Rob Hagans and the DSLR Revolution

It ain’t over till it’s over, bitches!

And I’m saying it ain’t over.

True, I’m new to the DSLR game (some would say LATE) and I have less experience than most shooters I know. Not to mention I am writing this with the dual sins of being an early snob AGAINST the DSLR Revolution, and, honestly, having no facts/numbers/insider information to back this article up. It is merely MY OPINION, and you are free to disagree me if you so desire. So here it is.

My thesis is this: The DSLR Revolution IS JUST BEGINNING.

I know, I KNOW, some of you have been trying to pound nails into coffins for the past year. Ever since the Blackmagic Cinema camera came out people have been screaming “FREE AT LAST! FREE AT LAST!” And free from what exactly? Low bit-rate footage? H.264? Aliasing and moire?

Eh, not-so-much.

And a lot of folks have come to the interwebs to take Canon to task over its APC sensor of late. Though I can’t disagree with you on that, I can totally see why the efforts of Blackmagic and Sony and the uprising of 4k has done nothing, really, to move the sleeping giant. Let’s go by the numbers.

First, Blackmagic. The Blackmagic Cinema camera is AWESOME. No doubt about it. 2.5k RAW, out-of-the-box (no hacking required), interchangeable lenses (with a canon and MFT mount),  Prores codec, DiVinchi Resolve (a massive color correction program) included, all for less than 3k, sorry, 2k—I’m as much of a fanboy as I could possibly be…from a distance.

Because, um, you know, I can’t afford it.

"Oh, c’mon!" you say. "Rent!" you say. Nope, still can’t afford it. See the Blackmagic has some problems (that we all know about, and I’ll just briefly outline here) that keep it from being a viable option for low-to-no budget level shooters, such as myself. Such as: 2.5k RAW footage creates 6.8 gigs of footage a minute, or, 410 gigs an hour. 

Yeah. Hope you got a fast computer.

Not to mention that if you shoot RAW you have to first color correct it (or run it through some color correction program) AND THEN spit it from one program to another to edit it in another format. And some of you are saying “Well, so what? It’d be the same if you were shooting RED.” And you’re right, I can’t afford to do that either. But I knew that. Even Red knew that. Their cameras are close to 20 grand to START. They assume you come ready to play. This camera costs less than a Canon 5D. Theoretically, you could cut back on your beer money for a few months and buy/rent one (if you’re working steady. But the problem with these cameras is that they come with HIDDEN FEES. They seem great on paper, but then as soon as you open them up, you got problems: Storage space fees, extra hard drives, camera rig fees.

And let’s discuss that one, shall we?

I have a camera rig. It’s a nice all-purpose rig I bought to the tune of $350. Nice, right? Except that now I can’t use it. Because now I have to buy a rig that supports extra batteries because the Blackmagic’s internal battery only lasts about an hour (maybe less) and cannot be removed from the camera to charge. Um what? What is this, the 1980’s? Its 2013, what kind of fucking option is that on a camera that costs $2k. It’s ridiculous. And I know, I KNOW, some of you are saying, “No, no, no, no, no, there’s a new Sheriff in Town. The Blackmagic Pocket Cinema Camera! It has a removable battery and EVERYTHING!”

Yeah. Let’s talk about that.

I have never been as disappointed by a launch of a camera as I have been the Blackmagic Pocket Cinema Camera. I’ve been shooting video for over 15 years. Started on Hi-8, graduated to mini dv, then HD and I’m now the proud owner of a canon 60D. And so believe me when I tell you that I was very ready for the BMPCC to be the GAME CHANGER we all wanted it to be.

Except that it’s not.

The point of these cameras (and, I may be wrong) was to get professional products into the hands of folks like myself. Folks without a lot of money. Folks who use jobs to pay for equipment for months or even years, before they make any real money from the business. Indie folks who shoot movies on the weekends. Folks who fight, folks who sacrifice. Folks without the cash flow to just run out and shoot on even a Red camera. I mean, am I wrong? Why else would they price this camera at 1k? Perfectly poised to compete with both the 5D & 7D. Especially the 7D where, with a decent starter lens (both cameras are sold without lenses), you can pick them up for virtually the SAME PRICE. There should be no debate over which is the better option. Sure the BMPCC has a smaller lens sensor, and if you’re coming from the Canon family previously, you’re going to invest in new lenses or an adapter ($99). If I had to choose between them, it would take serious consideration when it SHOULDN’T BE. The 7D can’t shoot RAW (and I know, the Pocket Camera can’t either, yet). It doesn’t shoot prores. It doesn’t have CLOSE to the dynamic range of the Pocket Camera and you can’t ask for something more portable.

