Monday, October 10, 2011

What is the last place you recognise?

"Good books, like our true selves, aren’t instantly created or perfectly crafted. They are messy and frustrating and flawed, which are exactly the same things that make them real." ~ Sarah Dessen

Trust Sarah to tell it in the truest way possible. I've gushed over her latest book WHAT HAPPENED TO GOODBYE before, marvelling at how she always manages to keep her characters original and real, even for ten books and counting. But what I didn't know was that she had had to rip out the last 200 pages of her first draft for WHAT HAPPENED TO GOODBYE and re-write from there. Her solution to writer's block is to go back to the last place where the writing was going well. Kind of like when you get lost on the highway and you go back to the last place you recognise. Because often, it's at that point where you took a wrong turn - added or introduced the wrong character, removed the wrong character, made them do or say the 'wrong' thing - that things start to go downhill. So retracing your steps from the last place things were going right, and take it from there again, is how Sarah circumnavigates the messy journey of a first draft.

That got me thinking. Where is the last place in my life I felt like I had taken the wrong turn? And I found that I couldn't think of one. Probably because my life is only just beginning, so to speak. But I realised I'm actually glad about how things have turned out.

Sure, you can say that's because you don't know what you're missing out on. You think this is the best because you haven't experienced better. I know that. It would be completely ignorant and naive of me to think that what I have now is the best I can possibly have, because, really, how do you define 'best' anyway?

I could just as easily feel that having a mother would be better. Or having a wider social network. Or travelling more. Those can maybe make my life better than what I have now, but only because I don't know what my life would be like with them. What I do know is that I have my dad, my mind and body. And these are all I really need. These are what have taken me this far.

But "something to love, something to do, and something to look forward to", as the quote goes, is what's need for a happy, fulfilled life. What's lacking these days is the last ingredient. Now, I'm not about to go into another bitching session about how I don't know what I can do with my life and how I'll probably be miserable in a job that doesn't involve the type of writing I love. Today is just not the day for self-pity and self-indulgence. Today, I need to work on the final pages of my play, study for a quiz this Thursday, prepare for a presentation this Friday and get started on a group paper.

It's strange. Just yesterday and the day before, I was feeling really down. Must have been low on serotonin, or something. But at least now I know, if I ever feel like my pages are getting messy and frustrating and lacking, I just need to go back to the last place I recognise, the last place everything was going well, and take it from there again.

Friday, October 07, 2011

Supernatural Season 5 kicks butt!

