Tintin: Not Too Terrifying After All

I've been watching the development of The Adventures of Tintin with a bit of excitement and some trepidation. Going in to the movie, I knew it would be difficult to separate my feelings for the source material from the experience of watching the film - always a danger when going in to any adaptation. Judging the film on its own merits was a bit difficult, but, all in all, The Adventures of Tintin made for a fun moviegoing experience.

Part of the reason that it was so difficult to look at Tintin as a separate experience from the comics is that there are SO MANY different stories brought together. The Adventures of Tintin was meant to be an adaptation of two Tintin stories - The Secret of the Unicorn and Red Rackham's Treasure, but I noticed prominent scenes and characters from at least FIVE different stories mashed together. It's probably not something that would bother most people; however, I'm not sure that the selected scenes worked together well.

It makes sense that, when introducing a new intellectual property to the masses, you'd want to select more recognizable elements to attract the largest audience possible. All the different scenes selected for Tintin do work well...ish. I noticed a few lapses in logic during certain transitions between set pieces - getting the characters from one recognizable locale to the other didn't always make sense. Maybe someone who isn't so familiar with the Tintin comics wouldn't be bothered so much by it.

There's a big tonal change from the comics to the movie as well. The comics emphasize comedy a bit more, while the movie's more about the action. Unfortunately, this means the comic elements of the movie (ie. the Thomson/Thompson pairing) feel out of place - but not cripplingly so.

As for the action... well, it's AWESOME. Fight scenes that last only a panel or two in the comics are extended for several minutes, and, while it is a bit over the top, it's a LOT of fun to watch. Especially notable are Tintin's escape from an enemy boat and a flashback involving Captain Haddock's ancestor and the pirate, Red Rackham. The animation allows for some amazing stunt choreography that wouldn't really work in any other medium.

Speaking of the animation, I'll admit to being a bit worried about the Zemeckis-style motion capture, but it actually works really well. Tintin himself and the villain look GREAT, and the other characters, whose exaggerated features come straight from the original art, aren't off-putting at all as I first thought they would be. Seeing these character in motion is actually pretty delightful - you can see the essence of the actor behind the character (Daniel Craig and Andy Serkis do especially well), but the visual is all animation, and pretty well-rendered animation at that.

The 3-D still sucks, though, and adds just about nothing to the experience.

Surprisingly, I think my favorite part of the movie is the opening title sequence - which sounds like a diss, I know, but isn't meant to be. I never really realized it before, but I'm a bit of a sucker for a well-executed title sequence, and Tintin has one of the best I've ever seen. I'd almost say the movie's worth the price of admission just for the opening credits.

The rest of the film, though, is pretty great, despite some weaknesses in the writing. The motion capture is good, the acting is fine, and the action is top-notch. The Adventures of Tintin probably won't win any awards, but it's definitely worth a watch if you're into some good action.

Braddy Reads Leadership and Self-Deception

I'm not really much for business/self-help books, but I read this one after a friend recommended it... mainly to the absurd number of leadership positions I had come down with (I got better).

The Arbinger Institute's Leadership and Self-Deception discusses how people tend to let their inflated egos get in the way of accurately assessing and responding to the needs of others. Mainly, the Arbinger Institute seems concerned with how this self-deception (which they describe as being "in the box") inhibits productivity at work; however, they DO detail why this attitude can be damaging to home life.

Basically, being "in the box" means adopting an attitude that reduces other people to objects or obstacles. Someone in the box can't acknowledge the needs of others because he or she is too caught up in their own selfish needs while actually condemning others for being selfish themselves. It's an important point, and most people (myself included) could benefit from looking into their self-deception.

However, the book seems to be more concerned with advertising the Arbinger Institute's program. The business slant is evident right up to the use of near-meaningless slogans like being "in the box." Reading the book felt a bit like living inside a Dilbert strip. You could probably get a bit more of the personal touch reading something mean for an individual, like the Alcoholics Anonymous handbook.

Not that I've actually had any reason to read Alcoholics Anonymous... ahem...

The Half-Moon Thong

Can't BELIEVE I'm making another post on sartorial decency...

Let me start by saying this: I LIKE women. I really do. I also like LOOKING at women. It makes me happy. Of course, since I'm a practicing Christian, I feel GUILTY about looking at women, but I still LIKE it.

That said... Ladies, please hitch up your pants.

I'm not really a "sagging" detractor. I don't buy into some of the more pervasive arguments from naysayers about sagging, but I also don't get why people feel the need to show off their particular brand of underoos. If you want to sag with your boxers, I guess you can go ahead. Thug life forever or whatnot.

However, I've seen how some women with their low-rise jeans deliberately make sure their skimpy thongs are visible above the waistline, and that's a practice I just can't get behind... partially because I'd have to look at their half-moon thong hanging out the back.


There's a REASON men who sag so much you can see their Great Posterior Crevice are often ridiculed - it's usually a sign that they're either too distracted to pay attention or too slovenly to think it matters. Same holds true with women. Personally, when I see a woman's thong riding up in the back, I tend to think of some of the women I've seen come through the mental health system - and those are usually people who are so stoned out of their minds that they can't remember how to work a belt.

That's not exactly the "sexy vibe" people are trying to give off, I think.

Again, maybe I'm overstepping my bounds here in demanding all women conform to MY definition of modest attire (and on the internet, too, where everyone has to do what I say). It's a sight that's bugged me a bit too much recently, though, so there you go. End verbal vomit.

Just remember: what would Richard Blackwell do?

Locker Love Affair

Isn't that the way it goes?

I had the idea for the girl's face in the foreground as a starting point, but it's the other two character designs I wound up liking best.

For a Good Time, Email This Chick

And by "good time," I mean "almost definitely a scam."

I have two email accounts, as most red-blooded Americans do. Anyone with only one email account is likely a communist or some other subversive. Unfortunately, one of my accounts appears to have been hacked... or something.

I checked my Hotmail address today (sileny_spisovatel@homtail.com - it's Czech, shut up) and found about 20 "delivery failure notifications" in my email. Trouble is, I didn't send that many messages (heck, I don't think I have that many CONTACTS). So I go to my sent box, and I find a bunch of messages with the above picture and the following text:

Ciao! Dovrebbe essere inusuali a ricevere che messaggio sento. Consenti mi presento;). Mi chiamo Tatyiana, e sono da Russia... La mia età è 25 anni.. Io sono tipo attraente, onesto, dignitosa, con un senso dell'umorismo..:)

Actually, I don't think anyone who reads this speaks Italian, so I won't post the whole thing... at least, not before running it through Google Translate:

Hello! It should be unusual feel to receive that message. Allow me introduce myself:). My name Tatyiana, and are from Russia ... My age is 25 years .. I'm like attractive, honest, dignified, with a sense of humor ..:) And I hope this e-mail is not difficult to you.

I am real woman who has a goal I want to make sure this is not this kind of questionable email that people send all around the world .. The report inet and something new for me and I've never done that before I look for a friend, my companion, and my future husband all my life The only thing I want is to find a person who will love and take me as I have .. I went to the shop and I opened kafe-page Web site Nirvam strange way and I managed to send an e-mail is written with the assistance of the employee who works here. I also send my beautiful pictures to you so you might know me.

