Letter to a writer

Constance,

There is something I have been thinking about, and wanted to share with you. In class we talked about your piece, “Good hair, bad hair – thank you Toni Morrison!”. Its not so much the piece that I have thought much about, although it was very well written, and has entered my thoughts at times. Instead, it was a phrase you used when you were talking about it: “Intended Audience.”

I work at a bookstore, and I get questions that you wouldn’t even be able to make up. There was one day, a woman came up to me and asked where we kept the black authors. I didn’t understand the question, so I asked was there a book in particular she was looking for. She replied she was looking for Jerome Dickey. So I took her to fiction, to the D’s. Thanking me, she then re-asked her original question, do you have a section of black authors? Still a little confused, I replied that we had an African – American cultural studies section, but that authors were only separated by the content of the book.

My naivety aside, the question still sits in my head. If (“when” , say “when”) I get published, I don’t think I would like to be separated out but my colour, origin, shoe size, whatever.Shouldn’t my work be above such things? Words are not linked to skin colour, why should sentences, or paragraphs be?

Which goes back to another thing we talked about in class, “What does it mean to be a Black Writer”, and I was asked if I thought of myself as a white writer. The answer I gave was awkward, and long. But this too I have thought about.

When someone creates art, there is a part of them in that work. Sometimes it can be obvious, like a Dali, or Hemingway. Other times you have too look deeper, but it is there. So, if there is a part of me in everything I make, all of my art, from poetry to web graphics, what part of me am I showing?

But a discussion of race and writing is not where I am headed. This is not to be a letter from a white boy to a black girl, but a letter from a writer to a writer. Nothing more.

These two points, the lady in the bookstore, and the discussion of being a black writer lead directly back to that phrase you used. “Intended Audience.”

What part of me, that is in my work, would exclude someone from that group? Is there something about me that inherently creates an “intended audience”?

To me, intended audience says if I am not in that group, this piece will not mean anything to me. When I read your essay, I didn’t feel to be outside of some secret group. Quite the contrary, I felt as if I were being brought into a group, learning something about someone else I would have otherwise never known.

“Intended Audience” didn’t apply to the words in that essay. But it came up in discussion.

Take this piece, for example. It can be argued that you are the only one who this letter is intended for; that you are the “intended audience.” Does that mean that no one else could read it and gain something from it?

I guess what I am saying, is don’t sell yourself short with phrases like “intended audience”, and don’t hide a damn good essay behind them either. Your words speak for themselves, don’t limit them. Don’t limit yourself, plenty others will do it for you, putting qualifiers on you; black writer, woman writer, young writer, American writer, DC writer, blah blah blah. Let them worry about that. You worry about art, your art, because that is what an artist does. Adjectives are just semantics.

And phrases like “intended audience” sound too much like justification. Something the nothing I have read of yours needs.

-jacob

Pirates 2, Mummy 3 and Indy 4, a proposal

So once upon a time, after seeing the awesome that was Pirates of the Caribbean, I had a thought. It was a simple one: crossover movie. So this was my idea for that movie i put together all those years ago. Since then, Pirates 2 (&3), Mummy 3 and Indy 4 have in fact been made, but I still think my idea was better. This was an email, so awkward wording and typos will probably survive:

( ps. I am aware that Incans were in South America and Aztecs were in Mexico, so there is a location disparity in the story, but I am pretty sure I wrote this before lunch, so please have forgiveness. )

I figured it out, the greatest action adventure movie of all time. It is a Pirates of the Caribbean, Mummy, and Indiana Jones crossover. Allow me to expand:

In the beginning the British are chasing the Pearl and our band of Pirates in the open waters. The Pearl turns south and a mysterious storm takes both ships by surprise.

Flash forward to the 40’s

Indiana Jones is in Mexico searching for Aztec gold. Naturally where Indy is, there are Nazis.

Nazis find the Aztec gold and become zombies, just moments before Indiana Jones finds it.

He escapes on the Pearl which has just appeared off-shore.

They take the gold back to their stash in South America where the relic of the Scorpion King is kept.

Brenden Frasier and Arab Dude break in to kill some mummies, kill zombies. The Scorpion King is awakened anyway.

The crew of the Pearl tries to figure out how to forcefully change them back into normal Nazis. Meet up with the mummy crew on their blimp. (it is a dirigible)

The British show up to hunt the Pearl, and fight the Nazis. the Pearl saves them, Mister Stuffed Shirt starts to become cool.

The Scorpion King shows up and teams up with a South American mummy (which did exist) they start to restart the Aztec empire, Nazis change from zombie Nazis to resurrected Zombie Aztecs.

Indiana Jones breaks into the Aztec temple of the Sun and learns about the curse of the Aztec gold and mummy.

Brenden helps, but is definatly side-kick. He explains the Scorpion King (who is not a bug, but just the rock)

The Rock beats up some random Nazi-Aztec zombie just to prove he is still hard.

The Nazis have a hot archeologist who Indy saves on his way out.

Capt, Jack sparrow steals a U-Boat and doesn’t tell the Brits. names it “NA-NA-NU-NA-NA” and ties it to the Pearl for escape.