And yet, the 7D is still a competitor.  Why? Because both the Pocket Cinema Camera and it’s big brother (and big sister the 4k Production Cinema Camera presumably), fail to supply features that are basic camera staples at this point.

My first “big camera” was the prosumer Panasonic DVX-100. Man, I LOVED that camera. We thought we were hot shit with it. Weddings, events, short films, plays—I shot it all with that camera. It paid off at least 6 times what it was worth when most of the time I was shooting either for myself or as a favor to a friend (I was young and really only interested in artistry, not money). I only mention this because I bought that camera in 2004 and both the Pocket Cinema as well as the original Cinema Camera lack features that I got from that $4,000 MiniDV camera almost 10 years ago. Like audio monitoring. A built-in ND filter. Multiple white-balance options, oh the Panasonic was great for that. It also had an on-board stereo mic, but you could turn it off and run sound directly into the camera via XLR cables. And you could keep the audio levels at something you liked. The battery for the Panasonic was removable and the one it came with was okay, but we bought one that was much better and lasted HOURS for  relatively cheap. I may have even gotten it free with a purchase of something else. The Pocket Cinema camera comes with a removable battery but it only lasts about an hour (maybe) in the camera and there’s no option to use a bigger size. And, like I said above, it’s more expensive big brother doesn't offer you that option AT ALL.

Tape was the media of the day with the Panasonic. MiniDV to be exact. But the DVX-100 was very good at letting you know how much tape you had left (it flashed warning signs during the last minute or two). The Blackmagic family uses solid state design, but, to my knowledge, aren’t so good at telling you how much footage you shot, or how much more you can shoot. Nor can you get rid of unwanted clips (like in the Canon’s or any DSLR). In the Panasonic I used to record black with all my tapes, then tape over the black to discourage any issues with capturing. Kind of like formatting your media, which, you know, the Blackmagic’s doesn’t do (neither of them), whether it’s a simple SD card or a solid state hard drive. And tape was easy enough to store and back-up, much like footage from a DSLR. You can back it up on redundant drives and save it for relatively cheap.

But a terabyte of space for one project can be…problematic.

These may seem like nitpicking concerns. They’re not. If you don’t have money, you don’t have money, and THE REASON (to get back to a much earlier point) Canon hasn’t budged on their sensor for the APC is because they know they’re still the best game in town for Low-end-higher-quality video. Bottom line, if you know what you’re shooting and how you’re shooting, you can make miracles happen with a t2i—I’ve seen it—and you can find that camera for about $300 on eBay, leaving you free to buy all manner of inexpensive budget lenses and camera rigs/sliders/equipment (which is where your money should be going). The DSLR speaks to folks who need lower overhead costs, who scrimp and save and must be frugal (especially in a bad economy) with camera expenditures. The guys who’re saying GAME CHANGER are the same guys who have the money/equipment to shoot with BETTER CAMERAS. The game has already been changed. Check out “Like Crazy” or “Upstream Color” or “Frances, Ha”, or the television show “Wilfred”. Even “Breaking Bad” occasionally mixes in a 5D with their camera set-up (the rest is shot on film).

If you want to “change the game”, start with making a $500 camera that, at least, offers you the same options you would get in DSLR in the same class and keeps in mind basic camera functions that have been around for over 10 years.

Until then, it’s just another camera.

A Thousand Words That Changed My Life

I cannot remember a time when I could not call myself a writer.

That’s not hyperbole. I literally cannot do it. I started writing from a very early age—blame comic books—I was an early (avid) reader and it seemed only natural, instinctual, to make up my own stories about Spider-Man and Marty McFly, as well as my own original creations, some of which are with me, at least conceptually, to this day (at  age 30).

