #38571a; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>JS:</b></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b> </b>Maybe we should just leave it there. Check on you next week?<br />
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</span><span style="color: #bc50aa; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>HM: </b></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Yes, please!</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><br />
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</b></span><span style="color: #38571a; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>JS:</b></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b> </b>Good luck! Happy April!<br />
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</b></span><span style="color: #bc50aa; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>HM: </b></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">To you, as well!</span></span></div>
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James Siehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02368546657754244068noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1856283094279090353.post-84254285417540038822014-03-20T00:07:00.000-07:002014-03-20T09:36:01.892-07:00I'm a Twit, and Other Revelations<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eEZ7a2eJPrA/UyqE3rDPoVI/AAAAAAAABd0/1Vun6Lg9Q6c/s1600/twitter2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eEZ7a2eJPrA/UyqE3rDPoVI/AAAAAAAABd0/1Vun6Lg9Q6c/s1600/twitter2.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">So, first thing: I’ve joined that adult ball pit of ampersands, hashtags, and bad abbreviations: Twitter. Can U blieve it? </span><b style="letter-spacing: 0px;">@SieJames</b></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;">. </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Twitter has all the self-absorption and addictive monitoring of Facebook, but with fewer words. Smaller chunks of creamy indulgence, kind of like bite-sized Three Musketeer Bars. <i>Love me. Love me! LOVE ME</i>! my @ pleads, scanning the twitterverse for Followers. <i>I’ll like you if you like me! I’ve made a platform! Come sit on it!</i></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><i> Listen to my words! LISTEN TO MY WORDS!</i></span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-58qKAaXfFw4/UyqE2oGaYDI/AAAAAAAABd4/q1z_WIJt06o/s1600/90-day+novel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-58qKAaXfFw4/UyqE2oGaYDI/AAAAAAAABd4/q1z_WIJt06o/s1600/90-day+novel.jpg" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="color: purple;">This is the book you're<br />gonna have to go g</span></i><span style="color: purple;">et.</span></span></td></tr>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">#GodSaveMySoul. </span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">In more productive news, I’ve decided to tackle my need for a writing deadline head-on by imposing one on myself. I’m going to follow the directives of a book: <b>The 90-Day Novel: Unlock the Story Within</b>. It’s written by Alan Watts, bestselling author of <b>Diamond Dogs. </b>It’s all the rage out here in Hollywood, with friends of mine involved in 90-day screenplays, 90-day stage plays, and, for all I know, 90-day haikus. In his book, Watts wants you to write fast, without any left-brain criticism or revision, just to get the story down on the page. He’s got the whole three months mapped out, and by the end of it, you’re supposed to have a first draft. What could possibly go wrong?</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">My first step is to commit to the program by telling everyone here that I’m doing it. No backing out; or else what will my <i>tens</i> of readers think of me? <span style="font-size: large;">The second step is to invite YOU to share in the </span></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px; text-decoration: line-through;"><span style="font-size: large;">pain</span></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"> fun. </span>I’m sure that there are some budding authors among you who have been wanting to get a novel out of their head and onto the page. Let me be your kick in the butt! Join me! I’ll check in with you and offer inspiration and/or threats. C’mon! <b>I want to start April 1st,</b> so you have plenty of time to <a href="http://www.amazon.com/The-90-Day-Novel-Unlock-within/dp/0983141207/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1395296118&sr=8-1&keywords=90-day+novel" target="_blank">get the book</a> and be ready to go. This is your chance— you could have a first draft by summer!</span></span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tiE2J4PeX5A/UyqE2_Z0n-I/AAAAAAAABdg/PPzLNnBWDH4/s1600/holly+Myer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tiE2J4PeX5A/UyqE2_Z0n-I/AAAAAAAABdg/PPzLNnBWDH4/s1600/holly+Myer.jpg" /></a></div>
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I’ve already got one cohort, my friend Holly Myer, with whom I worked on Kung Fu Panda: Legends of Awesomeness. She was the casting assistant at Nickelodeon, and is now a casting coordinator at Dreamworks. I discovered that she also writes when I came across her blog, <a href="http://unemployedonpurpose.tumblr.com/" target="_blank"><b>Unemployed on Purpose</b>, </a>which she is now wanting to turn into a book, complete with her own drawings. Holly is kicky and fun. She is also, I should mention, <i><b>twenty-six</b></i>, which means she will not get any of my “McMillan & Wife” references. That may be a problem. It also means she’s up on all that social media jumble that pains me so. I bet she LIKES to tweet. We’ll be live-tweeting the whole 90 days! (is that a thing?)</span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Here’s how I sealed the deal with Holly (on Facebook, of course):</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="color: #021eaa; letter-spacing: 0px;"><b>Holly Myer: </b></span></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">So maybe April 1? or before? your call!<br />
