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Category Archives: on my mind
Things I Ponder When I Should be Writing…
- Are the dust bunnies under the furniture gathering for a coup?
- How much coffee CAN one drink without having their heart explode?
- The Internet isn’t so much a series of tubes (thanks for that analogy, Ted Stevens) but more like a Slip ‘N’ Slide. Think about it…
- Why does the cat have to sleep on top of things? He can’t just sleep on the bed but must sleep on the one article of clean, folded clothing on the bed. Why?
- How long can I futz around before my crit partners yell at me to get my arse in gear?
OK, back to work. No really.
Saturday Night is Sci Fi Channel Night
Last time, I posted about Friday night sci fi goodness. For the most part, Dollhouse has been okay. A little slow the first episode, but the second was action-packed. It gave us some interesting background on the facility and a nice hint of what’ll be going on with Echo. I’m not seeing a lot of the Joss Whedon snappy dialogue I’d expected, but it pops up here and there. For example: “We have a situation. The kind you need to shoot at.” BSG is, well, BSG. Great human drama in the depths of space. Anyone beside me want to smack Saul? Yeah, I get the whole thing about Ellen, but still. He was an ass. And while Terminator hasn’t been the best I’ve seen I can wait for the big POW I’m sure will occur. Besides, my girl crush on Lena Headey and my love/fear of Shirley Manson as Catherine Weaver compels me to watch.
On to the flip side of being a sci fi fan.
One of my family’s (okay, one of MY) favorite activities is to watch the Sci Fi Channel’s original movies. It’s not because they are nuggets of science fiction brilliance. In fact, it’s for the complete opposite reason. Now, before I get blasted for admitting I mock these movies, let me just say that I love them for what they are. I know they are lower budget films. I know that the special effects required to make the average movie-watcher go “oooh….ahhh….” aren’t there. Funky CGI? Check. Guy in bad makeup and hairy suit? Check. And I’m more than half sure the cast and crew making these films are doing so with their tongues firmly planted in their cheeks. How could they not be? They’ve read the script, right?
So let’s break down a bit of the typical Sci Fi Channel original movie formula.
Plot: Generally, there is some beastie out to eat the humans and the human must somehow stop it. Simple, and it allows for gobs of action, blood, and mayhem. Beasties range from genetically altered snakes (ex: Anaconda and its sequels. Yes, I said sequels.), to mythological beings (ex: Wyvern, Hydra, Yeti, Abominable {tho it was more Sasquatch-y, but maybe they were playing word games. Oooh, how clever!}), to aliens (ex: Alien v. Hunter, Alien Lockdown, Alien Siege). No matter the creature, they are never vegetarians and there will be a number of humans with weapons trying to survive long enough to kill it. There is often a secondary plot running through the movie, usually involving the angst of the main character in some way.
Characters: You almost always know from the get-go who will live and who will die in an sf movie. If there is only one female character, she will usually live. If there’s more than one, the younger, prettier one lives. Hey, I don’t like it either, being not so young and pretty myself, but this is how the formula works. The hero is usually the guy the heroine likes, if not at the beginning then by half way through the movie. And yay on the Sci Fi Channel, because much of the time the hero isn’t the guy with the broadest shoulders and largest guns. It’s the computer geek or the biology professor who figures out how to thwart the beast in question. And there are times when the hero/heroine roles are “reversed” and it’s the woman who does the saving. There seems to be more gender equality in sf than in most genres, so for that alone I commend them.
How do you know who will be killed in a sf movie? It’s the operative who announces this is their last mission before they retire to the family farm in Iowa or wherever. It’s the soldier who, in the quiet moments before battle, pulls out the worn, creased picture of his wife and/or child. It’s the overzealous jerk who is gung-ho and wanting to just shoot everything but ends up being the one to rush the beast, sacrificing themselves so the others can escape. Though sometimes, this one gets a pass.