As a writer, you are the primary reader of everything you put to page; you are perfectly poised to see your own preoccupations and prejudices, genesis and growth: I remember when I could finally read my stories aloud (and have them sound like real stories). I remember completing my first major short story (17 pages). I remember recognizing a certain maturity in my writing after taking my first journalism course. And last week, I wrote a 1000-word short story (a tale of sex, drugs and love) minus any recognizable profanity.

This most recent accomplishment may seem dubious.

However, as wordsmith, my tonality skews more toward the blue spectrum of vocabulary, despite my aspirations of literary fiction. For example, Lincoln’s Dare, my first novel, is a six-day frisk through collegiate hedonism, culminating in a nine-person orgy. The subject matter may seem to belong within the ranks of purple prose, but I’m of the mindset that if Portnoy’s Complaint can be considered a literary classic while discussing deviant masturbatory habits, then certainly I can write a book about an orgy that need not be categorized as “erotic fiction”.

Not that there’s anything wrong with erotica.

The short story in question, Party Games, came literally, from nowhere. I was at work, mentally hopping from one thought cluster to another in an attempt to shake something loose. These things happen, rock metaphors aside, it’s more like having a giant ring of keys to a magical, sinister, lock that constantly changes its shape. A key that worked yesterday may not work tomorrow and sometimes you slide a random key in, the tumblers align and you step forward into new territory. Party Games was of that particular persuasion. Tumblers in a lock: sex, love, social media and ecstasy—BOOM—it’s story time.

As I reached the end (I was aiming for the 1000-word count and hit it square on the nose), it came to my attention that I hadn't dropped the f-bomb once. This was curious as I had planned to use it in several passages where it never graced the page. I thought it, but didn't write it. As I scanned further, I noticed that the other blue characters of the f-bomb fraternity were also missing in action. Again, not on purpose, they were simply outclassed by much more beautiful, lavish, words. Words, which—I guess—after nearly three years of non-stop prose—climaxing in a begrimed 300 page book—refused to languish within the recesses of my filthy mind any longer.

I had grown.

We’re often unprepared for change. Most of the time it sneaks up on you, knocks you to the ground, and sits, heavily, on your chest until you submit. And sometimes you catch eyes with it across the room, quietly, as you both attend to your own individual businesses, each recognizing the other with a nod and moving on, just the same. I am proud of my growth. I do wonder what it will mean for projects henceforth, but I’m also excited to discover I have transcended limitations I didn’t even know I had.

That I still have so much to learn. 

I am a Crazy Person

The title says it all.

There are different kinds of crazy. There’s “shoot up a school” crazy or “overdose on pills” crazy, or—and this is one of my favorites—“have sex with people because I have no self-worth” crazy. There’s lots of flavors of insanity to choose from. I think everyone has one, no one is spared, and we are a race—a species—of crazy rituals and customs. Burying people (wasting space) instead of cremation, or imposing our personal religious beliefs on others because we believe that we are in the “right”, when if we are in the right, it wouldn't matter in the first place. Speed dating. Playing on your cell phone with the television on IN THE BACKGROUND. We’re all crazy, some of us, yes, crazier than others.  And some people, yes again, are better at hiding it.

I will hide no longer. I expose you to my crazy. I hope you enjoy it—or, at least, feel better about your own brand of voodoo.

It’s 5 am and I can’t stop myself. Two hours ago my fingers were flying across the keys, now, a peck here a peck there, my fingers lethargic and I’m starting to see my text underlined in red every other word. I’m tired. I know I should go to bed, but I keep pecking, keep pushing, keep yawning, and keep taking internet porn breaks to keep from getting up from this chair. Getting up is admitting defeat. Getting up is the end. Getting up means I don’t love what I’m doing—and I do love what I’m doing, don’t I?

As of right now, not-so-much.