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</span><span style="color: black;"><span style="color: #021eaa; letter-spacing: 0px;"><b>James Sie: </b></span></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Hmm... April 1 has a nice ring to it, but maybe that's just me wanting to procrastinate.<br />
</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><br /></span><b style="color: #021eaa;">Holly: </b><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">No, it sounds good! There's an "I'm not foolin' ya" joke in there somewhere<br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #021eaa; letter-spacing: 0px;"><b>James: </b></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">And while it'll probably just be you and me, we'll give it a shot. Forward!!</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b style="color: #021eaa;">Holly</b><b><span style="color: #0b5394;">: </span></b><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #323333;">GO US!</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><b><span style="color: #021eaa;">James</span><span style="color: #3b5998;">: </span></b></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Oh, this'll be good. I can already see I'm going to be the crusty curmudgeonly one.</span><span style="color: #3b5998; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br />
</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Not sure yet of the format of the reportage... I guess it depends on how pithy we are.<br />
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</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><b><span style="color: #021eaa;">Holly</span><span style="color: #3b5998;">: G</span></b></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">otcha. Well, I'm up for whatever format allows me to properly express unapologetic optimism<br />
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</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><b><span style="color: #021eaa;">James</span><span style="color: #3b5998;">: </span></b></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Oy. All right, grandpa needs his shut-eye. </span></span><br />
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</span><span style="color: black;"><span style="color: #021eaa; letter-spacing: 0px;"><b>Holly: </b></span></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Thanks! And FB is good! I'm also on Twitter & Instagram @hollymyer</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><br />
</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">if you want to follow me for on-the-hour Zac Efron updates</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><br />
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</span><span style="color: black;"><span style="color: #021eaa; letter-spacing: 0px;"><b>James Sie: </b></span></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">(Long sigh)... yes.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">You can tell Holly is young by her lack of punctuation at the end of her instant messages. Call me old-fashioned, I like a good period.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Join us! We can shake our collective heads at Holly’s unbridled positivity. And then she can teach us how to set our </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px; text-decoration: line-through;">VCR’s</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"> DVR’s. Take a look at Holly's take on our little challenge <a href="http://unemployedonpurpose.tumblr.com/post/80143524299/90-day-something" target="_blank">here</a>. And let me know if you want in on the challenge by posting in the comments section below, or private message me on Facebook. Or... (long sigh) you can tweet me. </span></span></div>
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<i><span style="color: purple; font-family: inherit;">update: Holly informs me that, yes, you can live-tweet anything. She once live-tweeted a mixed tape. Clever girl. </span></i><br />
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James Siehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02368546657754244068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1856283094279090353.post-23244976377475956452014-03-10T06:51:00.000-07:002014-03-10T06:51:25.950-07:00The Black Magic of Threes<br />
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<i style="background-color: #cfe2f3;">"I have of late--but</i></div>
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<i style="background-color: #cfe2f3;">wherefore I know not--lost all my mirth, forgone all</i></div>
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<i style="background-color: #cfe2f3;">custom of exercises; and indeed it goes so heavily</i></div>
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with my disposition that this goodly frame, the</div>
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earth, seems to me a sterile promontory, this most</div>