I know I am way late with this review, seeing as how SUPERNATURAL is already in its seventh (seventh!) season and I've only just finished watching Season 5. I like to think I'm pacing myself so I don't finish watching everything so soon. Because that's how amazing SUPERNATURAL is.
I thought I'd take a break from the show for a while, after I was done writing THE DREAMCATCHERS. Because fantasy was all I read and watched while writing it. So once I was done, I was craving stories that were more grounded in reality. Which was why I turned to Asian dramas and Sarah Dessen (yes, I'm rereading WHAT HAPPENED TO GOODBYE, one of the favourites so far). But a few days ago, I decided to return to it, and just watching half of one episode reminded me why I love that show so damn much. I must have said this before, but I'll say it again. Those writers - especially Eric Kripke - are complete geniuses. I think the best stories are those you wish you'd written yourself. And SUPERNATURAL is definitely one that I wish I was creative and original and smart (and neurotic) enough to write myself. Just the storyline itself is enough to blow your mind. And don't even get me started on the characters. I believe they're what make the story.
I think SUPERNATURAL is more character-driven than plot-driven, despite its reliance on, well, supernatural phenomenon. The relationship between the two brothers, Sam and Dean, is what most viewers (and die-hard fans) are really invested in. So even though it's a fantastical narrative, the story is grounded in our most basic instinct: love. My playwriting instructor said that all fantasy stories, no matter how fantastical, have a universal theme (or two) that readers or viewers can all relate to. In the case of SUPERNATURAL, it's family. Sam and Dean are all they've got, ever since their parents were killed by demons.
I heard a lot of the fans were disgruntled by how Season 5 ended. But I didn't feel a smidgen of disappointment. Because for me, SUPERNATURAL was never about the demons and the Apocalypse; it was about the brothers. And Swan Song (the season finale) delivered that beautifully. It tied up enough loose ends and left enough for viewers to want to hold on tight for Season 6. The ending, especially, left me in tears, because (and for those of you who haven't watched it yet, this is a spoiler - although I must be the only one who's watching at this rate) Sam basically sacrificed himself to cage Lucifer and now Dean is left all alone without his little brother. He made a promise to Sam that he wouldn't try to bring him back and that he'd go back to Lisa and start afresh with her and embark on a new, normal life. It's absolutely heartbreaking.
I've watched a fair number of American dramas. But while the rest are all about oh, my best friend slept with my guy, my guy cheated on me and then proceeded to sleep with everyone else in the show, I'm in love with a bad boy (I'm looking at you, GOSSIP GIRL), I have a deep dark secret and I'm in love with you and you're stupid enough to want to be with me, my mom is sleeping with my friend's dad, I'm so bored I'm going to seduce that young hot gardener, yadda yadda yadda, SUPERNATURAL has an actual storyline that isn't filled just to satisfy the ratings. A lot of the shows should've ended with Season 1, but because the ratings were good, they proceeded with Season 2, 3, 4, 5.... Until the show becomes done to death and meaningless. I doubt the writers for SUPERNATURAL will let the show go down that road. It's been 5 seasons, and they're still delivering while being completely true to the show.
So while I'm aware that the writers (and cast - every one of them brings their characters to life and I can't imagine anyone else playing them) of the show won't be able to see this, here's a big thank you from a fan. Thank you for creating such a magnificent, inspiring, original, witty, poignant, first-class show. Even though the show has to end some day, I know you won't let your fans down; every episode will be relevant, amazing and true to the original essence of the story.
I shall stop gushing now. On to Season 6!

Monday, October 03, 2011

monday update

So I'm holed up in the school library ... not studying, as I probably should be. I'm at a very secluded area of the library where people here mostly just sleep in the comfy seats provided along the wall. I'm blog-surfing, which is, you know, also considered as a form of research, since discourse is everywhere and as a linguistics major, I should be competent enough to consider the intent of discourse and the discrepancies between the idealised and actual projected image. And so on.

Except that I'm really not.

I'm trying to think of a way to come up with my usual 8 pages of dialogue for my play, due Wednesday, when we have our reading during class. That, and sourcing for new dramas to watch. Because humans are story-telling/story-loving creatures, right? We feel the need to chronicle our lives through vicariously living through the characters on-screen and on the page. Stories help us make sense of the chaotic in our stretch of time in this world, and it helps that they have a proper (hopefully happy) ending, something that's impossible to define in real life.

So, whatever it takes to keep reality at arm's length, because man, its bite is painful.

Just yesterday, my dad was telling me I should start considering my options. As in, career options. After graduation. I was in the midst of cranking out some dialogue for my play, when he popped in for a chat. The Classifieds section of the day's papers was strewn on the floor (you can tell how high on my priority list that is at the moment), and he asked me what I was considering doing after graduation. He said the worst was when it's time for me to become gainfully employed and I still don't know what I want to (and can) do and then I embark on this mad rush to apply for jobs and settle for any old crap position, in which I'd be miserable and contemplating to find another job. That's sound advice, I know, but it just put me in a lousy mood afterwards, so much so that I didn't even feel like writing anymore. It felt like reality had punched me in the gut. Because, sure, I'm enjoying what I'm doing now, writing plays for class, and writing essays and catching up on readings, but what happens after? It's all good to focus on the present, because you don't know what's going to happen next and all that. But what if the future is (not so) slowly but surely looming and the problem is precisely that you don't know what's going to happen? The uncertainty is enough to gore you to the ground, deflated and weary enough to not want to lift up your head.

