I’ve heard a lot of writers say that when they’re working on a novel, their characters are always with them. Their characters ride around on their shoulders, whispering in their ears until their stories are down on paper. It’s a good reason, they say, to make sure you’re writing characters you won’t mind living with for a few years. Even when you’re not expressly working on the book, they’ll be at the corners of your mind. I’ve often doubted this would be the case with me, I suppose because I imagined this kind of absorption as a constant longing for the pen or the keyboard, an unending flow of ideas. I’d written a “novel” before–a disastrously autobiographical string of words written by the enforcement of quotas and deadlines that is now in a box under my bed where the cat has most likely puked on it–and I never felt that way. I had to force myself to write more words, not because the story needed them, but because I was determined to write a book-length work. My characters were my family members, thinly disguised, and the only one who seemed to follow me around was, predictably, based on me.
Now that I’m a more experienced writer and committed to a novel that is 100% fictional, I understand what those writers mean. Read more »
The main character for The Hunger Games has been cast. Jennifer Lawrence will play Katniss Everdeen in the trilogy, the first film of which is set to be released next year. The speculation over who will play which character has been ongoing for some time now, but now that the casting has officially begun, it’s in full flow. I’ve got some mild opinions myself, but I’m trying to reserve them until I actually see the movie because, hey, I’m not a casting director.
But it’s hard to see a beloved book turn into a movie. Exciting too, of course (though I know some people who disagree with that assessment), but there’s always risk involved. I can no longer remember, for example, how I first pictured Frodo, or Harry Potter, or Lyra Belacqua, or Elizabeth Bennett, or Briony Tallis. Now, when I read those books, I see the actors instead of the portrait the author painted for. Of course, we like to see casting directors that use this vision in the casting, producers and directors that make it come alive once the cameras roll, but I think we all know that this doesn’t always (usually?) happen.
And then there’s the way the plot is shaped, tweaked, to make it fit the different medium. I’m not one of those people that stresses over every detail that is changed—I understand that putting a book on the screen verbatim would make for a boring production—but over time I sometimes find myself unable to remember exactly which things were brought in from the book and which were brought in for the film. (This actually happened earlier tonight, when my sister made a comment about a different piece of work, and I had to remind her that the book actually contradicted her statement exactly.)
I’m excited to see this book on the big screen, I really am. But I’m nervous too. I know, though, that no matter what I’ll see it, and most likely buy it when it comes out. But until then, I’ve got over a year of waiting, and wondering.
Aluminumfoiled Abba
I’m writing from the motherland this week. In preparation for the long flights required to get here, I loaded my netbook with works in progress to work on during my gadget’s long battery life. I then spent the longest plane ride catching up on movies and TV shows through the video on demand system and slept on the shorter legs because I’d watched too much crap instead of calibrating my bio-clock to minimize jetlag. I told myself there would be plenty of downtime at my parents’ house and I would get lots of writing done there. I’m very good at lying to myself.
There has been loads of time during my first week here that could be used for writing, but the same thing that always happens when I visit happened again. Spending my days speaking Swedish means I can’t put English worth a crap on the page. My sentences are all wrong. I reverse the noun-verb order and can’t find a synonym to save my soul. My sentence structure becomes super simple and my work read like a first graders’ “What I did this Summer” essay. Read more »
I’m in the middle of a packing frenzy at the moment—I leave two days after graduation, spend four days driving across the country, then get on a plane for Europe the very next day—so I don’t have any real insights to offer today. Instead, I have a few fun questions. Think of it as holiday fun.
1. What fictional character would you be most excited to meet?
2. What fictional character would you be most terrified to meet?
3. What literary world would you choose to live in?
4. What movie was better than the book?
5. What books are you embarrassed to admit you’ve never read?
6. What books are you embarrassed to admit you have read?
I’d considered doing another post about LOST today, in honor of the series finale, which I just finished watching. I wanted to talk about how, in the end, the show came back to character and how despite the sci-fi elements, I’m inclined to call it literary. But then I made the mistake of going online to see how other fans had reacted, and I saw a lot of hatred—hatred that I saw mainly stemming from (what I consider to be) a lack of understanding, and I decided I wanted some time to digest the show on my own, without having to explain why the first 120 episodes, each individually, meant more than the finale, but why the finale was still absolutely essential to the closure, and the shape of the show. You’re just going to have to trust me on this, or keep watching over and over until you get it.
Instead, I’m going to talk about the Bechdel Test for Women in Movies, which actually kind of relates, because the criticism that most infuriated me tonight was one where a blogger clearly dissected the entire show to fit an idea she wanted to have about it—that it’s a sexist, racist piece of crap with “plot holes the size of {her} Hyundai,” poor writing, bad dialogue, and the list goes on and on. (I guess the millions of fans are just all stupid, but then again, I can think of some stories I would say similar things about, so maybe I’m just being elitist here.)
Anyway, back to this test. I swear I can stay focused. And that this really isn’t a post about Lost. Not entirely anyway.
This test was created a while back to evaluate gender equality in movies. Take a look below the cut here.
Read more »
0 Comments 
I’ve heard a lot of writers say that when they’re working on a novel, their characters are always with them. Their characters ride around on their shoulders, whispering in their ears until their stories are down on paper. It’s a good reason, they say, to make sure you’re writing characters you won’t mind living with for a few years. Even when you’re not expressly working on the book, they’ll be at the corners of your mind. I’ve often doubted this would be the case with me, I suppose because I imagined this kind of absorption as a constant longing for the pen or the keyboard, an unending flow of ideas. I’d written a “novel” before–a disastrously autobiographical string of words written by the enforcement of quotas and deadlines that is now in a box under my bed where the cat has most likely puked on it–and I never felt that way. I had to force myself to write more words, not because the story needed them, but because I was determined to write a book-length work. My characters were my family members, thinly disguised, and the only one who seemed to follow me around was, predictably, based on me.