Writing
The Cable Gal
Lauren Hough, writing for The Huffington Post, has one of those great pieces that could easily be turned into a fun little TV series. So much material from Russian mobsters to a sex dungeon to Dick Cheney.
I can’t tell you about a specific day as a cable tech. I can’t tell you my first customer was a cat hoarder. I can tell you the details, sure. That I smeared Vicks on my lip to try to cover the stench of rugs and walls and upholstery soaked in cat piss. That I wore booties, not to protect the carpets from the mud on my boots but to keep the cat piss off my soles. I can tell you the problem with her cable service was that her cats chewed through the wiring. That I had to move a mummified cat behind the television to replace the jumper. That ammonia seeped into the polyester fibers of my itchy blue uniform, clung to the sweat in my hair. That the smell stuck to me through the next job.What a great read.
Any Deaths of the Children I’ve Kidnapped Are Strictly the Fault of Parents Who Didn’t Pay the Ransom
In Slate, this essay by Matthew Dessem is an eye-opening satire. I can’t even find a good pull quote to illustrate its point. The whole thing is so well-written that I urge you to read it yourself.
How to Write a Hallmark Christmas Movie
My family adores Hallmark Christmas movies. My wife and step-daughter start watching as soon as they start hitting the airwaves, which I believe is sometime in October. They have a grand time commenting on the plot and the characters. They were doing this way before the drinking game became popular.
The general joke about these movies is they are all essentially the same movie ― woman comes home for the holidays has a meet-cute with a local man who they initially dislike, but end up falling in love by the time the snow falls on Christmas. Sprinkle in a big tree, ice skating, gingerbread making, cookies, and a non-threatening ex and you have a Hallmark Christmas movie.
Ruth Kinane, writing for Entertainment Weekly, interviewed two scriptwriters who have had movies made and they explain the ins and outs of Hallmark Christmas movie-making. I had no idea how many rules there are.
Right, there cannot be a single scene that does not acknowledge the theme. Well, maybe a scene, but you can’t have a single act that doesn’t acknowledge it and there are nine of them, so there’s lots of opportunities for Christmas. They have a really rigid nine-act structure that makes writing them a lot of fun because it’s almost like an exercise. You know where you have to get to: People have to be kissing for the first time, probably in some sort of a Christmas setting, probably with snow falling from the sky, probably with a small crowd watching. You have to start with two people who, for whatever reason, don’t like each other and you’re just maneuvering through those nine acts to get them to that kiss in the snow.It almost makes me want to give it a try.
The Return of the Light
One can’t go wrong subscribing to The Mission’s newsletter. I appreciate the stories most of all. The one below is from their last one of 2018. Happy Winter Solstice!
A young boy stood in a crowd. He held the hand of his father and his small fingers squeezed his Dad’s palm. His father smiled and gave the boy’s hand two quick squeezes back. As they walked, the young boy peeked his head in between the hips of strangers, moving his head left and right, hoping to get a better look at the early-morning event.It was too hard for him to see, so the father bent down to the small boy.
“Is it time yet?” the boy asked.
“Not yet, but soon it will be,” said his father.
“Why does it take so long?”
“Quiet,” the father said gently, “It is time you be patient and watch what is happening before you.”
The young boy and his father moved to an open space. His father put a finger to his lips to signal silence and the boy nodded. They stood in a clearing in the plaza and awaited the sunrise.
The boy knew little about why the people of his village gathered before the sunrise on this particular day. He had asked before, but no answer was given, so the mystery remained.
Finally, on this day, the boy’s father had told him he would find the answer. As the crowd stood in silent anticipation, the boy spoke again.
“But Father, why are we all here?” His father knelt down.
“Why must you talk during the ceremony, young one? Through the experience, you will learn the meaning.”
“Yes, but I don’t know why we stand to wait for the sun. It greets us every day, and yet for the last three days we haven’t eaten. And now we’re awake so early to wait for it?”
The father bent down on one knee, cupping the child’s face in his hands.
“Fine! I can tell you want answers, and maybe they will make this sunrise as meaningful as it should be. This is why we wait…”
The father explained that for three days, the Incas fast in preparation for the rising of the sun on this particular day. Once the sun rises, the crowd will crouch and kneel before it. Then two cups of chicha, a sacred beer made from corn will be offered as homage to the sun. The cup on the left will remain as an offer for the Sun, while the cup on the right will be shared amongst the Sapa Inca, the emperor of the Inca Empire, and his retinue.
Finally, the sun rose over the Andes. The people knelt with their golden cups and celebrated as Inti Raymi Rata had begun.
Soon the sun rose higher in the sky. The young boy watched in fascination as a mirror positioned in the piazza caught the sun’s rays and directed them to ignite a fire. This was the young boy’s favorite part. He liked the smell of brush and grass burning. It reminded him of the soups his mother made during supper, a time he always looked forward to when the darkness of night fell upon the land.
He looked at his father and he smiled. His father grinned, “It is important that you remember, young one, that this is a celebration of light, of a new beginning this time of year. Not all darkness is forever, and we remember that it passes by celebrating the light.”
The boy nodded his head in agreement one last time and replayed his father’s words in his head.
Since before recorded history, cultures around the world have hosted ceremonies like the Inti Raymi Rata to celebrate the return of the sun. This celebration signifies an appreciation of time, light, and new beginnings and takes place on the shortest day of the year - a day we know as the winter solstice.
Everyone faces dark periods in their lives - times where the seconds feel like hours and the darkness grows like a storm cloud over your life. Sometimes we forget that darkness will always end. When we forget this, the darkness can turn into fear, hate, and resentment. It can overwhelm us.
Enduring the darkness can be a powerful lesson, but it does not have to control us.