I told myself (and anyone who would listen) that this would be the year that I would write the best screenplay of my 15 year career. And I meant it. I did. But more and more I feel like that was hilarious bravado of embarrassing proportions. The best? What does that even mean anyway? Will I never write anything as good ever again? And what’s more, the hyperbole is freaking me out. Is it the best? It certainly doesn't feel like that. When it’s working it’s working, when it isn't—when it’s cliché—and I’m hating it—HATING IT—UGH! Why are you writing like this? You’re better than that

Aren't you?
Aren't you…

This isn't just one night. This is NIGHTS, months and months going from hating myself to raging egomania—sometimes in a matter of minutes. Reading inspirational quotes from other, much more successful writers—as if I have anything in common with them—and often discouraging rather than encouraging. My most successful tool in inspiring myself is to consume the words of others: last year when I wrote my book, I read almost 20 books over the course of 4 & 1/2 months, which may not sound impressive until you consider that I was also working at least 40 hours a week, with three kids (with constant soccer practice), and a marriage to the most loving, understanding woman I've ever known.

300 pages later, we were celebrating with our first night out to the movies in almost 6 months. But during our drive over I saw something that made a story click—I swear, you can almost hear it, like tumblers in a lock—and by the time we were standing in line waiting to see James Bond I was faraway, wrapped up in the tumultuous lives of imaginary people. . My wife smiled—that sad smile that always reminds me of who I am—and says,

“ I've lost you again, haven’t I?”

And the Award Goes to…

I’m back, bitches!

Did you miss me? Of course you didn't. No one reads this blog. You didn't even know I was gone. Hell, I barely knew I was gone myself (if that makes any sense). I've been—I was—noveling pretty hard and it got to be just a huge pain to be updating or trying to keep to an updating schedule when I was so rigidly trying to maintain some sort of writing schedule with the book. Having never finishing a book before, I was so worried that I would simply quit (for reasons that have been explained in a previous blog, slackers) and ANY distractions were just apt to be cut from my life to facilitate the mountain that had never been climbed: Novelmaking. Mount Booking.

(Mount Booking? Whatever.)

Anywho, nearly 6 months and almost 1000 pages later (all told with notes and drafts, even though the book is only 294 pages), the book is finished, and I’m taking a brief break (read: writing other things) and I decided to break off a little bit of blogging after I was hit with an idea the other day. Observe:

It’s December. That time of the year for yuletide hoopla AND (and) various BEST OF lists: best in books, best in music, and, of course, best in film. I’m no stranger to these things. I can admit to even sharing a list or two of my own with friends or perusing websites/blogs for celebrity picks (like you do) because, you know, ‘cause. That’s what happens. Film geeks, looking for recommendations from our Mental Mentors on some of the films we may have missed despite our constant vigilance or ones we were too afraid to try. It’s a thing. I’m sure you've done it…no? Well, fuck you too.

I’m kidding.

Anyway, I was thinking of how, if I had a BEST OF from this year, I don’t even think I could put together a top 5, let alone top 10. It wasn't a good year, cinematically, for me. Say what you will, but baring, say, Chronicle, Avengers, and, of course, Your Sister’s Sister (the review of which can be found as a previous blog), there were very few films that blew me away (compared to in years past) and most of them were just downright disappointing (I’m looking at you TDKR). So, instead, I started to think about how there have been other films in my life that I judge by a completely different standard. Films which, after watching them, just made me want to break out pen and pad and begin sketching my own film right out of the theater (sometimes on the way to the bathroom--awkward).

I started thinking about Back to the Future.

I've said it before and I’ll post it here it again (for the cheap seats): for, I would be confident in postulating, a good percentage of children born in the early to mid-80’s, Back to the Future kind of raised you. It was your Cinematic Dad (with Princess Bride as your mom). The 80’s were full of awesome movies (way too many to even BEGIN listing here) but if there is a film that serves as a Time Capsule for that decade, BTTF is it. It was always on TV. There was massive hype behind it and the time traveling Delorean from the film (to this day, if I don’t have any place to go, I will follow anyone driving a Delorean just to see one MOVE) that lasts to this day. I was smitten with the movie as a young’n. I wanted to be Marty McFly. I played BTTF on long bus trips (I didn't have lots of friends as a kid), I wore out at least one VHS tape of the first movie and two tapes on the sequel. I wanted (and still do) a Hoverboard, even if I had to ride one in pink and begged my mother to indulge me in buying the various bullshit fakes that they used to advertise in the back of Boys Life Magazine. But more than that, watching BTTF, I can remember one of my earliest ambitions come to me during the credits:

“Man, I want to make movies like THAT.”