I believe that you are interessatti meet new people and the will I answer to me, please contact me my email [What followed was NOT an email, but a dubious-looking web URL].

I hope for your quick news, Face... Your new amigo Tatyana

I gotta hand it to whoever has been sending out these emails - they really did a good job of creating a completely believeable Italian-speaking Russian woman who randomly sends mass emails out from a Czech email address. I especially appreciate the way they coopted English speaking colloquialisms to create the image of a, "like attractive, honest, dignified" woman.

Also (and this is no lie): "Face" might be my new favorite farewell EVER.

Joking aside, I'm deleting that email account today. Anybody got an extra hammer and sickle?

Things I'll Love Forever: White Christmas

I don't watch a whole lot of Christmas movies during the month of December. Most of them suck eggnog... not that I'd ever single out a possibly-beloved Christmas classic to hate on it *cough*. I did get the chance last night to sit down with White Christmas, one of my all-time FAVORITE Christmas movies when I was a bit younger. After watching it again for the first time in several years, I noticed a few imperfections (what in the name of Krampus are they WEARING?), but it's still an excellent film.

• The concluding scene, when the soldiers present at the inn and sing "The Old Man," never fails to get me a little teary-eyed.


• When I grow up, I want to be Bing Crosby's voice. Any time anyone else starts singing with him, I start yelling at the television until Bing's just singing solo again.


• I kinda miss movies that are completely unashamed to have big dance numbers. Most movies set up some kind of gimmick to frame dance sequences and remove them from what's "really" happening in the film (I'm looking at you, Chicago). Other movies present dance numbers ironically or with a great big wink to the audience (Enchanted and The Muppets both do this). While that's all well and good, it gives me the impression that film makers are EMBARASSED to film dancers. However, Vera-Ellen, Danny Kaye, and John Brascia prove that a little dancing is nothing to be ashamed of, and a LOT can be pretty darn cool.


• Speaking of dancing, the number "Choreography" nearly makes the whole movie worthwhile for me. It's a brilliant meta-commentary on the state of dance in musical theater, and it STILL feels timely and fitting over fifty years later.


• Not all the musical numbers are winners, but, surprisingly, the military numbers rank among my favorites ("The Old Man," "What Can You Do with A General," and "Gee, I Wish I Was Back In The Army"). No one, and I mean NO ONE, does martial music like Irving Berlin.


• While the plot of White Christmas has very little to do with Christmas (actually, the movie's based on an earlier film with almost the exact same story), the MESSAGE of Christmas still comes through. Christmas is a time to focus on love, compassion, and good will towards men. White Christmas has those elements in SPADES.

The show's certainly dated, and some of the writing's a bit wobbly, but White Christmas is a great film, and I'll love it forever.

Some Old Sketches and a Christmas Charcoal

Merry Christmas!

So it's been a LONG time since I last posted any of my drawings... mostly cuz I haven't done many. Whoopsie.

Here are a couple I just DEEMED to finish. I started BOTH of them back in September, but I didn't ink them until today. Enjoy.


I like the idea of cynical motivational posters. Also, I like libraries. A series of depressing pictures endorsing literacy should satisfy both of those interests.

Back when I was taking my art class, my instructor looked at a couple of my sketches and recommended that I shade in the ground with charcoal. I really liked the idea, and I plan to use it in the future (this picture just used pencil).


Hey, it's these guys!

I don't know if I actually have a concrete story or anything planned for the Dead Poets' Sorority. I just think it's a fun band name.

My main complaint about the above picture is Samantha (that's the girl in the center). I didn't plan her position out very well, and I had kinda gotten tired of inking when it came time to do her wardrobe. Also, I think I made the other two characters look related. That wasn't my intent.

Stippling and crosshatching take a LOT OF TIME - and it's difficult to make a picture look nice with those techniques. At least, it is for me. I've actually ruined a couple of pictures I've worked on in the past. Still, I think this one turned out all right.

My favorite part of the picture above? The Hendrix-looking guy in the poster.

Dream: Pirate Roles

My alarm didn't go off this morning. I woke up about ten minutes before I had to be in to work. Luckily, I only live about ten minutes away FROM work, so I still made it on time. Unluckily, that means certain daily rituals (like my morning ablutions) had to be omitted. I had a lock of hair looping out from the side of my head like a coffee mug handle that, thankfully, seems to have settled down now.

The cool thing about sleeping late, though, is that I got to experience a pretty wicked awesome dream for a bit longer.

So I was an actor, see, in a play/movie about pirates. The cool thing is that the director liked me enough to cast me as two different roles - and BOY, were they different.

The first character I played was a stoic seaman, the kind that never smiles while swinging deftly from the riggings. The director of the play gave me a photograph of how he wanted me to portray the character - a sailor in a white cap, unsmiling as he tied a hefty rope around his waist.

"Why is this man tying himself up?" the director asked.

"To keep from falling off the ship," I said.

"No," the director said, laughing at my naivete. "He's PLANNING to fall."

My mind? Totally blown right at that moment.

Sadly, I didn't get much time to explore the role of the second pirate - but I think this guy would have been even MORE fun. He walked around with a bit of a drunken swagger - similar to, but not so effete as Jack Sparrow - and he wore a pretty rad pair of red sunglasses. This character's scenes took place in an underground sewer, complete with blasts of steam and red lighting.

I remember one line of his:

"Down here, men, you gotta LIVE your sex!"

I have no idea what that means, but I'm pretty sure this guy was going to be awesome.

Wish I Said It First #15

#15

"By the same token, sexy is not exploitative, and exploitation is dishonest. Reverse that chain and you can see that, whoever you are writing, if you are honest about them, fair to them, and allow them their moments of brilliance, you can create that sexiness without it becoming pandering. Sexy is not a visual trait - that's titillation. Cheesecake, beefcake, those are entirely visual matters. What makes someone sexy - what makes anyone sexy, in my opinion - is less how they look than how they do. Competence is sexy. Capability is sexy. Confidence is sexy. Smart is sexy. A character who clearly embodies these traits in some capacity or another is a character who is going to be attractive."

-Greg Rucka, in an interview with Comic Vine

Since I've been bugged so much by the portrayal of women in comics, reading this quote from one of superhero comicdom's top writers really helped.

A Modesty Proposal, or, Braddy's Being Sexist Again

I saw this picture make the rounds on Facebook the other day:


I get that it's a joke... but this poster REALLY ticked me off all the same.

I'll get this out of the way right now - I'm a male, the latest in a long line of oppressive white male so-and-sos, so I'm liable to get a few things wrong. I may even come across as (dare I say it?) SEXIST. Still, if ever there was a forum for sharing one's opinion, no matter how ill-informed, the internet is it.

Please take all the time you want to explain how wrong I am in the comments section below.

I take issue with the poster above, first of all, because it implies that the primary reason for women's modesty is to prevent male misbehavior. I hope we can all agree on how stupid that is - an adult male is fully capable of making his own responsible decisions, regardless of how the people around him dress. If he's not capable of that, he's a disgrace to his sex. It's POSSIBLE (and I know of no other way to emphasize the word "possible" in text than I have just now) that a woman subconsciously invites mistreatment by the way she dresses, but that doesn't make the man's behavior any less reprehensible or reduce his culpability in any way. Period.