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excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave</div>
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o'erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted</div>
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with golden fire, why, it appears no other thing to<br />
<i>me than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapors."</i></div>
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<i style="background-color: #cfe2f3;">—Hamlet, Act II scene 2</i></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">This entire week I've been restless and malcontent. Life has felt dull and blunted; the savor has gone from my existence. I have, of late, lost all my mirth. </span>What could be causing me to skulk about like a Melancholy Dane? Is it the limbo of a book on the verge of being published, but not yet so? The trepidation of the next project, ever-gestating but fearful of the page? The ending of one series (fond farewell, Kung Fu Panda!) without a new one in sight? Or does the fault lie in our stars, a retrograde Mercury or a Moon void of course?<br />
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Or, could I be swearing off of computer games yet again?<br />
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Ah yes. It's time for <a href="http://sieworld.blogspot.com/2011/03/curse-of-birds.html" target="_blank">another round</a> of Give up Games for Lent. Last time was a few years ago, and since then I've managed to shed myself of flinging birds, vegetable-eating zombies, words with friends (and myself), even crosswords. In fact, with the exception of the Simpsons: Tapped Out, I've managed to steer clear of almost all games.<br />
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Until <b>Threes</b>.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3A0HL0zFLbc/Ux1AcW-nL7I/AAAAAAAABdE/RlXF5wAKd80/s1600/threes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3A0HL0zFLbc/Ux1AcW-nL7I/AAAAAAAABdE/RlXF5wAKd80/s1600/threes.jpg" height="320" width="179" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;"><span style="font-size: small; text-align: start;"><span style="color: purple;"><i>Must. Get. To. 384!!</i><i>!</i></span></span><span style="font-size: small; text-align: start;"> </span></span></td></tr>
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This little, simple app is a quick trifle— push 1 & 2's together to make 3's. Push 3's together to make 6's, and so on. Nothing, right? A quick one-off while waiting in the pick-up line in school, or as my Starbucks soy latte is being brewed. That's what I thought. Then, these tiny gaming sessions, these insidious little grains of 1's and 2's, started expanding and filling up my head like so much digital quinoa, spiraling out of control. Soon, there was no time to read, to ponder the universe, to write; only Threes, Threes with its jaunty little soundtrack and ironic soundbites. Threes, the gateway game that led to me twisting texts, spelling towers and uniting runes. Damn you, Threes!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CSOIEYkHdy8/Ux07y6gROjI/AAAAAAAABc0/zgF41dZ_P2o/s1600/simpsons.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CSOIEYkHdy8/Ux07y6gROjI/AAAAAAAABc0/zgF41dZ_P2o/s1600/simpsons.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: purple;"><i>My beloved Springfield... surely all<br />this tapping is teaching me SOMETHING.</i></span></td></tr>
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So I've stopped games until the Resurrection. I haven't gone cold turkey, though; I still get to play Simpsons once a day ( I do have a civic responsibility to my little town, after all) but nothing else. Serving as my Methadone is a great language app— Duolingo—which is teaching me Italian (it's free!) and has a game-like interface. I tried to convince Doug that my mind game— Brain Fit— should also be allowed, but he has vetoed it, coal-hearted blackguard that he is. <span style="font-size: large;">Maybe, just maybe, if enough of you think brain training apps are good and valid and tell Doug, I'll be allowed to play! Post your comments! Clap your hands! BELIEVE! BELIEVE!</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qsekhYE1Rlc/Ux07yeKhhxI/AAAAAAAABcw/PQf8B_CaCBU/s1600/IMG_0254.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qsekhYE1Rlc/Ux07yeKhhxI/AAAAAAAABcw/PQf8B_CaCBU/s1600/IMG_0254.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="color: purple;">Duolingo, Italian: I've still got three hearts! Buono! </span></i></td></tr>
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It's been hard. No little pop of excitement to cap off a chore, no endorphin release to look forward to between dinner and dishes. Just... me. However, this morning may have marked a turning point. I woke up (after having sprung forward an hour, no less) clearer in my head. The sky was roiling with white clouds, the outside was still redolent with jasmine, and there was an almost priapic sense of anticipation in the air. Maybe this respite is doing me good. Maybe I'll get something productive done...<br />
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Or maybe I'll just conjugate a few Italian verbs.<br />
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<i>Che Buono!</i><br />
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James Siehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02368546657754244068noreply@blogger.com2