This feeling would come to me many times after that in my life, but watching that movie gave me my first, and very special glimpse into the human being I would eventually mutate into. As the years wore on, other films would come to give me that same feeling. In 1990 (after BTTF, part 2) it was Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. In ’91 it was Bill and Ted’s Bogus Journey. In ’93 and impressionable 10-year-old with an Afro wanted to make movies after being shocked and amazed by high leaping raptors in Jurassic Park. In ’94 Brandon Lee jumping across rooftops to Nine Inch Nails in The Crow would burn an idea into my brain that stayed with me through most of Middle School (that I wasn't able to fully realize until this year with The Danica Project). It wasn't  an every year thing, the next wouldn't come until 1996 with From Dusk Till Dawn (my first exposure to Rodriguez—I became obsessed). And then, in 1997, The Fifth Element changed the very idea of what movies could be for me (I’m sorry, but that movie is technically flawless). Then it happened again in ’98 with Dark City.

1999 is a banner year marks three distinct additions to the list: The Matrix (nuff said) and Fight Club, which, to be fair, I wouldn't see, in its entirety, until 2002, but it also marks the appearance of the first movie on this list that I didn't see in a theater. Dogma, the third film from 99, was my first exposure to that guy who had made Mallrats (which my friends had seen, but I had not). It comes as no surprise that this is also the year I (consciously) decided to be a film maker. I had taught myself screenwriting and had suffered my first film making defeat when Vanilla Sky came along in 2001 and saved me. I started teaching myself film making but a re-dedication to my writing wouldn't come till 2004 when my obsession with Charlie Kaufman would spring up after seeing Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.

2005 is a banner year in film making that no one talks about. For me it was not only the year I met my wife, but it was also the year that Sin City was released, the last of four films (all produced around the same time, so no one really knows who was “first”) that were made “completely digital” to be released in theaters, April 1^st, 2005. Micha and I saw it on our first date, and between apologizing for grazing her boob “accidentally” while going for popcorn, I theorized that this film, along with the others of its ilk, would change the world. Others agreed--which is why, I believe, all were snubbed for special effects Oscars but, nevertheless, the re-democratizing of the film industry had begun. It continued for me with Conversations with Other Women which was released in 2005 as well, but I wouldn't see it till 2007 when it was released on DVD.

Possibly the biggest film on this list, The Dark Knight, inspired pretty much everyone. And ruled 2008.

2009 was a year of maybes. There’s certainly The Hangover and Star Trek and Watchmen and Crank 2. But it was also the year I thought my film career was imploding after the biggest project I had ever attempted suddenly went belly up. I put my nose to the grindstone, however, and in 2010 an argument could be made that the film most worthy of making this list would be my own: She’s in the Details, however, it wasn't. I didn't see many films that year (penalties of making a feature film myself) but I did see one film a total of three times theatrically.

That film was Scott Pilgrim vs The World. This film, much like Fifth Element in ’97, re-energized what films could mean for me. Which is what every film on this list has done in one way or another and what the movies in 2009 failed to do (although Star Trek came dangerously close). I didn't just watch this film. I ABSORBED it. In a year where I was making a movie of my own and an Ultimate Geek Trifecta had brought together Aaron Sorkin, David Fincher and Trent Reznor for The Social Network, this was the one film I couldn't get enough of from behind the scenes info to the various podcasts done in promotion, I was all about Scott Pilgrim: the juxtaposition of mediums, the portrayal of the life of young 20-somethings (a theme of my own), the spot-on (flawless) editing and kick ass soundtrack. It was in a class of its own. And it tanked. Much like my own film.

It only made me love it more.

In 2011 Fincher became the second director with two films on this list (the first is Alex Proyas with The Crow and Dark City). The American remake of The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo does something most don’t: out performs both the source material and original (Swedish) film.

Which brings us to this year, which, as I have already explained in this sprawling narrative, has been very disappointing (to me, anyway), cinematically. Sure, you have the GIANT AWESOMENESS that is Joss Whedon’s Avengers. And, while that is my “favorite” film of the year, it did not fill me with the desire to go out and put a camera on some actors and say “Go!” But there is a film that I believe stands in the class of all the others that grace this list with their cinematic genius that deserves recognition (and was, in fact, the spark that lit this raging blog inferno).