I also resent the implication that modesty implies sexlessness... although that does seem to be the case in the picture above. I've seen PLENTY of apparel that is attractive, colorful, and modest, while it still emphasizes a woman's... um... femininity and... sexuality. Can I just say "curves"? Or is that weird?

Finally, I get the impression that this picture sets up a false dichotomy - clothing either expresses sexuality or represses it. To which I say, "Thpbpthpbh!" It's entirely possible that a woman who chooses to dress modestly has something in mind OTHER than hiding her curves...

...feels weird to say that...

There are a lot of things a person can express with their clothing - respect, professionalism, mourning, celebration, relaxation - that have nothing to do with sex. A person's sexuality is ONE contributing factor to their attire, but it's hardly the ONLY one.

Maybe I'm out of line here. I am, after all, a member of the reigning patriarchal religious order which endorses a standard of modesty among its members. As a Latter-day Saint, I frequently participate in the sacramental ordinance, which means I stand up and walk around the chapel to give the bread and water to the congregation. Now, I like to try to keep my thoughts clean ESPECIALLY when involved in a religious ritual, and when a woman is wearing a low-cut dress, and I'm standing over them... let's just say I wish I had Batman around to keep my mind on task.

Is there ANY subject I can't link to Batman somehow?

So, yeah, I appreciate modesty, even though I recognize that women who choose to dress modestly likely (hopefully) do so without feeling obligated to out of deference to my feelings. Even if I've overstepped some gender-role bounds, I hope y'all respect my opinion while I respect your right not to listen to a ^#$%in' word I say.

Merry Christrufflemas!

Christmastime is a great time of year: parties, presents, family, good music... well, some good music, at any rate. And, of course, there's a lot of great food.

And, by food, I mean candy.

And, by candy, I mean THESE GUYS:


I tend not to buy Lindor Truffles except at Christmas time - they're a bit on the pricey side. I guess the Lindt company starts to feel a bit more generous this time of year, because the truffles are often on sale. I actually have a little back of the truffles right by my desk, and... man, does that ever make me happy.

I like to take one of the truffles and pop it whole in my mouth. I don't chew it up right away, though - I let the outer shell melt away until the softer center is exposed. I love the sensation of the soft chocolate dissolving on my tongue - its smooth, creamy, and almost has its own temperature. Simply delightful.

So, of course, my phone HAS to ring when I'm eating my candy...

Seriously, this world's full of Scrooges.

Things I'll Love Forever: Jim Henson's Muppets

I saw The Muppets a couple of weeks ago and have been recommending it pretty frequently to friends and coworkers. Surprisingly (at least I was surprised), a lot of my friends say that they don't like/never "got" the Muppets. I guess I see where they're coming from: I never quite understood what the Muppets were really about until I started watching The Muppet Show in earnest as an adult. Now I can't seem to get enough of them.

• A lot of my fascination with the Muppets has to do with the mad genius that is Jim Henson. I watched a (lengthy) documentary from 1968 called Muppets on Puppets that illustrated just how talented Henson was. The man appears - well, to me, at least - to be a little shy and unsure of himself in front of the camera. However, put a puppet in his hands, and he's suddenly eloquent, witty, and charismatic. Jim Henson is quickly becoming one of the artists I admire most. And, yes, I do call his puppeteering "art."
• I have a bit of comedic experience, so I know that it's difficult to do comedy without being raunchy. The Muppets, though, seem to manage it just fine, with a heavy reliance on puns and slapstick that, admittedly, isn't for everyone. If you ARE into that kind of thing, though, then the Muppets tend to get away with groaners that anyone else would be ashamed of. The fuzzy puppets make them work.
• Back episodes of The Muppet Show introduced me to a lot of music that I'd not listened to before. Thanks to the Muppets, I have a brand new respect for classic rock and pop artists like Elton John, Leo Sayer, and Harry Belafonte. Also, just about any time you get Rowlf on the piano, I'm stuck to the TV screen. I LOVE that dog!
• I've mentioned how much I love The Muppet Christmas Carol before, but it bears repeating. Gonzo makes a surprisingly competent Charles Dickens, and... heck, all of the Muppet performers lend a surprising amount of sincerity and self-awareness to one of my favorite stories of all time. Also, I have fond memories of arguing with my brothers over whether or not Beaker flips Michael Caine off (answer: I'ma say he does).
• I don't know if its the music, the dancing, the guest stars, or what, but the Muppets seem to me to be one of the greatest "wholesome" groups around. I HATE the word "wholesome," by the way. It makes me think of a box of Fiber One. The thing is, though, that I actually feel good about watching the Muppets - the laughter's genuine, the songs are moving, and... heck, I've actually gotten to care about pieces of fabric wrapped around a guy's hand. That's gotta count for something.

Chalk it up to childish nostalgia if you must, but the Muppets have inspired me, and I'll love them forever.

Except for this guy:

Seriously? He sucks.

Braddy's Big Bollywood... umm... Breakthrough. Yeah, That Alliterates.

I borrowed a movie from a friend last night - Ghajini, a Bollywood film inspired by the Christopher Nolan movie Memento, and supposedly my friend's all-time favorite movie. I'd never seen a Bollywood movie before, and I've always been fascinated by the plot of Memnto, which features a character suffering from anterograde amnesia (an inability to retain new memories following a tramautic event). So I decided to give Ghajini a try. Hooray for new experiences, right?

Just a warning about new experiences - some of them are, like, really extremely crazy.

Ghajini is about the most disjointed movie-watching experience I've ever had - ever. See, I thought I knew kind of what to expect from the movie going in. After all, here's the movie poster:

Hardcore, no?

Now let's take a look at the description on the back of the movie box:

Imagine being one of the most successful businessmen in the country. Sanjay Singhania is a rich businessman who owns a cellular phone company. Kalpana is a model who brags to her friends and peers that she is the love interest of Sanjay, though in reality she doesn't even know the man.

When Sanjay comes to know about this anonymous admirer of his, he decides to dispel her delusions. But on his way he sees a beautiful woman helping the handicapped kids cross the road. Instantly, Sanjay falls for her. Later, he comes to know that she is Kalpana, the same model who boasted of being his girlfriend.

Sanjay gets introduced to Kalpana but doesn't disclose his real identity. Love blossoms between the two.

...What?

As it turns out, there are two plot threads in the movie. One follows Sanjay Singhania, a man with no long-term memory who tattoos his body with clues which should lead him to identify his girlfriend's murderer. The other plot, which unfolds all in flashbacks, follows Sanjay Singhania who falls in love with a woman through a CRAZY mixup.

In the first twenty minutes of the film, Sanjay stabs a man to death. Then, not twenty minutes later, we get this:


and this:


That last picture is pretty darn hilarious. This *NSYNC wannabe is actually the SAME PERSON as the guy on the movie poster. By the end of the film, he completely transforms into a rage-driven, animalistic revenge machine that punches people to death. In the climax, he hits someone so hard that he breaks the other guys neck and his head does a complete 180. The dude is LITERALLY lying on his belly and staring up at the sky in awe AT THE SAME TIME.