Usually one or more of the characters does something completely stupid, jeopardizing themselves and/or the rest of the group. This ticks me off and they are the first ones I like to see eaten. If they aren’t eaten, they’d better damn well have some kind of “Oh, I’ve been such an ass my whole life” revelation by the end. Even then, more often than not, I’d rather see them being eaten.
I don’t expect spectacular acting (sometimes my 8 year old telling me her tummy hurts and she just can’t go to school on the day of a test is more believable). Most of the movies use a cast of unknowns, and often the writer is also in the film. He may even be director and coffee guy. It comes with the lower budget territory. Let’s just say I admire these actors for their efforts.
But here’s something that has stunned me: the number of well known actors who have starred in more than a few of these movies. And I’m not talking about movies made years ago when they were first getting their resumes filled out. Rise, about vampires, stars Lucy Liu (yes, that Lucy Liu) and Michael Chiklis (you know, from “The Shield” on FX, played The Thing on Fantastic Four). It was filmed in 2007. There are other Sci Fi Channel movies where I recognize actors from stints on TV or from smaller movie roles. They aren’t making millions per film like Brad or Angie, but seem to be in a fair number of productions. So what on earth possesses them to take roles in a film like Rise or Wyvern or Anaconda? Did the producer have incriminating photos? Were they just in it for the fun? Certainly not to be recognized during awards season.
Films set in Alaska hold a special place for us. Most recently we watched Wyvern, about a dragon-like creature freed from a glacier, and another about South American killer ants that took up residence underground near an Alaska volcano. We enjoy them because of the way Alaska is depicted. They don’t insult the people here (though filmmakers, please keep in mind not ALL Alaskans wear fur all the time, decorate with moose antlers, and tote their 30-06’s to town to do grocery shopping) but we like spotting the mistakes they make. For example, in the one about the killer ants, it showed one of those green road signs telling you how far it is to the next town. They had the fictional town listed at 4 miles and Nome at 287, or some such. The problem: There is no road to Nome that is 287 miles long. But I guess Nome was recognizable and remote enough to give the viewer the sense of where they were and how far from “civilization” the action was set. Sure. Also, the surrounding area almost always looks suspiciously like the west coast of Canada, all green and full of trees, when it’s supposed to be set in the northern part of Alaska, which is tundra and not so green or tree-filled.
Once in a while I am pleasantly surprised by a film on this network. Last week, we watched Splinter. In the previews it promised to be scary and gruesome, like most Sci Fi Channel fare. I was ready to get all mocky but I enjoyed it for the most part. The beastie was determined to eat the humans it had cornered, and the hero and heroine were pretty much established from the opening, so it followed the formula. But the acting was decent and the characters behaved with some intelligence. OK, the disembodied hand reminded me of a demented Thing from “The Addams Family” but I said I was surprised at the quality, not stunned into calling the Academy Awards committee to demand it be nominated.
As goofy as I find most of the Sci Fi Channel’s movies, I’ll still watch them. And during commercial breaks they often put on Sci Fi Channel tips like “If you open the door to another dimension, be sure to know how to close it again.” Or, “If it walks quietly, it probably eats noisily.” Or, “If the thing living under your porch ate the dog, it’s probably not the cat.”
Those alone are worth the price of my cable bill.
Friday Night Sci Fi Goodness
The advantage of living in a small, relatively uneventful town is that I don’t feel terribly guilty about watching TV. Sure there are events scheduled throughout the year, friends to hang with and outdoor activities to do (ha!), but for the most part my family and I stick around the house. This means interacting with them, of course, which I do, but it also means I can set aside evening time for my favorite shows. And tomorrow night, I will hit the Trifecta of Sci Fi Television Viewing! Break out the popcorn and soda-pop! I’m so excited, I think I just peed a little.
Friday (2/13) marks the mid season return of Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles as well as Joss Whedon’s return to television with his new series Dollhouse, both on Fox.