That film is Joseph Kahn’s Detention. In my own words: “Detention is like if Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure had an unplanned movie baby with Scream that they gave up for adoption. It became a product of the system was bounced around from one cinematic foster home to another and the only friend it had growing up was Back to the Future” (the rest of my review can be found here). Not only does this movie represent the best experience I had in a theater (or GETTING to a theater), but it’s also most unique narrative voice I saw in a year that produced Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter. It deserves your time, catch it on Blu or DVD.

So there you have it. The point of this mess: Detention - this year’s winner of the Rob Hagans BACK TO THE FUTURE award. Were there better films? Sure, but this one has earned a place on the shelf in both my heart and in my brain with an exclusive few that always remind me of why I do what do.

Of what I've always wanted to do.

Die Hard: With a Word Processor

Today has been a pile of poop. I could dwell, but I choose not to.

Focus on the positives. Focus on the goal.

Focus...

Yesterday was pretty awesome.

I've been writing at work. Though I haven't been able to meet my quota after, putting pages to the hard drive, I have been quite good at squeezing out a paragraph here, a sentence there during breaks or lulls at work. Being unable to use my cell phone, it's really the only thing that I'm allowed to do to keep from falling asleep at 4 in the morning. The problem with this, however, is that I didn't want to do that with either the book (or the script). I'm working on an all-electronic (or mostly) capture writing process this time around. In the past, I've preferred to write things in a notebook before transferring them to the computer. The benefits for this are two-fold. First, is a  mandatory proof reading session with what I've already written. The second is that because what ends up on my hard drive is often so different from what was on the page that it, to me at least, counts as a third draft. From what was in my head, revised onto the page, revised as it goes into the computer, by the time I revise the electronic file I have written something (technically) four times and I am thoroughly sick of it.

It is for this reason, keeping the living manuscript fresh between drafts, that I have decided to forgo my usual habits this time around. Also, one of my usual procrastination tactics, postponing the writing because I have so much to transpose to the computer, is also responsible for more sloth, and, in the end, bouts of writer's bloc, then I care to admit to.

On the flip side of that coin, I have to write when I feel inspired, even at work, and since I can't type or text it out, pen and paper will have to do. For now.

So, old habits creeping in, procrastinating because I had so many pages to transpose, I simply took the reigns yesterday and dug in. It was a good writing session and things felt fresh because, at least in these pages, I had more than a few fine details that I had left to later because I didn't have the internet at my fingertips to research while I was writing. Maybe I should do more: get the skeleton of the story when working on pen and paper and then fill in the details while transposing. This is the best of both worlds. I still get my extra draft and proof-reading session while managing to make the draft feel fresh and, more importantly, complete, without the dreaded hatred of even the idea of going back and rewriting.


On a related topic, the details I cultivated yesterday revealed so much about these characters-another boon. Having written over 100 combined pages (from notes to outline to book) about these people it's really nice to discover things about your characters that you don't know about them. And in writing, it's really all about the details, otherwise what you (probably) have are cardboard cut outs of real people. Details are also good to keep me wired into what's actually happening in the story at that moment. That may sound pretty obvious, but personally, I'm always thinking of what's ahead. I get so excited about what's to come that I often get discouraged that I'm ever going to get there, get bored, and, finally, quit. In screenplays I have circumvented this particular character flaw by cheating: writing scenes out of order, outlining when I should just write the scenes, then writing the "fun stuff" based off the outline (She's in the Details, anyone?). Writing a book feels more organic, maybe others with more experience can use similar tricks, but I cannot cheat this time.

I must stay grounded. Focus.

Even this blog entry was sort of a cheat. I used it to avoid doing my quota pages (cause honestly, I didn't have it in me) because I felt crappy on a crappy day and wanted to focus my energy elsewhere while simultaneously feeling accomplished. *Sigh*

Day off tomorrow. I am aware that it is also the berfday of the Estados Unidos, but I will get my pages done, regardless.

And finish Season 4 of Breaking Bad.

And find a new book to read.

And...