I'm not the only one noticing a disconnect, right? It's like I stuck in the DVD to Silence of the Lambs, and then, about halfway through, the movie switches over to a musical adaptation of Hitch. The tone switches with breakneck speed from psychological thriller to romantic comedy to melodrama to straight-up horror DOZENS of times over the course of three hours.

Now, it probably sounds like I didn't care for Ghajini, while I actually... probably didn't care for it much. There was a lot of great stuff - some of the cinematography was FANTASTIC, the music was catchy, and the rom-com bits WERE pretty funny. I have to wonder how much of the weird disconnect is due simply to cultural differences between Hindi and Hollywood films.

Unfortunately, it may be too late for Ghajini. I'm glad I watched it, but I doubt the movie will ever be a thing I love forever.

But boy HOWDY, did I have fun watching it!

Bedtime Stories for a Busy Week

Geez... I don't know about anyone else, but I'm POOPED.

Month-end is always a busy time at work, and, since we've been short-staffed for several months, I've been more stressed out than usual. All I want is to curl up in bed after drinking a tall glass of milk with cookies and have someone read me bedtime stories while I go to sleep. Is that too much for a grown man to ask?

Apparently not - I've seen several reports this week (but mainly this one) about a series of bedtime stories that air on CBeebies, a children's network in the UK. The program (or programme, if you will) garnered a bit of attention for regularly featuring the stars of Doctor Who - a show of which I'm a HUGE fan. I sat down last night and gave some of these a listen, and... well, they're darn cute. It reminds me of the good old days when I could sit on the carpet and watch Reading Rainbow.

I was the luckiest teenager ever.


David Tennant, who played the Doctor for a good three-four years recently (and also played Barty Crouch in one Harry Potter movie or another) reads a story called "Miki" which, while it's not my favorite story, provides ample opportunity for the delightfully hammy Tennant to pull out some great voices.


Freema Agyeman also delivers a pretty fun tale called "That Rabbit Belongs to Emily Brown". Her voices aren't quite as funny as Tennant's, but the sincerity of her indignation when the naughty queen tries to take Emily Brown's rabbit from her is just... well, it's adorable.


Far and away, though, my favorite story was "Crocodiles Need Kisses, Too." The story's something of a riff on "Are You My Mother," but with an adorable little crocodile that scares all the other animals. A good story needs a good storyteller, and Alex Kingston does a fantastic job, imitating animal voices with great skill all while maintaining a suitably hushed, peaceful tone that could easily lull a body to suh-suh-suh-*yawn*-sleep.

Excuse me, I'm getting tired now. Going to sleep - see y'all Monday.

The Great Media Famine of 2011

The roomie and I decided to go the entire month of November without indulging in any frivolous media - no movies, video games, or music for the whole month (with a few well-deserved exceptions). We had several reasons for doing this. He wanted to cleanse his palate, as it were, of some of the more distasteful media influences he had let into his life. I wanted to keep distractions from my writing project to a minimum. Both of us wanted to discover just how much free time we would have to dedicate to other endeavors if we kept pointless distractions to a minimum.

Also, we both got REALLY FRICKIN' BORED!

Things started pretty well, actually - we'd come home from work or school or whatever, and we'd do a bunch of reading, clean the apartment, go for a walk, write a couple thousand words... whatever, you know. Then, we'd look around, smile at everything we'd accomplished, and say, "Boy, we sure feel swell. What an achievement.

"...now what?"

See, we managed to spend our time pretty well, up until about 9:00 at night. At that point, we both kinda realized that we'd run out of things to do. Normally, this wouldn't be a problem - we'd just pop in a movie, break out the video games, or do the funny video rounds on YouTube. However, for a whole month, we decided to forgo those activities completely. As a result, we completely wasted our time on SLIGHTLY DIFFERENT frivolous activities. For example, we read the entirety of The Complete Calvin and Hobbes in about a week, because there was NOTHING ELSE TO DO.

In the end, we wound up missing relaxing movie time. There's a difference between unwinding at the end of a long day of hard work with a good movie and a day completely wasted in front of the boob tube. We gave up the latter, but, in so doing, we weren't ever able to indulge in the former, and that just got us frustrated.

So much so, in fact, that we started making little exceptions to our rules that allowed for some frivolous media to slip in to our lives, like "Movies are okay in a social setting" and "We can watch videos if someone sends them to us ohttp://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gifn Facebook." That all probably sounds a little silly, but when you realize that WE were INVENTING RULES to CIRCUMVENT OTHER RULES that WE IMPOSED UPON OURSELVES... it stays pretty silly.

Also - and this has absolutely nothing to do with how starved for entertainment we got - we both decided that Patrick Stewart teaching the Sesame Street crowd about the letter "B" is the funniest darned thing ever.

You know what else starts with "B"? "Beautiful."

Well, it's December now. Going a month without movies didn't really kill me. Hopefully, I've learned to be less dependent on external media stimulation. Hopefully, I'll be more discerning in the things I choose to watch or listen to.

More likely, I'll go home from work tonight and play video games until my brains fall out my nose.

What I Learned From NaNoWriMo

You know what that is? That's a certificate. It's a certificate I got for winning. Which is a thing I do, you know. Winning, that is. I do winning. Often. In fact, I do winning so much, I'm starting to get pretty good at it.

In short: BAM! I did it! 50,312 by the time I finished.

I loved NaNoWriMo so much last year because I learned so much from doing it. This year's project was pretty educational, too, although it wound up being something of a remedial course (for those who didn't save their notes, you can review them here). Still, I got a few new bits of wisdom from writing Alice and Wendy.

1 - Great Characters Write Themselves

I caught this happening a couple of times last year, but, since most of what I wrote last year was dictated by a meticulously crafted outline (re: something I wrote in pencil on October 31 while watching reruns of The Office), I didn't allow my characters the freedom they needed to react how they wanted to. Ironically, I feel like writing without an outline allowed my characters to behave more naturally than they would have otherwise.

Of course, I have to stress that it's not like this plot magically fell into place as I channeled some kind of supernatural energy into my laptop monitor. The plot is going to require a lot of ironing out. Which brings me to...

2 - A Good Writer Has a Plan

As fun as it was to just write without any idea of where my novel would go in the end, I'm pretty sure the novel's weaker for my lack of preparation. The exact timeline of events I've written is pretty unclear - I'm not sure what happens in flashback and what happens in the "current day." Heck, most of the time, I didn't even keep straight which day it was in the story. If the story were laid out in chronological order, every freaking day of the week would be Friday.

When I go back to revise, I'll make sure to have a freakin' calendar sitting on my desk.

3 - Miracles Will Happen As We Speak

Yeah, I noticed this happen a lot last year - connections I never could have made myself popped up in the strangest places. These connections will take a lot of cultivation to turn into anything meaningful, but they're the things that'll make the novel worth reading when it's all done.

This year, though, the surprising thing is that I came up with an ending to the novel literally out of nowhere. If you had asked me on Monday if I thought I'd have come up with a satisfying conclusion by Wednesday, I'd have probably slapped you (but I was in a bad mood on Monday).