Despite its less than rave reviews, I have enjoyed Terminator since it began last year. It’s tough for a television series to carry the burden of being the offspring of a successful movie franchise, but I feel this one has managed nicely. Scary robot dudes trying to enslave humanity? Check. Time-traveling soldiers trying to protect their future leader? Check. Lena Heady and Summer Glau as two of the most kick-ass women on network TV? Check and check. The premise of the movies is maintained without losing the high-octane action, but the slower pace of a television series allows fabulous characterization. For example, for the first season and then some, Sarah Connor (Heady) is continually “on”. She has to protect her son no matter what and does so with the ferocity of a mother lion. As I watched, I kept thinking, this woman is going to blow. It didn’t happen right away, and I’m glad she was shown as such a strong person. Events kept pushing and pushing at Sarah, and she held tough, as she needed to. Until she started beating the “dead” robot’s chip. The buildup and eventual display of her frustration added to the character. Did she realize her fierceness kept her and her son apart emotionally? Can she and John have a normal(ish) mother-son relationship? At the same time, they still have some Skynet baddies to overthrow. Geez, raising a teen is tough enough without having someone out to kill him.
Speaking of humanity, Cameron (Glau) is a machine who displays glimmers of humanity now and then. I think this is a nice reflection of Sarah’s situation. It’ll be interesting to see how that plays into future episodes.
After Terminator is the premiere of Dollhouse. I have heard little more than it’s premise, which sounds cool, and I also like Eliza Dushku (Echo, in Dollhouse, Faith in Buffy the Vampire Slayer series, and Tru in Tru Calling). And Joss Whedon? Well, he is a god as far as I’m concerned. The man writes perfect snickerdoodle dialogue: snappy and golden. I watch Firefly and Serenity over and over again mostly for the dialogue. I would give an arm to write half as well as he does. So I have high hopes for Dollhouse. I’m sure I won’t be disappointed.
Battlestar Galactica is also on Friday night. I’m late coming to this series and need to rent the previous seasons to complete the goodness, but I am totally hooked and greatly disappointed it will end in a few weeks. The ride had been short but phenomenal. Unfortunately, BSG and Dollhouse are on at the same time. We’ll have to decide who gets watched and who gets recorded. It will be a difficult decision. But no worries, whichever is recorded will be seen immediately following the other. Of that there is no doubt. ETA: Dollhouse and BSG are not on at the same time afterall. Yay! But I had to pick up DD #2 at a friend’s and missed the first 15 minutes of Dollhouse 🙁 I’m sure I can find it on Hulu or the Fox site.
So how can I justify three hours of endless television viewing where I all but ban my kids from the room (They are welcome to watch if they sit and watch, not come in the middle and ask me what’s going on) and make the poor dogs wait until everything is over before letting them out to pee? Research. No, really. What these three shows have in common are strong female characters and amazing premises. When I write, I want my characters to be like these women, I want my story lines to grab the reader and not let go. So while it may look like I’m mindlessly gazing at the screen, I’m actually learning characterization and plotting from some spec fiction masters of today.
What does the buckets of popcorn and other junk food goodness I consume have to do with that? Nothing. Oh, I mean…A girl has to keep her strength up, right?
Next time I’ll go into my family’s (okay, mine, actually) favorite Saturday evening entertainment: Sci Fi Channel original movies. Let’s just say the expectations for those shows are a little…lower.
Theme Me Up, Scotty
I’ve stated on my website that I’d like folks to read my work and enjoy it, but not necessarily search for any deeper meaning or theme hidden within the words like some painful “Where’s Waldo?: The Flashbacks to High School English Class Edition.” I just want to write fun stories with interesting characters. (And hopefully someone will pay to read them at some point.)
But the other day, as I was figuring out what to do next while I have my current manuscript out on submission (keep your fingers crossed and sacrifice a few chickens for me, will ya?), I made a list of my work and had one of those Oprah “a-ha” moments. Each title I jotted down naturally made me consider the story and I realized I do, despite all my protesting to the contrary, have a theme running through them. Maybe I didn’t realize it at the time I wrote the bit for my website because there weren’t enough samples to consider. In scientific experiments/data collection, it’s imperative that there are sufficient numbers of test results to compare to each other to allow you to say, “Yes, this hypothesis is true (or not).” And then, of course, the scientist needs to actually be looking for something. Maybe I wasn’t looking for the way my diverse genre choices were connected until then.