When we find ourselves in darkness, we can choose to go about our business like normal.
Or we can choose to make a point to get out and wait for the sun to rise. Light will always be present when we look for it. But it takes training and focus to wait for the light. It might take three days of fasting, getting up early on the winter solstice, and sacrificing those extra cups of holiday cheer you might want this holiday season. It might take getting up extra early to go out and wait for the sunrise.
The Incas remind us that holiday celebrations can be as simple as waiting for the return of the light.
For many cultures, the winter solstice signifies the beginning of a rebirth and a chance to start over again. What if we could stand in our own darkness and happily wait for the daybreak?
Darkness will always exist in our world, but remember that the sun will always rise.
Soon, the rays of light will emerge over the mountains, or through the clouds. When those rays come into focus they are strong enough to light fires.
When the winter or the darkness feel long, remember… the sun will return. We can stay mired in the darkness, or happily await and celebrate the return of the light.
Love in the Modern Age
Via Jason Kottke, I read about a new feature in the New York Times called Tiny Love Stories. They are short little vignettes of modern love in 100 words or fewer.
Madeleine Fawcett’s contribution made me smile –
We were in my hammock when I looked at the socks I was wearing, the ones he had lent me, and told him the words I was so scared to say: “I love you.” The hammock swayed, crickets chirped. “Thanks,” he said, “but I don’t yet.” He pointed at my feet. “Those don’t fit me. Do you want them?” I thought the hammock had tipped, thrown me violently out; he didn’t love me, this was it. But years later, we still lie in my hammock and I still wear those socks. He was right; they are too small for his feet.Kottke is right about Kristine Murawski’s story — it reads like an extended logline for a movie.
We were online content moderators taking down nude photos. All day, we sorted through thousands of photos and messages flagged as inappropriate on a meet-up app. We sat nearby, but our office had a strict no-talking rule, so our relationship began in silence as we sent each other funny things we found via Gchat. This led to more messaging until one day we grew tired of talking about nudes and decided to see each other naked instead.
Grinch Burns
Drew Magary, writing for The Concourse, has come up with the official ranking of Grinch burns. His top two are spot on.
1. Your soul is an appalling dump heap, overflowing with the most disgraceful assortment of deplorable rubbish imaginable, mangled up in tangled-up knots.Read the rest.2. You have all the tender sweetness of a seasick crocodile. (2a. Given the choice between the two of you, I’d take the seasick crocodile.)
I Found the Best Burger Place in America. And Then I Killed It.
Kevin Alexander’s story in Thrillist is a wonderful bit of writing. It’s so much more than a story about a story. It’s about blame, personal responsibility, and the power of the internet.
Do the Verb
Austin Kleon talks about titles versus doing the work.
So many people think you have to first call yourself an artist, know who you are and what you’re about, and then you can start making art. No, no, no. You do the stuff first, then you can worry about what it is, who you are. The important thing is the practice. The doing. The verb.His whole point is to forget trying to be a thing and just do the work that needs to be done. Doing the work gets you further than just wanting to be the thing.We aren’t nouns, we are verbs. Forget the nouns, do the verbs.
For me it’s saying I’m a writer, but haven’t really written. I mean, I have written and self-published some cool stuff, but I get that imposter syndrome sneaking in sometimes too.
Ultimately, I should just write and forget about being a writer.
You should do the verb too.
The Time Bandits of Southern California
Amy Wallace in GQ has a truly bonkers long read about thieves who stole luxury watches and the special agent who caught them.
On a quiet Monday around noon, two men dressed in black stepped onto an ascending escalator in the underground parking lot of an open-air mall in Century City in Los Angeles. By the time they had reached the top, they’d pulled on ski masks and they were sprinting.
This story gets turned into a movie in 5, 4, 3, 2…
Never Work a Day in Your Life Dream
J. Westenberg hates being a writer:
They say that if you do what you love, you’ll never work a day in your life. It’s bullshit. It’s not true. It’s a fabrication. It’s a quote splashed on an Instagram photo with too many hashtags and barely a scrape of meaning.There are times when I dearly love writing, and there are times when I dearly love being a writer, but there are moments that make me feel like I’m drowning. Those moments when it’s late at night, and there’s nothing but me and complete silence and the words won’t come. Those moments when I look back and hate the work that I’ve done. Those days where nobody reads, where there are no ideas, where I have no blood to give.
The truth is, your deepest most closely and personally held passion will still feel like work, when it requires work. When it requires sweat. When the pressure is looming above you and you’re struggling.
Why wouldn’t we want to have a life without work? A life without the pressure of getting shit done, a life where we don’t have liabilities and responsibilities that demand time and bandwidth and emotional and physical and intellectual labour? It sounds like a dream come true, but it really is only a dream.
Oh, do I want a life without work. I’m inherently lazy. Sometimes, I don’t want to do a thing.
Still, you power through. Passion is something you never want to lose. Even on the bad days. Even on the days you hate writing.
Paste and Match Style
My workflow includes a lot of copy and pasting of texts into documents. Alas, the formatting often comes with and I have to adjust and rearrange. You can paste without formatting, but that’s not necessarily what I want. More often, I want paste and match style.
Ally MacDonald points out a simple way Mac users can make pasting without formatting the default:
Want to improve your quality of life in 5 seconds?This change re-maps the default “Paste” keyboard shortcut to paste and match style.1. Go to System Preferences
2. Keyboard
3. App Shortcuts
4. All Applications –> add “Paste and Match Style” ⌘V
Done.
What a timesaver.
The Bizzare Story of the Seattle Mystery Vending Machine
Karl Smallwood writes about a strange vending machine with a mysterious history in Today I Found Out. It’s a great read about a truly odd tourist attraction.