Any job that requires narrative writing, I'm your girl. Anything that requires creative writing, sign me up. On the spot. Because those are the things I'd do even if I wasn't paid to do them. But the list seems to end there. Teaching? No, thank you. White-collared jobs? I've expressed my disillusionment with them before. Entrepreneur? I'm too illogical, irrational and impractical for it. Not to mention naive and uninterested.

This is turning out to be another post where I lament about my lack of career options (well, okay, not quite a lack of, because really it's just me being picky and unmotivated). So I'm going to stop here and move on to happier things.

My 21st celebration was a blast, and this is a little overdue (since my birthday's on 25 Sept), but a big thank you to all of you who came and made that day special! I wasn't too keen on making a big fuss over a birthday, but my dad said it was a milestone in my life and that I had to celebrate it well because you only get to be 21 once. Which sounds depressing, but I shan't dwell on the downside. 21 feels entirely too old - 18, I feel, is the best age, even though we had to contend with the crazy A'levels.

(On a sidenote, it seems my dad is always trying to make me get a life. Apart from organising my party, he also encourages me to go out more or join more clubs and societies or pick up a sport or class to meet more people. I don't know what to make of it. Sometimes, it's really nice to have company - the bigger the company, the better - but sometimes, you just really want to be alone.)

Speaking of my play, I realised I haven't quite told you much about it (although whom I'm addressing is unclear - maybe it's better to treat my blog as a person, so I won't feel like I'm talking to some imaginary audience). It's about this girl Becky who is so obsessed with a pop star that she spends her days camping out on his fansites and Twitter profile. She hears a host of three people in her head: Prince II, an impression of the pop star who is supposed to love Becky unconditionally; Aunty Kim, her neighbour who passed away two years ago and had been a mother figure in her life ever since her mother left her; and Mr Hawk, her creative writing teacher who saw the potential in her writing. When her mother reappears in her life, the voices in Becky's head grow increasingly louder, so much so that they start crowding up her mind and interfering with her daily life. She talks to them in public, often in agitation, and her atypical behaviour is noticed by her childhood friend and neighbour (also Aunty Kim's son), Lucas, who has always been protective of her and now tries to help her exorcise the voices in her head one by one. To do so, they have to revisit the day Aunty Kim died, and understand Becky's infatuation with Prince.

Some parts sound a bit autobiographical, if you know me, but sadly there is no Lucas in my life. (I can hear Gerlynn sniggering right now.) Still, fiction's the best form of escape.

Till the next post!

Something to keep you going ... because we all need it from time to time

From Lisa Shroeder's blog:

Monday Motivation - the first draft is YOUR story


"Writing is rewriting... If you fall in love with the vision you want of your work and not your words, the rewriting will become easier." - Nora DeLoach

I love that quote. The first draft is about getting the story down that you want to tell. The words might not be the right ones. The scenes might not be the right ones. The characters may be flat and dull. But it's okay. Write because you have a story to tell and fall in love with that story. Later, you will revise to take care of all those things.

Just get the story down - and let yourself fall in love with it.

I've been writing 1,000 words a day on my WIP. Sometimes I go back and tinker with earlier chapters, and I know some writers don't let themselves do that because they'll do that forever. But for ME, that tinkering often helps me get back into the story - back into the world that can be hard to reenter at times.

That's the thing about first drafts. We have to figure out what works for each of us. I've learned what works for me. I now know I can do 1,000 words a day pretty easily in an hour or two, if I open the document, read some of the previous day's work, tinker if necessary, and start writing.

I also know that the reentry is easiest if I leave off in the middle of a scene, in a place where I can pick right up and keep going. Sometimes I leave myself notes to remind myself what I want to happen. But I now know it's so much easier to get writing when I've left off in the middle of something rather than the beginning of a new chapter. Blank pages are HARD, so I try to avoid them as much as possible when writing a first draft.

Figure out what works for you. Write to get the story down. Remember, it's YOUR story in the first draft. Don't worry about anyone else. Write for yourself. Fall in love with it.

There's plenty of time later to do the work to make other people fall in love with it.