So far, I’ve completed four novels. Two are sword and sorcery fantasy, one is a paranormal women’s fiction, and the latest is a science fiction romance. The current WIP is a shapeshifter romance. And no, it seems I cannot write anything without adding a bit of a speculative bend to it. Maybe some day. Anyhoo, they are different in tone and in POV, some are first person some are third, all have female protagonists, though some have male character perspectives in them. But what hit me is that in three of the stories the MC has to learn who she really is (literally, in one case) and deal with how that self realization will affect her. In the other story, the MC is the one who was affected by someone else’s true self and has to suffer the consequences.
Thinking about the overall theme of my stories made me consider WHY I was writing about “finding yourself.”
Like most everyone, I grew up with a plan as to how my life might play out. For a long time, it involved studying animals, working with them and for them in some capacity. Sure, a spouse and kids were tossed into the mix at some point, but the idea of life as Science Gal stayed with me for a long time. That was who I was and who I would be.
Then circumstances, job opportunities and financial obligations changed. Long term positions in my chosen field meant separation from DH or upheaval of my spouse’s more lucrative and promising career. Summer field positions were fine, but we needed the steady income of my getting year-round work. Science Gal needed to step back for a more practical solution. At least temporarily. Right. That’s about when the biological clock chimed and we started our family. So much for returning to the life of field work. And no, DH was not able to stay home because he is Science Guy who needed to be in the field or trotting about to meetings across the planet. So I took local, out-of-my-chosen-field-of-study jobs.
I was lost. This was NOT what I’d seen for myself as a young woman contemplating her future. Not that I regretted the choices I’d made. I knew what I was doing when I chose to marry my husband, when I decided it was time for children. But still, the question of what would happen to *me* now that I wasn’t who I thought I’d be made me very anxious. I liked who I was, for the most part, but this new person ? What was she like? How would she react to situations? And more importantly, did she still like coffee and chocolate?
It took me a while to fit into this new skin. There were times, early on, that I felt frustrated, depressed even, because after all that hard work in school, after traipsing across the country to take exciting positions, I couldn’t use my knowledge and experience. I was now a stay at home mom with two kids. What happened to ME? Well, life happened. And once I realized that I wasn’t lost, that I was merely taking the scenic route to what I was truly meant to be, I relaxed.
And now, I write about women who are on that insane journey of self discovery. It’s exciting to experience those moments through characters, but I’m getting too old for major shake-ups. Let the perpetually younger and sturdier people I create have that fun. Plus, as the writer, I can REALLY mess with their lives. Kill my darlings? Maybe not, but I sure like making things rough for them. Better them than me.
Now Back to Our Regularly Scheduled Program
With the World Series and the presidential campaign FINALLY over, I can go back to mindless, uninterrupted-except-for-normal-commercials television watching. Thank goodness!
Is it just me, or does the baseball season seem to take longer and longer each year? Why do they need to play over 100 games and then go through two rounds of best of five playoffs? And the World Series itself is best of seven! What the hell is that all about? Maybe I’m just too much of a football fan. Regular season of 16 games, and you get to play others in your division once in your house and once in theirs. Period. Playoffs? Lose and you’re out. Period. Let’s move on to THE big game. End of season, except for the Pro Bowl for those who aren’t too banged up.
As for the presidential election, the whole sorting out who’s running and the primary thing shouldn’t start until the year of the election. Seriously. No declaring your candidacy until January 1st of the election year. Not two years before. And then you have 6 months to win your party’s nomination. Period. With the travel options and technology available today, candidates shouldn’t need more than that. And while this plan may cut into running mate vetting time (down to one quick phone call instead of an hour face-to-face interview, maybe?), I think it will also tell us how organized a candidate is, how well they think on their feet.