I was halfway into Tuesday's writing, when I suddenly realized how the novel would have to end. There's pretty much NO OTHER WAY I could have ended this thing than the ending I chose. It's a sloppy ending right now, tying up loose ends more arbitrarily than the romantic leads pairing off in a Stephenie Meyer novel. That said, now when I go back to revise, I'll know what conclusion to work towards.

4 - Writing is the Only Way to Start Writing

Now that I've got 50,000 words of plot, I feel like I can finally start working on Alice and Wendy. It's like everything I've done up to this point was just preparation - I haven't really written a novel, but a 130-page working outline. And most of it is garbage.

Still, if I hadn't done all this writing all month long, I don't think I'd be able to come up with anything NEARLY as cool as the novel I'm envisioning in my head right now. Again, it'll probably be a lot of work to get this book to the point where I'm willing to show it to other people - probably even more work than last year's novel. But it'll be SO worth it if the final product will be as cohesive as I now think I can make it.

5 - Writing Sucks

The main reason I was behind so much this month is that, when I got home from work, I decided I wanted to do something OTHER than more work. There were several days when I sat down to write, and every word I pecked out on the keyboard felt like I was straining a muscle. I skipped several days altogether simply because I didn't feel like writing at all.

It may sound like I'm ending on a bit of a downer, but the truth is that I'm sure I needed to learn this particular lesson. I ended last year with a rush of euphoria, realizing that I really enjoy the process of writing. That's still true; however, there's not a CHANCE that I'll feel that way all the time. I have to accept - as I know expect most writers do - that the cool stuff in writing comes AFTER hours and hours of painful effort, and not always during.

Anyway, the goal this year is to use NaNoWriMo as a springboard. Last year, I took December off from dedicated noveling (it can be a word if I wish hard enough), and I never really picked it up again. This year, I'm not doing that, and I'll be pounding out another 1,000 words or so tomorrow.

The trouble is going to be in deciding what I want to do next: do I revise this year's novel, get back to work on last year's, or start a completely new project? Decisions, decisions.

Thanksgiving Double Feature - The Muppets and Hugo

The roommate and I have suffered through a self-inflicted media "fast" this month. The idea was we would not indulge in any frivolous electronic stimulation for the entire month - primarily, this has meant no video games, movies, TV, or music (well, the occasional bit of classical WAS permitted). However, we allowed ourselves a bit of a loophole - any SOCIAL events centered around movies, music, etc., would be permissible.

And, wouldn't you know it, we had a WHOLE BUNCH of movie parties this past weekend.

Now, I tend to be a little bit... "discerning" in my movie selection (a better word might be "snobbish"). I didn't pick the movies that I saw lightly - if I was going to break my media fast, I was gonna make DARN sure I enjoyed it. And, boy, did I!



Thanksgiving Day I caught the new Muppet movie. I'm a long-time fan of The Muppet Show, after catching an episode guest starring Julie Andrews and a mysterious cow while on a trip to Disneyland back in eighth grade. Before that, all I knew about the Muppets came from A Muppet Christmas Carol (one of my all-time favorite Christmas movies) and Muppet Treasure Island(which was... um... Tim Curry was in it!).

I didn't really have high expectations for The Muppets, so I don't know what I wanted to see when the lights went down in the theater. Once the movie started rolling, though, I knew that what I wanted was right there on the screen in front of me. Bright colors! Smiling faces! Sincere song and dance numbers with only a HINT of irony!

Oh, and Amy Adams... Man, I like that girl.

The "plot" of the movie, as it were, really only served to bring the cast of characters back together for another great installment of The Muppet Show. From there on out, the movie played like a pretty typical Muppet movie - silly jokes, great character moments, and, of course, obligatory celebrity cameos.

(A note about the cameos: there weren't a whole lot of A-list celebrities in the movie. Maybe one or two. However, if you KNOW who the celebrities are, then just about all of them are incredibly funny. I about bruised my knee from slapping it so hard - they're that good.)

More than anything else, though, I found myself loving the music. Some classic Muppet songs mingle with new numbers written by Bret McKenzie of Flight of the Conchords. The songs are straight up hilarious - McKenzie's comic background shines through in the music he writes. There's a particular number highly reminiscent of "I'm Not Crying" that about had me falling out of my chair.

It's not a PERFECT movie, but the Muppets never really were about perfection. Their first feature film in over ten years is a perfect "welcome back." Hopefully they'll stick around - at least long enough for The Muppet Show Season 4 to come out on DVD.


And then we have Hugo, a movie I had very strong opinions about, despite the fact I didn't know it existed until about a month ago.

Hugo is based on a book called The Invention of Hugo Cabret, one of my favorite books that I've read in the past several years. The story focuses on a young orphan boy, living within the walls of the Paris train station. He fixes the clocks their for his uncle, who has disappeared, and survives on food stolen from railway vendors. Eventually, Hugo's story dovetails with the history of early cinema. The young boy finds himself drawn to these first silent pictures, which inspire him as much as they entertain him.

The book Hugo Cabret is filled about half full with pictures - finely detailed pencil drawings by author Brian Selznick. The illustrations help the book to present its story wordlessly at points - an appropriate choice for a story about silent movies. Since so much of the book relies on silence, I found myself a bit worried that the story wouldn't survive screen adaptation.

Again, it's not a PERFECT movie - there are a couple of jokes that feel out of place, and the movie feel a bit preachy at points. Also, I'm starting to get a little tired of Sacha Baron Cohen's typical pratfalls. I think he's a brilliant actor, but he's almost always brought in strictly for comic relief. In Hugo, it's kind of disappointing.

But that's not to say it's a bad movie. I loved Hugo - probably more than I loved The Muppets, to be honest. Hugo explores what it means to be an artist and a dreamer. Its morals are subtle, the mood almost dreamlike, and the actors perfectly cast all the way around - even Sacha Baron Cohen.

Hugo does everything right, but I wish at some points it would do MORE of it. It's the first movie I've ever watched in 3D where I've said, "You know, this could actually use MORE 3D effects." Since one of the central themes of the movie is film's ability to capture unreal scenarios and make them magically come to life on screen, additional 3D effects could have been used to recreate a similar effect for modern audiences who are more used to refined projected images.

Still, Hugo is ultimately a celebration of the movie as a medium and its ability to inspire while it entertains. On that level, it's a brilliant success. I only hope the eventual DVD release comes complete with some of the great Georges Méliès films references throughout the story.

Anyway, if you're interested in catching a movie this holiday season, those are MY suggestions. It's a great time of year for quality movies. Shame not to take advantage of it.

Guest Post on Autodidactic Ambitions

If you're tired of reading nothing but my NaNoWriMo updates, you might enjoy reading a guest post I wrote for my friend Torrie's blog. Torrie and I studied English literature together back in college, so I thought it would be appropriate to share some of my thoughts on writing with her blogging audience.

While you're there, it probably wouldn't be a bad idea to check out some of Torrie's other posts. She's a talented writer in her own right, plus she's got some pretty neat photographs up from some photo walks she's taken.