Brits contemplate leaving, because who cares about South America anyway.

The Aztec capital city becomes like it was when Cortez sacked it. The bad guys sacrifice some good guy in the name of badness.

Hot Nazi Archeologist is wooed by Jack Sparrow. It is Johnny Depp, she can’t say no (and Indy learned his lesson from the last movie).

The Nazi-Aztec-zombies try to take the Pearl, there is a great shipboard fight scene. Whips, guns, swords. good guys win.

They figure out that there is this thing (because there always is) inside the most guarded part of the city (where else would it be?) that will change the curse and turn the Rock into a bug and send the Nazis back to Europe.

The Brits and the Pearl make a distraction by attacking the shore. Nazi-Aztec-Zombies fight back. Red baron makes a cameo.

Small group consisting of Indy, Brenden, HNA (hot nazi archeologist), and Orlando break into the city to find the thing.

There is fighting.

Indy and HNA get to the temple while Brenden and Orlando do what they do best: kill undead.

The Nazi-Aztec-zombies realize what is going on, the Rock sends them all back to the city. The Pirates and Brits storm the beach, D-Day fashion, in pursuit.

Bruce Campell shows up to read the words. Then joins Orlando and Brenden in the undead beat down.

Indy and the SA mummy get into a fight. It’s Indy, so he kicks the mummy’s ass.

The words start to work and Nazi-Aztec-zombies are transformed back into Nazis.

And then they die.

Jack sparrow and Bruce Campell get into a one-liner competition whilst beating down the Rock.

All the bad guys die except one. Why? Because there is always one left.

The good guys take the Aztec gold and bury it? Burn it? You know, good guy “This aint gonna happen again” type of stuff. They fail.

The brits try to arrest the pirates, they escape on the “NA-NA-NU-NA-NA”

The HNA leaves with Jack.

Indy and Eve (who only shows up for this scene) agree to work together in academia.

Bruce campell says the words, drinks the juice and .. well you know the rest.

The British stay British.

Everyone rides off into sunset.

Final bad guy finds aztec gold, sinister laughter.

Cut scene to boston.

Bar with cannon. bootstrap is drinking a beer.

PW asks: Where are the Badly Behaved Writers?

I answer, this is a good place to start looking.

The article, written by asks a simple question: why have writers cleaned up their acts?

First off, let’s start with something. We haven’t. Not really. I’ve been to plenty of writer workshops and conventions, gotten loud, drunk and / or obnoxious with plenty of writers, poets, and editors. I’ve seen famous authors tramp around cross dressed, I’ve had to distract hotel security while parties were disbanded. I’ve had to search college grounds for hours for a fellow passed out poet.

Writers haven’t changed. Not really. Something else has changed, something has risen up which the author, Ms Amy Shearn, tries to get to, but doesn’t seem to find is, it is not the writers, but the business, the entity the THING that is publication has changed.

I dare say a lot of Bukowskis and Keroacs are being left forgotten in this climate. The Gonzo journalists and the over the top playwrites are side stages and personal blogs. What has happened is that the publishers aren’t taking those risks anymore.

Frankly, there is no reason too. Just like big music signing 10 small bands in hopes that two make it, why not just publish 10 unknown authors? Quantity over quality. Does that happen all the time? I have no idea, I am outside, unpublished. I have an advantage though, writing is not my job. Will it be one day? I can hope, yes?

At some point the greatness of an artist can overshadow their bad behavior. But at the same time, an artist’s bad behavior can very easily overshadow their art. In the business of making money, great art doesn’t really amount to anything. It is great sales that are important. If you are selling better than your behavior, or your behavior is contributing to your sales, then carry on. Otherwise…

Add on to all of this the propagation of blogs, micro-press, online publication, even Twitter and Facebook. No longer are books the only way a creative piece can get out. The issue with this is that no longer are people just buying books to find stories. You can be entertained instantly online.

So what has changed? There is more content. BIG publishers expect you to be well behaved (as Ms Shearn asks, are you TV presentable?) and more importantly, they expect you to produce. The audience has been distracted by the internet. Hold on, gotta check facebook.

Back.

Produce? Sure. Behave? Why? If I can’t make a living as a writer anyway (as many professionals have told me) then why clean up my act? (my act is no Chinaski, btw, but I have considered it before. Sometimes you get in a scrappin’ mood, you know? Except a poet gets into a scrappin’ mood and runs home to write about it rather than actually, you know, scrap.) And I would not be the only writer out there causing a ruckus, drinking until late hours.

So where are all the badly behaved writers? They are out there Ms Shearn, I promise you. Behaving badly probably as I type this.

But then again, if this bar didn’t have WiFi, I’d be doing something else.

P.S. As a postscript I’d like to talk to all the boring life writers out there. Go out and live. Seriously. Do you have to drink and party and sleep with strangers? Only near me. Go live. Hike. Travel. Learn and instrument. Dance with strangers. Stop and smell the flowers. Plant the flowers, and some vegetables. Learn about something hard, like calculus or the history of rope. Go to Horror conventions (see point number one). Live. Live. Live. Otherwise you’ll find yourself lost and writing about writing. Live, experience things.