So, shorten the baseball and campaign seasons. And give us back our mindless entertainment. Oh, wait, I said the campaigning was over, didn’t I?
Love Means Having to Say You’re Sorry
Despite Erich Segal’s famous line, love does mean having to say you’re sorry. Not just for the big things, but for the smaller ones. Without a doubt, a monumental screw up (ie: adultery, financial ruin, arson…you get the idea) requires an apology. But what about the little things? Those seemingly small incidents that can be blown off yet still hurt. I think a festering or a build up of small insults that don’t get resolved are as damaging as a big issue. Perhaps more so. And we’re more apt to apologize to a perfect stranger for bumping into them than to apologize to our loved ones for taking the last slice of pizza or not doing the dishes.
In books, it’s the big things that make an exciting read–adultery, murder, theft. Sure, there are stories about little screw ups, but that’s more “literary” fodder : ) Most of real life (or at least MY real life) is made up of little episodes, both good and bad. Fewer of us have to deal with the aftermath of major mistakes. But we must contend with all those little ones we inflict or receive.
Standing at the bus stop this rainy, chilled morning, I chided my youngest child for not having zipped her backpack. As I zipped it for her, I noticed her homework folder wasn’t inside. She is notorious for just dropping the folder near her pack without actually putting it inside. So I got upset because unless I brought her homework in to her she’d get points off for it being late. Yeah, some of you may think I should have just let her take the hit to learn her lesson about being responsible, but that’s for another post. Instead, I told her I’d bring her the folder today but never again. She was upset that I was upset and promised to be better prepared. The bus arrived and I said I’d be along at school soon.
I trudged back up the hill to the house and searched for the folder. And couldn’t find it. Crap. The car was already warming up so I figured I’d run in and let her know I couldn’t find the darn thing. She and her sister were in the cafeteria with a slew of other kids waiting for the bell to start the day. And there, beside her, was her folder.
“It was bent over in my backpack,” she said.
I felt horrible for having gotten mad. “I should have double checked. I’m sorry.”
Her little face lit up at my apology. She’d been more upset at my reaction than I’d realized. I told her and her sister I loved them, to have a good day, and I’d see them after school.
I have no problem letting my children know I make mistakes. I want them to realize that no one is perfect. That when you screw up, you apologize whether it’s a big thing or a little thing, and try not to repeat the same mistake twice.
Will my getting upset at her scar her for life? I doubt it. But I hope my willingness to admit my mistake and apologize for it will make an impression. Will I screw up again? Probably, but hopefully it’ll be over something different. And I’ll apologize again.
Light Another Candle and Step Back!
Today is my birthday! I got to sleep in, sort of. My youngest served me toast in bed before I was fully awake. Then she delivered a slew of presents she’d been secretly wrapping in hand-decorated dot matrix printer paper (the kind with the holes on the sides and each sheet is attached to the next…yeah, we have a box of the stuff). She gave me one of her favorite stuffed animals and some change. You can’t go wrong with a cash gift, I say. My oldest gave me a cute stuffed bear dressed in Native clothing. Apparently you’re never too old to receive stuffed animals : ) DH left a bouquet of flowers on my car seat yesterday, where it was parked at the school (I subbed for a second grade teacher) along with a note asking for the check book. No, not for a gift, but to get a US Forest Service wood cutting permit. Thanks, dear! Just what I always wanted!
It’s been a great day and can only get better.
Oh, and go on over to my AT3 pal and “twin” Meretta Pater’s blog to wish her a Happy Birthday too.
Seriously?
I’ve read a couple things in the past week that made me laugh out loud and shake my head simultaneously. Talk about whiplash!
Item #1: Do You Expect Me to Buy This?