Thanks Torrie for the guest post!

Meanwhile, I plan on returning to more or less "normal" blog writing next week once NaNoWriMo's wrapped up.

NaNoWriMo: November 22 Update

Words Written Last Night: 1,679
Total Words Written: 35,007
Percent of Final Goal: 70%

Notes: I just wrote the most emotionally violent scene I think I’ve ever written. Man, I really wish I had an A.G. Bear right now…

I had planned last year’s NaNo project with a meticulously crafted, detailed, and complete outline of the whole plot. I knew how the book would end right from the beginning, and I wrote towards that ending. I added a few scenes along the way, but, for the most part, I crafted exactly the story I had set out to write from the very beginning. I also wound up running out of material just after Thanksgiving, and I pulled the last couple thousand words out of an uncomfortable part of my anatomy.

This year, without the outline to guide me, the writing’s been a bit more aimless. Ironically, I think I have a stronger story this year than I did last year, and I think that may be partly due to the free reign I gave my characters to write their own story. It’s a pretty MISERABLE story, but it’s a more compelling one. I have no clue how the story will end – I have a few key scenes I’m writing towards but no conclusion. I hope it’ll all end happily, but…

No, seriously, someone needs to hug me, and SOON.

NaNoWriMo: November 20 Update

Words Written Last Night: 1,696
Total Words Written: 31479
Percent of Final Goal: 62%

Notes: New plot twists popped up as I was writing last night - totally surprised me. Apparently, my "Peter" character is... Actually, you may have to read the finished novel to get this particular twist.

I just wrote a fun section involving a Ouija board. Having never really used a Ouija board myself, I looked up a bunch of videos of kids playing with the "game" on YouTube. Most of the videos I saw purported to be people getting possessed by the spirits that communicate through Ouija. Personally, I thought it all looked fake, but in a good, kinda creepy kind of way.

I use the Ouija board to a different effect in the story I've got going. It's probably not the most ORIGINAL usage - basically, a dissociative man's submerged personality communicates through the board - but I had a lot of fun writing it.

I may not come back to Alice and Wendy right away in December, but scenes like the one I just described have pretty much ensured that I will come back at some point.

NaNoWriMo: November 16 Update

Words Written Last Night: 1,673
Total Words Written: 25,951
Percent of Final Goal: 51%

Notes: There have been a couple of pretty difficult challenges to overcome as a result of the somewhat warped chronology my book’s events have gone through. Some things simply don’t make sense now – a lot of the buildup of the first few chapters is now for an event that I think has already transpired. It’ll all come out in revision, but it’ll take a while.

Alice and Wendy is now almost split into two books – one is a dark story of madness and intrigue, and the other is a pretty straightforward story of a delinquent high school student. I find it much easier to write the latter, as the “madness and intrigue” requires a LOT more specialized knowledge than I’ve got (seriously, I’m never gonna write anything based in the medical field AGAIN). However, I think I’ll be most satisfied with the story if I’m able to weave the two disparate components together.

I forgot to mention before, but I’m actually doing a “word count contest” this week with a friend from church. Whoever gets the most words written this week wins. I picked a pretty bad week for this, though, as I’m busy almost every night with other stuff. So far, I’ve met my minimum goal per day. I should be completely caught up by the end of the week (and I may even be able to get a bit ahead).

The Burden of Language: Braddy's Most Hated Words

I obsess over words a bit more than most people (goes hand-in-hand with the whole degree in English thing that I got). Now, the truth is that I really LIKE words - I think they're fun, expressive, and downright interesting. I don't read the dictionary (well, I don't read the dictionary OFTEN, that is), but I love discovering new words and how to use them.

That said, there are a LOT of words that I just can't stand. My reasons for disliking words vary from case to case, but, once I've selected a word to go in my "hate pile," it STAYS there until its had a good hard think about what it's done.

Let's look at some of my most hated words:


bureaucracy - I may just be petty, but I HATE words that I can't spell easily. Spelling should come easily to people who study English, right? Right?

Unfortunately, some words just never got the hint. For the life of me, I can't ever seem to spell "bureaucracy" right the first time (I actually tried three different spellings while compiling this list before finally looking it up). The word's got so many stupid vowels just to make a simple "ah" sound, while the "yoo" sound in the first syllable SHOULD be where all those extra vowels wind up.

If I had MY way, "bureaucracy" would be spelled "beurahcracy." And, um, I guess we'd all be from Georgia.

(As an aside, I have similar problems with the words occasion and silhouette.)


fail - The internet is hell for English majors. When a particularly terrible linguist dies, he is damned to wander the message boards of the great wide web forever, where he will spend his days hacking through the prickly undergrowth of bad grammar and his nights hiding from the ravenous, marauding "LOLs" and "STFUs," which have been known to strip a man's flesh from his bones in SECONDS.

I GET it, though - the internet generation hates words. It's okay. Most people would probably skip straight over this post because there are words with more than one syllable in it. When you post a funny picture of a man with his hand caught in a vending machine, you don't WANT to post a caption that says, "Oh, dear me, look at this silly chap and laugh at the foolish way he has chosen to acquire his tasty carbonated beverage, ho ho ho," while you adjust your monocle and take a sip from your tea cup. It's easier just to type "FAIL" and move on. That's fine.

Here's a fun fact: most of the time, "fail" is NOT a noun. If a person fails at something, their loss is not called a "fail." The correct word is "failure." It's true. We already have a word that means "an act of proving unsuccessful," and unfortunately for you, it DOES have two syllables.

Seriously, if you EVER say, "This is full of fail," I will kill you. I will unchain my rabid "ROFL" and it will destroy you.


emergency - Working for health care, this is a word I've grown to dread. The word "emergency" has a very specific connotation in health care. It means "a life-threatening situation." Emergencies are bad - very, very bad, and I always HATE hearing the word in a phone call.

Only two people ever use this word when they call in to a doctor's office. It doesn't matter HOW they choose to employ the word, my blood pressure always spikes when "emergency" is uttered. The first kind will use the word correctly, as in, "I have an emergency! My husband is on the ledge, threatening to jump." When I get this call, though, the biochemical response I undergo is appropriate - someone's life is in danger, and I get worked up so I can act more quickly.

However, the second type of person who calls will usually say something like, "I ran out of my Ritalin four days ago and forgot to call. I haven't had it in FOREVER, and it's an emergency." Unfortunately, I have to say, your situation ISN'T that severe, you WON'T die without your medications, you SHOULD have called last week, and I WILL NOT interrupt the doctor so you can get your script. Sorry.

(Strangely enough, I had more empathy BEFORE I started working for the industry whose only purpose is ostensibly to help others.)


accompanist - I think everyone has a word like this one - a word that they have to use frequently but can't ever quite say right. I encountered my personal evil word (my arch-lexemenemy, if you will) back in high school, when I was heavily involved in the choir program. I participated in several solo competitions, and every time, of course, I had to find someone to play the piano for me.