(Truth in a Hat)

(Day 14 of 73)

Night Moves (or Most of This Post is Not Going to Make Narrative Sense)

The relationship I have with this blog is so weird. The feedback on it has been virtually non-existent, which, I'll be honest, I expected (as I expect to be the biggest fan of EVERYTHING I ever do), yet, I felt so guilty when I missed my posting date on Tuesday. As if someone cares. As if folks are waiting, bated breath, to know just what the hell I'm going to say.

Let's not lose perspective here, sir. This blog is for you. Yes, this blog is public, however, while a conscious choice by me (for 98% pure vanity's sake, I admit), that is almost incidental. As a writer I've always needed a place, a thought dumpster, just for creative catharsis. I have so many voices in my head, all the time, and I enjoy them, but I also have one of my own-and when that voice gets so loud, just...fucking screaming, I have to put it in a place, capture it, just so that voice will quiet the fuck down so I can hear everyone else again. I have a feeling that often, when I don't do this, when I let things sit, it lends itself to periods of writers bloc, just because I have too many problems of my own to deal with imaginary ones.

Because, if I'm honest, truly honest, I'm not really a writer at all. I am an undiagnosed, functional, schizophrenic with an occupational obsession and an inappropriate, morbid level of curiosity. About everything.

Yes, no.

Right.

I just wanted to put that out there.

Anywho, the reason I missed my blog date on Tuesday is because I have switched to Ye Olde Night Shift, 7pm -7am, which is fine, I'm nocturnally oriented anyway, but it's always been creatively motivated. I may be up at 4 am (feeling guilty about leaving my wife alone in the bed), but it's always been because of The Fight, y'know, Me vs Page, round whatever, let's go! And, like I said, I'm used to it, but what I'm not familiar with is that now I'm forced to...find room for my creative endeavors. A daylight schedule, especially around the traditional daylight hours of others has been really difficult to manufacture this week. I've been trying to find enough time to...exist, and I'm sure I'll get the hang of it, but, there's also the fact that the nighttime hours, to me at least, seemed like the bigger half of the day. So much time to get shit done during the hours when the normies sleep.

Or maybe it's just easier to operating 20 hours a day from the other side of the sun.

Probably. Maybe that.

I have, however, been keeping up with the book. Created a new character, Eve, after a friend brought up a very important point about female-to-male ratio at an orgy. She also brought up a point I hadn't, let's say, fully considered, that, women are always in charge of whether sex happens or not (unless, you know, rape). So, in this case, it couldn't just be Anise manipulating the orgy from behind-the-scenes, Lizzie has to be involved, which, lead to me discovering some sort of back-alley alliance between the two that stemmed from something that happened, off screen, the previous year.

I smell a flashback.

Creating Eve also opened a few doors, and, oddly, forced me to consider the time frame in which the book takes place. It seems very strange that, 30-odd pages in, I hadn't really considered such a thing, but, hey, that's me. She, Eve, began to move the story forward, as in, toward the endgame, which forced me to think of it in more than just the broad stroke of: And Then There's an Orgy (Great title by the way).

So, you know...that's good.


I also haven't watched much of anything this week. I know I'm only following an abbreviated 1-2-7-14 formula, but it's another one of those things in my life that I miss when it's gone, like, ice cream or sex, I certainly don't need movies to live, but I prefer a steady diet of them to keep me sated. I did, however, catch the pilot to The Newsroom, Aaron Sorkin's new show on HBO, and, I'm sorry to say, some of the vitriol from folks hating on it. Most of it, thought I admit, I'm a die-hard Sorkin groupie, is unfounded. If you don't like his style, then really, what's the point in posting a review? So you can highlight just what it is that you don't like? Sure, or you could reorganize your sock drawer or take up saxophone lessons? Something productive, maybe.