While perusing a clothing/accessory/general items catalog sent from a certain organization where a girl may scout out interests in a number of activities, I came across a page where uniform items were being displayed. In a bright yellow box near the description it read that as of October, along with the uniform vest or sash, a girl is required (my emphasis) to wear a white shirt and khaki pants (or skirt, I think) when representing the organization in an official capacity. OK, that’s fine. On the very next page, the clothing offered was more casual tee-shirts and such. One of the shirts for sale proudly displayed this message: Defy Conformity. Unless they say so, I guess.
Item #2: Only in Alaska
One of our U.S. senators is being investigated for allegedly accepting gifts of great monetary value without reporting them. The big ticket is work/renovations on the senator’s house that comes to major bucks. But in today’s paper the investigators came up with a few more gifts the senator supposedly received, including a massage chair($2,600), a custom stained glass window($3,200), and a sled dog($1,000). Yes, a sled dog can be worth $1,000 or more, depending on the bloodline. Can you imagine any other state in the union where this could happen? Me neither.
I love this state.
Empty House, Full Mind, Attention Span of a Gnat
School started a couple of weeks ago, so the kids are gone from 8am to 4pm. DH left this morning for a three week research cruise out of San Diego. I’m in my very quiet bedroom/office listening to one of the dogs snoring and listening for the cat who escaped last night and has yet to return. Stupid cat.
With all this quiet, I’m excited about getting some work done. I have a manuscript that needs revising, and will get revised and submitted if *ahem* I can get my crit partners to return the parts I sent to them. I have another that was put on hold and needs finishing, and still more ideas jostling for attention in my wee head.
The hardest thing about having all this quiet, all this “me” time, is actually focusing on the task at hand. Yes, I know. Poor me. All this time during the day, no kids interrupting, and my biggest distraction is my own brain. At least it’s doing *something*.
I’m better than I used to be about managing my time. Often, I even get housework done. Well, perhaps “often” is a bit of an overstatement. But it gets done. Eventually. And my kids never go to school wearing dirty clothes.
So my job, when I’m not called in to substitute at the school, is to keep myself on track. Wish me luck. Look! Something shiny!!! Just kidding : )
Dara Torres: The Epitome of the Olympic Spirit
I wanted to hate Dara Torres from the moment I saw her incredibly toned body and steely abs. What other 41 year old woman looks like that? None that I know. So I tried to console myself with the idea that maybe all she does is eat, sleep and live training. That HAD to be the answer. Nope. She has a two year old daughter. No good mother exclusively eats, sleeps and lives anything if they have a child, and Dara seems like a good mother. Damn. Then maybe she’s so super focused on her swimming that she ignores the other competitors. Nope. You can see her chatting it up and laughing with all the other women swimmers between her events, no matter where they come from or how old they are. Double damn.
But this is the episode that really clenched my fangirl attitude for Dara.
During the preliminaries for the 100 meter freestyle, Dara and the rest of the swimmers were to get on their blocks for their heat. Instead, Dara passed the other swimmers and went to speak to the official. She then returned to her block, talking to the other women as she went, and it was noted by the commentator that lane 8’s swimmer wasn’t out of the locker room. Within a minute, the straggler jogged out and everyone got on their blocks. The heat began and Dara qualified for the finals (or semifinals–I can’t recall and it really doesn’t matter). So what had Dara gone to the official about? The late swimmer, from Switzerland I believe, had torn her suit just before the heat was to begin. While she changed into a new one, Dara let the official and the other swimmers know what was happening, that the young woman was on her way, and that they would be holding the start of the heat until the last swimmer was out there. She told the official they would be waiting. Not asked. Told.
When the heat was over and the interviewer at pool-side caught up to Dara, she asked what had happened. Dara explained, then said, in effect, “We’re competitors in the pool, but outside of it we’re friends.”
That is why you, Dara Torres, embody the Olympic Spirit. Dedication that has you capable of competing–and kicking ass–in your 5th Games. An openness and warmth that makes competitors friends. Good sportsmanship that extends beyond the pool or playing field.
Congratulations on your medals in these Games, Dara. I will never have your abs, but I can strive to achieve your attitude.