"Accompanist" is one of those words that, for some reason, I can't stop saying. Or, rather, once I start saying it, I can't stop. Picture, if you will, a teenaged Mr. Braddy (slightly lankier and, can you believe it, even MORE awkward), approaching the microphone, dressed in his choral tuxedo and a nervous grin, stringy hair parted at the side. He clears his throat and says:

"Hello. My name is Stephen. I will sing 'Vittoria, Mio Corre' by Giacomo Carissimi, and my accompianimanimanimanimanimanist is Kerry Moore."

Pronouncing "Giacomo Carissimi"? No problem. My poor little teenage self, though, couldn't muster the lingual agility to cut the word "accompanist" off.

I've gotten better, but I was an insecure adolescent at the time. That kinda thing SCARS.


moist - Actually, there's nothing wrong with this word. "Moist" even SOUNDS moist - it's the perfect combination of sound and definition. Get over it.

Have Any Extra Hours To Spare?

If you do, GIVE THEM TO ME BECAUSE YOU DO NOT DESERVE THEM!

I'm kidding, but only just a bit. Life is pretty darn busy right now. Work's still got me swamped, what with me being acting manager for probably another week. I have to finish final preparations for Jesters auditions tomorrow. And, of course, there's a little writing project I've picked up.

Basically, I'm saying that if it seems like all I've done the last couple of weeks is read and write... well, that's because that IS all I've done the last couple of weeks.

The real trouble, though, is that I feel like there's a ton more that I WANT to do, but I simply don't have the time.

• I haven't had time to dedicate to drawing for almost a month, and I have all these pretty little charcoal crayons just WAITING for me to use them.
• Speaking of art, I also have a watercolor set I've been really excited to experiment with. Trouble is, I have absolutely NO concept of watercolor technique, so that's going to be a pretty in-depth project, too.
• My church group is organizing a service auction to raise money for a sick family in Russia, and I've volunteered to put up a picture for bid... that I haven't yet completed.
• All the writing I've been doing for NaNoWriMo has got me wanting to go back and revise LAST year's project, which I haven't touched in MONTHS.
• I've got yet ANOTHER storytelling project I want to start working on NOW (a comic, perhaps?).
• I'm pretty sure that I have friends with whom I can hang out, but I may have misplaced them, as I feel like I haven't really seen them in a couple of months.
• Umm... isn't it, like, Christmas time soon or something? So, um, maybe I should do some shopping or something like that?

Well, I've gotta focus on what's right in front of me for now - which would be work, Jesters, and NaNo - and then I'll get to the other stuff later.

In the meantime, Happy Thanksgiving. If you need me, I'll be at my desk, writing. Try your best NOT to need me, okay?

Power Panels 5

I didn't grow up reading superhero comics; I learned my love of the medium from the Sunday funnies. I grew up reading The Far Side, Bloom County, Peanuts, and, of course, Calvin and Hobbes. I often read within these cartoons the characters complaining about the shrinking space in the newspaper comics page. In fact, Bill Watterson's rebellions against the restraints put on the comics format are part of the reason I admire the man so much. Still, growing up in that age where newspaper comics had already been diminished so much, I don't think I realized what I was missing.

Then, a couple of months ago, I discovered Winsor McCay's Little Nemo in Slumberland.


I'd actually heard of the character as a kid - there was a video game made to correspond with an animated flick I don't think I ever saw, so I knew that something LIKE this existed. Eventually, I learned that Little Nemo was a comic strip from the early twentieth century. Beyond that, though, I never thought to look in to the character much.

I've since read several cartoonists who cite Winsor McCay's work as an inspiration. Eventually, I decided to check a book of the comics out from the library. I feel confident in saying that there's nothing else quite like Winsor McCay that sees print today.

McCay was given a lot of space to tell a brief story, and he USED that space incredibly effectively. He painted larger-than-life pictures of strange landscapes and peculiar creatures, the likes of which are only encountered in dreams. The lettering is less than perfect, sometimes bordering on the illegible, but, in the end, I never really cared what any of the characters were saying. I only wanted to see what dreams Little Nemo had, and I was seldom disappointed.


I've read similar attempts at using broadsheet-sized pages in contemporary comic storytelling (like in DC Comics' recent attempt - which WAS actually pretty good), but none of them come close to using that much space quite as masterfully as Winsor McCay did. Little Nemo is at its most awe-inspiring when its main characters are exploring peculiar dreamscapes. As you can see in the comic above, the panels in the comic aren't simply laid out from left to right, but they fold and warp around the central fantastical image, creating a kind of warped, surreal world.

It makes me wonder what we miss out on in today's comic environment with only tiny, six-panel Sunday strips to look forward to each week.

NaNoWriMo: November 13 Update

Words Written Last Night: 1,761
Total Words Written: 20,578
Percent of Final Goal: 41%

Notes: Look at me! I’m only about a day behind schedule now. Go weekends!

I’ve said it before, but the process of discovery during NaNoWriMo is far and away the best part. I’ve been exploring my main character’s school life, and, as a result, I’ve uncovered a lot of interesting little plot threads. There’s a young man at Wendy’s school who obviously has a thing for her, although he doesn’t always choose to express himself in the best way.

Now, the coolest thing to happen this weekend came from a single word. My main character has a lot of resentment towards her father, who may or may not be a complete monster. I haven’t quite decided. Anyway, the important bit is that she PERCEIVES him to be, if not evil, at least out of touch. Her poor relationship with her father has started to affect Wendy’s school life – hence, her now frequent visits with the principal. In one of the principle’s lectures, I revealed that he doesn’t talk much with Wendy’s father “anymore.”

I hadn’t intended to write the word “anymore” – it just kind of slipped out of my fingers and onto the page. Suddenly, a whole, unspoken history between Wendy’s father and her principal revealed itself to me, and that history might have some pretty profound effects on the main story.

I don’t know about you, but I think that’s darned awesome!

NaNoWriMo: November 11 Update

Words Written Last Night: 1,810
Total Words Written: 14,474
Percent of Final Goal: 28%

Notes: Eek. I’m almost a full 2,500 words BEHIND schedule. That’s not good.

Maybe it’s just because I’ve been reading young adult fiction recently, but I kinda want to explore the new environment I created for Wendy’s school. I created three new characters for her to interact with last night – an insensitive jock, an all-business school nurse, and the school principal (you can guess what kind of day poor Wendy had at school today).

The principal probably has one of my favorite character descriptions I’ve ever written: “he carried with him the potbelly that only the abnormally thin have when they get old, married, and settled.” Sadly, I think the reason I like it so much is because that’s what I expect I’LL look like when I get old, married, and settled.

Speaking of reading (which I was two paragraphs ago), I’m finding it advantageous to read continually WHILE writing. When I read, I tend to adopt the conventions of the writer into my speech (Shakespeare and Dickens make me a bit more flowery than I’d normally be). Since I’ve been reading Jerry Spinelli recently, I’ve found it a bit easier to come up with distinctive, abnormal descriptors for my characters – something Spinelli excels at in books like Maniac Magee and Loser. I’m not nearly as GOOD at it as Spinelli is, but it’s helpful nonetheless.

Braddy Reads The Bell Jar

Okay, I’ve put this one off long enough.

I finished reading Sylvia Plath’s The Bell Jar almost two weeks ago, and I’m STILL not quite sure what I think of it. Heck, I’m not even quite sure why I picked it up in the first place. I mean, I like Sylvia Plath’s poetry (for the most part), but I’m not exactly a Plath “fan.”