Then there's the worst of the haters, these people who accuse Sorkin of "speechifying" or preaching through his characters, saying, A.) People don't talk like that and B.) How dare he? To which I disagree I disagree with on 3 points:


First, yes people do talk like that. The other night I listened to a co-worker go on for about 10 minutes, uninterrupted, about a touching story where he described the death of a loved one. It was something where I could tell he had to get through it, his way, and it would have been fucking rude of me to bombard him with questions or interject through it. Sorkin's dialog is a lot like that. Someone goes off like they tend to do, it's usually for a heartfelt or personal reason and should other characters start spouting off through it, it would feel disrespectful. The only time I have a problem with it is if it's BORING. Which brings me to my second point:


THIS IS A GODDAMN TV SHOW! People don't talk like that? Of course they don't, idiot! It's for our benefit! We are coming, cold, into the lives of a lot of different people and it simply wouldn't make sense for them to carry on as if we know what the fuck is going on! Are you unaware of the the typical conventions of watching a television show? Do you actually think that David Boreanaz is a vampire detective or perhaps an FBI agent? They do not speak as we do because they aren't, you know, real people. Their words come from something called a screenwriter, someone WHO IS a real person, one with thoughts and opinions, which brings me to my third point:


Are you not allowed, as a writer, to have a opinion and express it through your art? I sorta thought that was the point? Otherwise I'm doing it all wrong. What about those kids who keep writing about Obama's supposed aims for the country. Am I to believe these are factual texts? Am I to believe that the writers of Breaking Bad are all former meth dealers making a documentary?


Whatever, man. I'm not saying it was a perfect pilot either: the music is borderline (and sometimes over the line) saccharine and has inappropriate timing. But it's an enjoyable hour of television and that's pretty much its goddamn job. End rant.


For that matter, end entry. I'll get out of here before I try to squeeze my review of the new Linkin Park album into this entry.

"And Then There's an Orgy!" (formerly "Truth in a Hat")

By Gene Rol, coming 2013

(Truth in a Hat)

(Day 9 of 73)

Tonal Carnage

Got my quota today. AND, I'm keeping the schedule to this blog.

I, officially, am a boss.

It feels good. And I'm gonna keep chasing this feeling and being productive because Daddy's got plans, kids. Big plans. And shit don't get done by itself.

You gotta do shit.

Anyway, inane rambling aside, I've been having some problems with the book. Because of the outline, I've been good at feeling out the characters and I'm more than versed in their various back stories (despite the lack of time we've spent together, in comparison to characters I've created before). Most of the dialogue has been fun, but I think I've always taken pride in my dialog. The problem lies in the tone.

It was the same problem I had with the movie. Solving that here will help with the movie as well.

This is a very sexual premise. With a very taboo topic, I'm learning. Being a part of an orgy, turns out, is cause for shame. Cause for raising emotional shields when confronted on the details. I thought this was simple fantasy fodder like ye old "men in uniform", "went home with a stripper" or, my personal favorite, the "menage a trois". Being part of an orgy just seemed like another soldier in that army. It very well may be...but it's the one no one wants to talk about.

There's sex in books. There's famous like, Portnoy's Complaint, On the Road, and Last Exit to Brooklyn (which I'm currently reading) or today's hardcover bestsellers: The Sookie Stackhouse (or Anita Blake) series, anything ever by Anne Rice or Bret Easton Ellis. The first real "sex scene" I remember reading was in David Morrell's The 5th Profession where the main character, an elite body guard, ends up having sex (and falling in love) with his principal-the woman he's protecting. The tension building up to it was great, over 2/3 of the book, but the actual scene was cheesy. Starting off with something like,

"He slid back the wall, her eyes were open. She smiled. His soul ached. He lifted his quilt-"

You get the picture.

This book (nor the movie) is not about sex. It is not about a type of sex. It is not about an orgy. It is not 50 Shades of Grey. That being said, it is sexual. It does feature people having sex. It does feature sexual people. It is written by me. So what's the tone?

Where's the fucking line? Pun intended.

I'm still not sure. It came up in today's pages...thought about posting an excerpt, but I guess you guys aren't ready for that yet.

But your kids are gonna love it. [Catch the reference]

I guess I'll keep plugging along. Muddling my way through. Listening to the Rolling Stones (their sexual undertones and reverence of making 'The Devils Music' oddly fits). No way to get into a real discourse about it so the best thing to do is keep going and discover it for myself. Already I'm feeling a little better.

Alright, you kids get out of here. I'm off to watch "Little Miss Sunshine". Again.

(Truth in a Hat)

(Day 2 of 73)