As far as the writing goes, I found Plath as ingenious and clever as ever – although she uses FAR too many metaphors for my taste. On some pages, nearly every other sentence carries some simile or metaphor. That’s not an exaggeration. I counted. There’s a LOT of metaphor.

Where the plot’s concerned, well… Actually, I’m not even sure I have the capacity to fully understand the novel. Maybe I’m coming from the wrong place to figure out what’s going on – that place being the land of the Y chromosome.

I was struck by a particular scene towards the end of the book: protagonist Esther Greenwood is nearing the end of her stay in a mental institution. She gets a visit from Buddy Willard, an old flame of hers, who asks if he’s somehow responsible for Esther’s current state of mind. Esther’s response is a bit ambiguous, but she TELLS him that he isn’t responsible.

When I read that section, I remember thinking that I had a similar question to Buddy Willard’s. As I’ve pointed out, I have kind of an odd response to women’s literature. I start to question my own motives in my interactions with women – whether I’ve been perpetrating some patriarchal crimes in my intersex relationships.

However, when Buddy asks if he has caused Esther’s illness, I get the impression that Buddy Willard has kind of missed the point. Esther Greenwood has been through a lot in her life – obvious mental illness, shattered ideologies… heck, she nearly gets raped halfway through the book. The Bell Jar is an exploration of HER trauma and her journey. For Buddy to turn it into some kind of analysis of HIS OWN behavior actually strikes me as kind of selfish. I found myself wondering why Buddy Willard would dare to make Esther’s struggled about HIM – and, at the same time, I wondered why I insisted on making Plath’s story about ME.

Or maybe I’m the one missing the point. I really can’t say for certain. Whether Buddy’s question is Plath’s way of waving off sniveling, apologetic men or condemning them isn’t really clear to me. Under different circumstances, I’d call that a mark of a bad writer. However, Plath handled it in a way that will have me thinking about The Bell Jar for days and weeks to come, not out of confusion, but out of a desire to understand. And that’s REALLY impressive.

NaNoWriMo: November 8 Update

Words Written Last Night: 1,770
Total Words Written: 12,664
Percent of Final Goal: 25%

Notes: You know how long it takes to write 1,666 words? Apparently, not all that long.

I spend about an hour and a half to two hours writing a night, but a good portion of that time is actually me standing up from the computer, walking out into the common room, and telling my roommate that I wrote another hundred words before telling him the latest cool thought I had about math.

Actually, that’s not quite true. He’s the one who tells ME about math.

Still, I find that the writing goes a little easier when I take small breaks in the middle – provided I’ve put in the effort to do some quality writing in the first place. I write a couple hundred words, go read a few comic strips (I’m working my way through the complete Calvin and Hobbes again) or a chapter from my book (currently reading Jerry Spinelli’s Loser), and then come back to the writing with a mostly fresh mind.

Not planning out the plot ahead of time is providing some interesting challenges. Right now, the novel feels more like an extended outline in development than a coherent narrative, but it’s providing me with some interesting choices. I’ve got a scene on the slate now that I had never intended to write – Wendy in her classes at school. Suddenly, there’s a whole new avenue that’s just opened up for new characters, conflicts, and settings.

In revision, I’m going to have to decide between turning the story into a psychological thriller or a regular YA novel. I’m not sure which way it’ll swing in the end.

NaNoWriMo: November 7 Update

Words Written Last Night: 2,491
Total Words Written: 10,894
Percent of Final Goal: 21%

Notes: I almost didn’t do any writing yesterday. I didn’t even start the writing until nearly 10:00 at night, spending most of my evening reading up on the Tarot on Wikipedia. Also, I went bowling (55 is a TERRIBLE bowling score, by the way).

I started writing with very little enthusiasm – I don’t know enough about the Tarot to write convincingly about a Tarot reading, which was the next portion of the story I wanted to write. Everything I know about Tarot cards comes from an old video game my brothers and I played growing up called The Fool’s Errand, which, incidentally, is a LOT of fun for puzzle-lovers.

My enthusiasm grew quickly, however, when I started writing the character Ruby. I had no intention of including anyone like her in my story when I first started writing it. However, I figured SOMEONE had to provide Wendy with a card reading, and I didn’t want Alice to do it (which I think was the original goal). So I created this sassy old woman, contorted with severe scoliosis, and I think I have a new favorite character.

And THAT’S why I like NaNoWriMo.

NaNoWriMo: November 6 Update

Words Written Last Night: 2,096
Total Words Written: 8,403
Percent of Final Goal: 16%

Notes: I skipped a day over the weekend, and that’s actually put me about 1,000 words behind schedule. It’s pretty traumatic. I’ll be able to catch up in time, but… man.

This year’s NaNoWriMo project is so much more DIFFICULT than last year’s. There’s been almost no motivation to continue in the project. Again, just like last year, when I’m able to compel myself to sit down and work, I feel pretty good about the work I do (even though it’s mostly terrible writing). It’s that extra effort to sit down and WORK that I get hung up on.

One of the things that’s made this year’s project more difficult is the presence of a roommate. Last year, I lived on my own, so when I got home from work, I had no distractions at all. I just sat down, got to work, then played video games until it was time for bed. Now, I kinda wanna just chat with the roommate.

No wonder most famous authors have been depressive loners.

Braddy Reads Nursery Rhyme Comics

ATTENTION PARENTS OF SMALL CHILDREN!!! BUY THIS BOOK. BUY THIS BOOK NOW. NOW. NOW. BUY THIS BOOK NOW!

And that's it for my review.

...

What, that's not enough? Okay, I'll go on.

Nursery Rhyme Comics first showed up on my radar when it was announced that one of my favorite comic book artists, Mike Mignola, would be contributing a two-page adaptation of the nursery rhyme "Solomon Grundy." I took a look at the pages and, being something of a Mignola completionist, decided that I had to possess this book.

Now, the Mignola story is good. Very good, I'd say. But it's not even CLOSE to the best thing about this book. Nursery Rhyme Comics tells fifty stories that I've known since I was six, but puts a new spin on all of them.

They don't ALL work, but the ones that do are fantastic. Patrick McDonnell's two-panel retelling of "The Donkey" reminds me why I liked the comic Mutts in the first place, while Richard Thompson (of Cul de Sac) proves why he's one of the best contemporary newspaper cartoonists. Eleanor Davis's simplistic-looking "The Queen of Hearts" proves to be more complex the more you study it, while Stan Sakai's "Hector Protector" is just as simple - and delightful - as it seems.

I'd endorse the book almost solely on the quality of two-page depiction of "Pop Goes the Weasel," which introduced my roommate to the bizarro wonderland works of Scott C. (whose story "Igloo Head and Tree Head in Disguise" sent my roommate into hysterical fits of laughter that nearly knocked him unconscious).

Okay, I'll stop raving now. I obviously enjoyed this book WAY more than I should have, considering I'm about twenty years too old to fit in the target demographic. Still, the art's great, the stories charming and unpredictable, and the rhymes timeless. Love it!